Tennis Player Tries Pickleball, Immediately Apologizes For Years Of Mockery
Former skeptic now owns six paddles and has started a podcast about 'the journey'

— The Internet's Most Devoted Pickleball Congregation —
"Blessed are the dinkers, for they shall inherit the court."
Souls Saved by Pickleball
112,995,961
and counting
A sacred response to the heresy at fckpickleball.com
01 — Latest Revelations
All stories are divine truth. Probably.
Former skeptic now owns six paddles and has started a podcast about 'the journey'
Congregation reports he has not mentioned tennis in over four months
Researchers note tennis's 'thwack' triggers only mild satisfaction by comparison
'We never had 36.5 million players. We never had this kind of love. Godspeed.' — Racketball's Ghost
02 — The Sacred Doctrines
The following positions are held with absolute love and will be defended with the ferocity of a third-shot drop.

They say: 'Pickleball is not tennis. Stop calling it tennis. Tennis is calling its lawyers.'
We say: Correct. Pickleball is not tennis. Tennis is a sport where you run for three hours to hit a ball that four people in the stadium can actually see. Pickleball took everything good about racket sports — the strategy, the reflexes, the community — and removed the part where you need a country club membership and a chiropractor on retainer. Tennis didn't evolve. Pickleball was born evolved. The smaller court isn't a limitation. It's an invitation. The plastic ball isn't inferior. It's democratic. Tennis is calling its lawyers because it knows it's losing the case.
They say: 'Padel has walls. Walls are good. Padel is trying harder.'
We say: Padel has walls because it needs them — to keep players from escaping to a pickleball court. Padel is the sport equivalent of a participation trophy: it exists, it tries, and we acknowledge it with the gentleness one reserves for a child's first drawing of a horse. Padel players are 'slightly less evangelical at dinner parties' because nobody at the dinner party knows what padel is. We don't need walls. We have community. We have 36.5 million players. Padel has a nice glass enclosure and the quiet dignity of irrelevance.
They say: 'Racketball had 14 million players. You know where racketball is now.'
We say: Racketball peaked at 14 million. Pickleball has 36.5 million and is still ascending. Racketball required a windowless room and a rubber ball that could take out an eye. Pickleball can be played in a park, a driveway, a gymnasium, a retirement community, a corporate retreat, or the parking lot of a church — and it is glorious in every setting. Racketball died because it was trapped in a box. Pickleball thrives because it is free. The comparison is not a warning. It is an insult to pickleball's trajectory. We forgive them, for they know not what they dink.
They say: 'The pop sound is not satisfying. We will not be taking questions.'
We say: The pop is not merely satisfying. It is transcendent. It is the sound of a polymer ball meeting a composite paddle at the exact frequency of human joy. Scientists — real ones, not the ones from their 'internal department of made-up statistics' — have noted that repetitive, percussive sounds at this frequency promote focus, reduce anxiety, and foster social bonding. The 'thwack' of tennis is the sound of effort. The 'pop' of pickleball is the sound of arrival. You don't take questions because you have no answers. We don't take questions because the pop speaks for itself.
They say: 'There is merchandise. The shirt says what needs to be said.'
We say: They sell shirts that say 'FCK PICKLEBALL.' We don't need shirts. We have paddles. We have courts. We have 36.5 million witnesses. But if we did make a shirt, it would say 'BLESSED BE THE DINK' and it would be available in moisture-wicking fabric, because we are not ashamed of our visors, our athletic wear, or our unshakeable commitment to looking good while playing the greatest sport ever invented. Their merch is a cry for help. Our existence is the answer.
They published a 7-point essay on why pickleball sucks.
We published a 7-point rebuttal on why it is sacred.

03 — By The Blessed Numbers
Numbers don't lie. But fckpickleball.com's numbers are... outdated.
Americans Who Play Pickleball
and counting, gloriously
They said 4.8M. They were using 2022 data. Bless their hearts.
Year Pickleball Was Blessed Upon Us
same year as the miniskirt — both revolutionary
They called this a coincidence. We call it destiny.
Grand Slams In Our Hearts
who needs a trophy when you have community?
They said 0 Grand Slams. We said: who's counting? (They are. Obsessively.)
Dedicated Pickleball Facilities in the U.S.
each one a chapel of joy
Every converted tennis court is a soul saved.
04 — A Meditation
They call it "the worst sound in sport." We call it the hymn of our people.

