Some time during the 2004 Summer Olympics, I became a tennis fan. The Mister played tennis in high school and did a few more “official” junior tournaments, up until the point he blew out his shoulder. (Turns out, it’s not a good idea for a 16-year-old to have a 120 mph serve without resting properly. Who knew?) Later, he would still watch tennis, and I’d half-pay attention, but I didn’t really know the rules or any of the players. Then, the afternoon when Olympic tennis was on in 2004, I got sucked in. Match after match, country after country – the rules started to make a bit more sense. I was invested. Since then, it’s become about the only sport I watch, which is something my American football-loving mother may never understand.