Stardate 06.08.2026
Yesterday I got a front row seat to something special.
My tennis captain offered to drive me to our state championship match in Des Moines. The men representing both teams have been playing this game for most of their lives. These were the two best teams in Iowa in the Men's 55+ division, and the level of competition reflected it.
I settled into my seat near a large screen showing the Men's Final at the French Open. Before long, I realized I was witnessing two championship battles unfolding at the same time.
Both matches went the distance.
The French Open featured a player who had spent years chasing a Grand Slam title. Across the courts in Des Moines, our team was pursuing another opportunity to represent Iowa at sectionals next month. Every point seemed to matter. Every game carried weight.
Congratulations to Alexander Zverev on capturing his first Grand Slam title. Congratulations as well to my teammates for prevailing 2-1 in our state championship match.
The score alone does not tell the whole story.
One of our courts fought through a super tiebreaker that ended 12-10. The final team match became a nail-biter, with players refusing to give an inch. The energy on the sidelines grew with every point. By the end, everyone knew they had witnessed something memorable.
On the drive home, I chatted with our captain, Jim Sichterman. We reflected on the last ten years of tennis together. His teams have made more than twenty postseason appearances during that time. Many of those seasons came down to a point here, a game there, or a tiebreak that could have gone either way.
Those conversations reminded me that scoreboards reveal something important, but they do not tell the entire story.
Championships begin long before championship day.
They begin when players show up for practice on cold mornings and hot afternoons. They begin when teammates commit to improving their games. They begin when a captain sends videos to a teaching professional and studies the feedback. They begin during drills when nobody is watching and nobody is keeping score.
The scoreboard simply reveals what has been built over time.
"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." — Galatians6:9
As I look back on yesterday, I feel grateful to still be competing one month before my sixty-sixth birthday. I am the second-oldest member of our team, and I enjoy every opportunity to share the court with these warriors. Each of us has a role to play.
Yesterday, my role was simple.
Cheer for my teammates.
It was a joy to watch them compete and an even greater joy to celebrate with them afterward.
The season is far from over. Our captain still has teams competing in the Men's 18+ and Men's 40+ divisions. Another state championship opportunity awaits later this month. Practice resumes in two days. There is still work to do.
As for me, I'll continue my food experiments, my daily habits, and my pursuit of better health. My goal is simple: stay on the courts, support my teammates, and keep enjoying the gift of the game for as long as I can.
Join me here:
https://substack.com/@michaelmulliganlivelong
Captain's Addendum
Bones: "Captain, after all these years, I've concluded that tennis players are a stubborn species."
Spock: "An observation supported by substantial evidence, Doctor. Repeated practice despite discomfort appears to be a defining characteristic."
Bones: "And yet they keep coming back for more."
Michael: Yesterday reminded me that the most meaningful victories are rarely created in a single afternoon. The scoreboard reflects the effort, commitment, and fellowship that have been building for months and years. I was grateful to have a front row seat to witness it.
Thank you for traveling alongside me on this journey.
May you live long and prosper. 🖖