Their site has a "Rage-O-Meter." We have this. Because we chose joy.
Turn your sound on.
Spiritually Dormant
You haven't heard the pop yet. Your soul awaits.
"The tennis thwack is the sound of effort. The pickleball pop is the sound of arrival."
— The Book of Dink, Chapter 4, Verse 12
05 — The Origin Myth
They mock the origin story. We canonize it.

Patron Saint of the Court
They say the sport is "named after a dog" as though this is an insult. As though the most loyal, joyful, unconditionally loving creature on Earth is somehow a mark of shame. We say: of course it's named after a dog. What else would you name the most joyful sport ever created?
In 1965, on Bainbridge Island, Washington, three fathers — Joel Pritchard, Bill Bell, and Barney McCallum — invented a game to entertain their bored children. The family dog, Pickles, would chase the errant balls and run off with them. And so the sport was christened.
The haters at fckpickleball.com present this as the "entire origin story" as if it diminishes the sport. We present it as what it truly is: a creation myth more charming than any sport deserves. Tennis was invented by monks. Golf was invented by bored Scots hitting rocks. Pickleball was invented by loving fathers and blessed by a dog. We win.
"And the dog did chase the ball, and the ball did have holes, and the fathers did see that it was good. And they called it Pickleball, and it was blessed."
— The Book of Dink, Genesis 1:1
06 — The Divine Rankings
They have a "Sport Legitimacy Index." We have something better. We have the truth.
"The sport that was promised"
The Chosen One. Blessed beyond measure. The sport that was promised.
* Data sourced from our internal Department of Divine Statistics. Methodology: prayer and vibes.
10 — The Sacred Comparison
A rigorous, peer-reviewed, completely unbiased analysis of two sports. One is sacred. The other is tennis.
Measured in smiles, laughs, and involuntary whoops
Pickleball: 10 minutes. Tennis: the rest of your life.
Hard to make friends when you're 78 feet apart
A visor is not an accessory. It is a lifestyle.
Tennis players look angry even when they win
Ages 8 to 88. Tennis has a dress code.
The pop is music. Tennis sounds like a sneaker on linoleum.
We share paddles. They share lawyers.
* Methodology: We asked pickleball players to rate both sports. Results may reflect a slight bias. We stand by them completely. Hover over each metric for scholarly commentary.
11 — The Testimonies
They once walked in darkness. They mocked the paddle, dismissed the Kitchen, and questioned the pop. Then they played one game. These are their stories.
Former Tennis Loyalist
Scottsdale, AZ
847 days converted
Former Sin
Once called pickleball 'tennis for quitters'
"I spent 22 years on the tennis court. I had a coach. I had a racket that cost more than my first car. Then my neighbor invited me to play pickleball on a Tuesday morning. I said no fourteen times. On the fifteenth, I went. I haven't touched my tennis racket since. It's in the garage now, behind the Christmas decorations. I don't miss it."
"I haven't touched my tennis racket since."
Click to read full testimony
Recovering Skeptic
Portland, OR
612 days converted
Former Sin
Shared a post from fckpickleball.com (she is forgiven)
"I was the person at the party who would say 'pickleball isn't a real sport' and then look around for approval. Nobody ever approved. My husband started playing without me. Then my kids. Then my mother-in-law. I was the last holdout. I played one game in September. By October I had my own paddle. By November I had three. I now play four times a week and I have never been happier. I owe my family an apology."
"I owe my family an apology."
Click to read full testimony
Reformed Hater
Austin, TX
423 days converted
Former Sin
Wrote a 2,000-word Reddit post about why pickleball is 'destroying America'
"I was angry about the noise. I was angry about the courts. I was angry that my racketball league got moved to make room for pickleball. I wrote letters to the city council. I started a petition. I got 11 signatures. Then one day the pickleball people invited me to play. They were so nice about it that I felt guilty. I played. I scored a point. I felt something I hadn't felt in years. I deleted the petition that night."
"I felt something I hadn't felt in years."
Click to read full testimony
Enlightened Convert
Naples, FL
1095 days converted
Former Sin
Told her husband pickleball was 'a phase'
"My husband retired and immediately became obsessed with pickleball. I told him it was a phase. I told him it was embarrassing. I told him real athletes don't wear visors. He bought me a paddle for Christmas anyway. I didn't speak to him for two days. On the third day, I played. On the fourth day, I bought my own visor. We now play doubles together every morning at 7am. It is the best part of my day. He has never once said 'I told you so.' He didn't need to."
"He has never once said 'I told you so.' He didn't need to."
Click to read full testimony
Humbled Athlete
Chicago, IL
289 days converted
Former Sin
Laughed at a coworker's pickleball paddle in the office
"I played D3 tennis in college. When my coworker brought his pickleball paddle to the office, I laughed. Out loud. In front of people. He challenged me to a game. I accepted because I assumed I would win easily. I lost 11-2. Then 11-4. Then 11-3. He was 63 years old. I bought a paddle the next day. I have not laughed at anyone's paddle since. I have, however, lost to that same 63-year-old man seventeen more times."
"I lost 11-2. He was 63 years old."
Click to read full testimony
Born Again Pickleballer
Boca Raton, FL
731 days converted
Former Sin
Called the pop sound 'the most annoying noise in sports'
"I lived next to a pickleball court. Every morning at 6:30am: pop, pop, pop. I filed noise complaints. I wrote to the HOA. I considered moving. Then one morning I walked over to tell them to keep it down and a woman handed me a paddle and said 'just try one game, dear.' I played one game. Then another. Then another. I now wake up at 6:15am to make sure I get a court. The pop doesn't bother me anymore. It's the sound of my alarm clock, and I love it."
"The pop doesn't bother me anymore. It's the sound of my alarm clock."
Click to read full testimony
Were you once a hater? Have you seen the light?
Your story could be here. All it takes is one game.
06 — Wear Your Devotion
They sell shirts that say "FCK PICKLEBALL." We sell garments that honor the game.
Choose your side wisely.

