Sometimes the only way to learn a lesson is to learn it the hard way. Like the time I was 15 and had a summer job working at the neighborhood tennis club. It was a pretty good job, much better than flipping burgers or mowing lawns in 100° weather, but I had a tough boss; Ray, the club pro. When he said to do something, you better do it, or learn your lesson the hard way. One of the biggest lessons I learned was to always lock the tennis ball mower up when closing up the place.
The complex had six courts and the lobby was being renovated at the time. The workers doing the renovation would come in and do their work after hours. Since their work only affected the lobby, nothing they did disrupted anyone or prevented them from using any of the courts. Everything pretty much went on business as usual, and except for some sheets of plastic taped over the walls and a couple of areas that were roped off, nothing was different.
When I closed up shop on a Friday, I was going to go out with friends for the evening as most teenagers do. In my haste to get ready for the evening, I not only did not lock up the ball machine, I left the keys to the storage room on the counter. It was on the back of my mind, but I was not worried too much, since I had locked the main door to the club from the inside and all I had to do was pull it shut. Ray had his own keys, so I figured he would be able to get in.
Anyone who knows construction workers knows that they like to drink from time to time. Ray didn’t have a problem with these guys doing it as long as it didn’t get out of hand. One of the workers that night decided to test those limits. He had a few too many and developed an ornery streak. When he saw that the tennis ball mower and over 2,000 practice balls were not locked up, he decided to have a little fun.
At 6:30 the next morning I was roused out of bed by my father. He was upset and told me I had a phone call. After I said hello, the voice on the line said in the manner not unlike a drill sergeant, “GET OVER HERE AND CLEAN UP THIS MESS! THERE’S TENNIS BALLS ALL OVER THE PLACE AND WE’RE OPENING UP AT NINE!” I was in deep trouble and if I wanted to have spending money and not get grounded for a month, I had better get to the club ASAP.
It was seven when I arrived. There were tennis balls scattered all over the courts. The tennis ball mower was locked up and the keys that I left on the counter had been locked inside the storage room. Ray had his own keys and could have opened the storage room to let me use the mower to pick up all the loose balls. The whole ordeal would have been over in less than a half-hour, but he wanted to teach me a lesson.
“Here’s a bucket,” he said handing me a plastic paint bucket like the ones you find at Home Depot. “The only reason I’m letting you use it is that I have to open up at nine. You are going to pick up all these loose balls and put them in the bucket. Every time you fill the bucket, you’ll dump the balls into the carts. If I catch you using the mower or taking the carts out of this room, you’re fired.” He then opened the storage room so I would have access to the carts.
“I don’t care how many times you have to go back and forth. I want this place cleaned up by 8:45. Get moving!”
The work was a lot like the ‘educational sprints’, ‘suicides’ or ‘rat races’ that coaches would have you do. Luckily I was in pretty good shape at age 15 and was able to get the job done in time, because if I had to do it now at my age, I’d die. Two things never happened after that morning. The construction worker with the drinking problem never worked for that contractor again and I never forgot to lock the tennis ball mower for the night.
Mohr than a shoe in.. 