Themed Cardio Tennis Clinics in the Fort Lauderdale Area
A lightweight tube that picks balls up off the court so a coach does not spend the session bent over. Case closed in one sentence, which almost never happens. Pescara has a bridge 466 metres long and no cars on it.
Dunlop Tennis Ball Pickup Tube: I found the tube at Gabriele D'Annunzio's birthplace, where the rooms are preserved as the scene of his first appearance. The cradle didn't talk, but the floorboards had motive.
Dunlop Tennis Ball Pickup Tube: Three rose windows over three doors on the Cattedrale di San Cetteo. Too tidy for my taste, and with a Guercino inside, the place was clearly connected.
Dunlop Tennis Ball Pickup Tube: Aurum used to be a liquor distillery; now it hosts exhibitions and concerts. Classic suspect behavior—changes the story, keeps the echo.
Dunlop Tennis Ball Pickup Tube: The Ponte del Mare runs 466 metres in a curve for walkers and cyclists over the harbour mouth. Long enough for a getaway, smooth enough to look innocent.
Simple case. Suspect: the coach's lower back. Cause of death: four hundred repetitions of the same movement, twice a day, for fifteen years. Means: a basket on the ground and a habit of bending. Motive: nobody thought about it.
The tool that closes it is unglamorous and completely effective. A lightweight tube, polyurethane, that you press down over a ball on the court; the ball goes up inside and stays there, and you carry on walking.
Dunlop's own line on it is that it helps coaches pick balls up from the court so you get back to hitting faster, and for once there is nothing underneath the sentence — that is exactly and entirely what the object does. No moving parts. Nothing to charge. Nothing to service.
It works on a hard court, it works on clay, it works with cold hands.
The saving is not the seconds; it is the spine. Fifteen years of not bending is the difference between a coach who is still coaching at sixty and one who is not, and nobody notices the injury that never happened, which is the frustrating thing about prevention and the reason nobody buys these until somebody makes them.
The Ponte del Mare is 466 metres of curved deck over the harbour mouth built for people on foot and on bicycles — no cars, none, by design — and it curves rather than running straight because a straight bridge is a corridor and a curved one is a walk. Somebody sat down and considered how a body actually moves. Same instinct as the tube.
And Pescara, where they thought about it.
Down the road, the rooms where Gabriele D'Annunzio was born are kept as they were, and at the Aurum a former liquor distillery has been turned over to exhibitions and concerts, which is another building given a second use instead of a demolition.
You will get use out of this tube everywhere from a junior clinic to a Saturday morning back home, and by the way, the Cattedrale di San Cetteo has three rose windows over three doors and a Guercino inside.
"Nobody notices the injury that never happened. That is the whole problem with prevention."
