Levi Thompson was an outstanding tennis player, but he always had a dinky serve. That’s how he described it himself, and those of us who played with him agreed.
His serves would not even have registered on those sophisticated machines they have now showing how fast players are hitting the ball. Roger Federer’s average serve is 125 miles an hour.
Without one of those devices to calculate it, my guess is that Levi’s best serve would not have reached the speed limit of Front Street in Natchitoches.
You could read the word Penn or Wilson on the ball that Levi served while waiting for it to get to you. Nobody was ever hauled off in an ambulance if Levi hit them with his serve.
Despite its lack of speed, though, Levi’s serve was effective and hard to return. He could make it spin out to the right or left, jump straight up or just hover a few inches above the ground.
Levi won a lot of matches when he played for the Northwestern tennis team nearly 70 years ago and later earned a reputation as one of the state’s best adult players.
He loved to tell stories, and one of his favorites was how he developed his slow, tricky serve when he started playing in Waterproof where he grew up.
The only court in town had big cracks in it and roots coming through the concrete in a couple of places, Levi said. So he worked at hitting precise serves to avoid the obstacles and concentrated on accuracy instead of speed.
Levi’s dinky serve became significant to me when I started playing competitive tennis more than a half century ago. The first tournament I ever played in was with Levi.
I had known and admired him for years. He was obviously smart because he read, understood and taught Latin. Learning another language is hard. I had two semesters of Spanish in college and never learned to say hello in that language.
Levi was also considered a masterful football strategist during his coaching years and a good school administrator who was guided by the principles of teamwork that came from his sports background.
But tennis was always close to his heart. I had played with him a time or two and been beaten badly, so I was surprised when he asked me to be his doubles partner in a big tournament.
We were playing a really good team from Alexandria. Levi was serving, and I was at the net. On Levi’s first serve, the return hit me in the midsection before I could even raise my racket.
The next return zoomed past me inches from my head. Levi called me to mid-court and asked what I needed him to do with his serve. I said, “Double fault before you get my butt killed up here.”
My back was to Levi, and I kept waiting for him to serve again. When I turned to see what the delay was about, Levi was bent over with his hands on his knees laughing.
Levi and I played a lot of tournaments together before he gave up the game. Then he helped hook me up with another great doubles partner, Tom Eppler, who was also a former college player.
Closing in on 90-years-old now, Levi has some memory lapses like so many others that age. The last time I saw him was at the dedication of the new city tennis complex managed by his son-in-law Willie Paz.
His family members said he might not remember me. I walked over and shook hands with him. He said, “Do you want me to double fault so you don’t get your butt killed up there?” Then he talked about nearly every point of that match.
Levi opened the door to an exciting new world to me by introducing me to competitive tennis. Regina and I have played in countless local, state, regional and national tournaments over the years.
We developed close and lasting friendships on those tennis trips to Palm Springs, Tucson, Mobile, Miami, Louisville, New Orleans, Chattanooga and many places in between.
I am indebted to Levi Thompson for the decades of pleasure that tennis brought me even if his dinky serve did endanger my life. I thanked him that day I saw him and could tell that he understood.
REPRINTED FROM THE NATCHITOCHES TIMES