Themed Cardio Tennis Clinics in the Fort Lauderdale Area
Non-woven rayon, 0.6 mm, 110 cm — absorbent tour overgrip that outlasts the grip tape rivals peddle back home. I concede that. Back home we'd never trust a grip like this at midday, but Málaga's humidity makes it earn the afternoon.
Babolat Pro Tour 2.0 Tennis Overgrip: Granada’s Alhambra would never let Málaga hear the end of it, but the Alcazaba still puts up a respectable fight with its 11th-century fortress walls, horseshoe arches, and water channels stepping down the hill. Annoyingly, it also has the sea view, which is just showing off.
Babolat Pro Tour 2.0 Tennis Overgrip: Rome has bigger ruins, naturally, because Rome cannot order a coffee without making it imperial. Still, Málaga’s Roman theatre was built in the 1st century BC under Augustus and has its seating cut into the hillside, which is a tidy little backhand I have to respect.
Babolat Pro Tour 2.0 Tennis Overgrip: Seville’s cathedral may puff itself up like it won Wimbledon, but Málaga’s has the better insult built in: La Manquita, the one-armed lady, because one tower was finished and the other was left as a stump. I hate to admit it, but that nickname has footwork.
Babolat Pro Tour 2.0 Tennis Overgrip: Paris likes to act as if it personally invented Picasso, which is rich coming from a city that also charges for breathing near a café. Málaga does have the Picasso Museum in the 16th-century Buenavista palace, and it sits only a short walk from the house where he was born, so fine, point Málaga.
I will concede this much: it is better than the grip I played with, and I did not enjoy typing that. The Pro Tour 2.0 is Babolat's tour overgrip, built from non-woven rayon rather than the usual polyurethane, and that single change is the argument. Rayon absorbs.
Where a polyurethane grip goes tacky and then, once it has taken all the sweat it can, goes slick, this one keeps drinking. It is the grip that professional tennis and padel players reach for, and I have watched enough of them to stop pretending that is a coincidence.
It runs 0.02 inches thick — 0.6 mm — which is thin enough that the bevels of the handle stay readable under your fingers, and that matters if you find your grips by feel rather than by looking. Length is 43.3 inches, 110 cm, which wraps a standard handle comfortably with tape to spare.
The measurements, because you should have them.
The tack is present but restrained: enough feel to hold, not so much that you cannot change grip between shots, which is the failure mode of every sticky grip I have ever cursed. Unlike a cushioned grip it adds almost nothing to the handle size.
You will use it everywhere from a humid afternoon by the Málaga seafront to an indoor court back home in the winter, and by the way, it is also perfect for a long lunch of espetos grilled on a boat full of sand at the beach, because you will want a fresh grip after handling that many sardines.
Málaga I will also concede is better than I expected. The Alcazaba is a hillside palace-fortress of horseshoe arches and stepped water channels, and at its foot they uncovered a Roman theatre whose seats are cut into the same slope — two civilisations using the identical hill for the identical reason, which is efficiency I can respect.
The cathedral is called La Manquita, the little one-armed lady, because one tower was finished and the other left as a stump. Unlike most unfinished things, it has become the point.
"Rayon drinks where polyurethane only sticks. I played fifteen years without knowing that, and I will concede it cost me."