Blessed Be The Dink
The moisture-wicking visor they mocked is now a holy relic. Gold-embroidered on consecrated white performance fabric. Wear it to the court. Wear it to brunch. Wear it to your enemies' funerals.
One for each million American who plays pickleball
"fckpickleball.com sells hate. We sell headwear."

The Church of Pickleball — Est. 1965
A cathedral arch. A radiant paddle. A sport reborn. This isn't a t-shirt — it's a vestment. Deep navy cotton with gold screen-printed iconography that says 'I worship at the court.'
Tithe not included
"Their shirts say FCK. Ours say FAITH."

Carry Your Paddle With Reverence
Hand-crafted burgundy leather with gold hardware and the sacred Dinkus Maximus crest. Because your paddle deserves better than a gym bag. It deserves a reliquary.
Named after the year of our sport's birth
"They carry grievances. We carry paddles. In style."
All proceeds go toward converting tennis courts into pickleball courts.
(Not really. But spiritually? Absolutely.)
08 — The Ordination
Every pilgrim who enters the Church of Pickleball is bestowed a holy name. Enter your worldly name below and be ordained.
09 — The Great Commission
Do you know someone who has strayed from the path? Someone who mocks the pop, dismisses the Kitchen, or — heaven forbid — shares content from fckpickleball.com? Generate a personalized intervention letter and bring them back to the light.
07 — Seek Redemption
They have a "Bureau of Grievances." We have a place of mercy. Because we are better than them.
We know you're out there. We've seen your website. We've read your manifesto. We've noted your merchandise. And we want you to know: we forgive you.
Not because you deserve it — you called our sport "this generation's racketball" and that was genuinely hurtful — but because forgiveness is what pickleball people do. We are a community of grace, of open courts, of shared paddles.
So come. Confess your sins against pickleball. Receive absolution. And maybe — just maybe — pick up a paddle afterward.
Souls Redeemed to Date
77,624
One more than their grievance count. Always.
Latest confession: "I run a website called fckpickleball.com. I have spent more time thinking about pickleball than most pickleball players. I think this means I love it. Please help."