competition christmas

My apologies for the lack of posting of late - I prepped a full schedule of stories for you this week but my other half has kept things WAY TOO EXCITING here in Switzerland for me to get back to my computer and hit publish. 
What kind of excitement, you ask?
Well you're just going to have to hold your horses until next week, but I promise the wait will be WELL worth it.

For now, you'll have to be entertained with another recap on the Krieg Family Christmas traditions.  As you may or may not have deduced from this blog, I come from a bit of a hyperactive family.  We despise downtime.  Every minute needs to be filled to the brim with heart-pumping, adrenaline-inducing, calorie-torching activity, so naturally our Christmas ends up being an exhausting smorgasbord of competitive games, exercises, and events.

This past weekend got kicked off with our Annual Poinsetta Classic - a scramble golf tournament Christmas Eve day.  If you were following last week, you already now how this event ended for me, and while I do like to be humble by admitting my weaknesses every now and again, I'm going to have to pass at this opportunity. 
My dad and his sister (Aunt Stacey) took home the trophy on this one.

The next morning (Christmas morning!), we woke up to the closest you can come to a white Christmas down on Gasparilla Island:

But don't be fooled - this fog was all cleared up by the time we hit the courts for our Annual Tennis Championship later that morning.

I was lucky enough to paired with the tourney's organizer: my aunt Stacey's funny and quicker-than-he-looks husband Jim.

Despite my absolutely pitiful performance as his partner last year, he decided to roll the dice by placing me on his team for a second year in a row.  I was determined to show him I wasn't the easily aced, erratic, hit-the-ball-over-the-fence player I was last year.  I showed up with a fierceness that even Roger Federer would envy.

The team's were:

• My sister Gretters and my aunt Stacey: A decent player with her moments of brilliance (Gretters) paired with a serious and very stylish tennis pro who seriously cleans up at the old ladies' tourneys - don't be deceived: those 75-year-olds can place balls like you've never seen
• My mom and my brother Sam: Really good (Mom) paired with strong, fast, scrappy, and athletic Sam - in hindsight, a completely stacked and unbeatable team, but they both sand-bagged their way through Jim's team selections making the team appear to be a fair pairing
• My dad and my cousin Em: Really good (Dad) paired with a top D-III basketball recruit with some not-to-be-messed-around-with strength and some serious athletic prowess
• Me and Jim: Plainly pathetic (me) paired with another serious tennis pro with a mean back-hand, unreal at-the-net know-how, and the uncanny ability to place the ball right on the line

Em with her mom, Stacey

who was recovering from a bad case of shin splints

(or so she claims - I'd say she was pretty darn healthy

from those moves I saw on the court)

Sam - always the master of getting into position right in time

While I had all the best intentions, sometimes things don't go according to plan.  I quickly learned (after spiking one ball directly into the bottom of the net and another two courts to our right) that the game involved a tad bit more than will.

But I continued to give it my all as Jim carried us for game after game.
The first-round end result was unfortunately a lost set for Team Jim-Carrying-KK, and a bad one at that.

Dad - after mutilating Me and Jim in Round One

(Well, if I'm being honest: after mutilating ME. 

Jim kept me from going out on nil and forties six games in a row.)

Mom - cleaning up on court 5,

taking her and her youngest (Sam) to the finals

Me and Dad with Santa (aka. Cousin Wyler)

in between rounds

We came back to the finals - vying for 3rd place against Team Stacey-and-Gretters - with a vengeance.  After a few pointers from my partner, I was ready to clean up my act. 

 

 

Unfortunately, a win was not in the cards for us on this one either.  After a long and taxing match (and after far too many opponent match points for my liking), Stac and Gretters were crowned victorious landing them with the third place spot right below Dad and Em who narrowly missed sniping the champion title from the favored Team Mom-and-Sam. 

The whole crew post finals

While the loss saddened my spirit, I knew a luscious latte and gooey cheese danish were exactly what I needed to lift it back up again.  So Mom, Dad, Gretters, Sam and I walked the beach into town to the Inn Bakery to get some goods.  When we arrived, however, we found the doors locked and the staff cleaning.


I thought all hope was lost but then an angel appeared: Reainn from Sunny, Florida heading over to the Fire Department to drop off the left-over $2 doughnuts, $4 danishes, and $5 pastries.  She saw our sad, yet eager, faces and awarded them with a platter of our own of the goodies, along with a few boxes in which to transport them back to our mother ship.

We enjoyed these delicious delicacies (along with my brother's to-die-for homemade chocolate and pumpkin whoopie pies and a fresh Key Lime pie courtesy of Stacey and Jim) that evening as our Master of Ceremonies - Poppy - dished out prizes from our two days of events.

While "Most Stylish" (Stacey), "Most Improved" (Gretchen), "Longest Drive with a 7-iron" (Sam) were all in the listings, Jim and I ended up with the "Most Pathetic of All" (or something to that nature - the exact wording has been pushed from my mind).  While at first I felt a twinge of disappointment (we've discussed this before, but I'll tell you again: I really do like to be the best), the sight of my winnings changed my tune.

A brief (but worthwhile, I promise) digression:

Last Christmas, Stefan was around for the tennis tourney pairing up with my mom and coming in a close second versus the fierce and firey Team Gretters-and-Wyler.  Poppy - a fine connoisseur of art, but always the jokester - procured two elegant and sophisticated paintings as awards for their victory:

1

Something along these lines but with an older lady

as the model and the slogan "EXPOSE YOURSELF" along the top

The blow from losing had been tough enough, but seeing his winnings and fully understanding what he had missed out on tore Stefan apart.  For the past 365 days, whenever Poppy's name is mentioned, Stefan strikes a pose and declares: "EXPOSE YOURSELF!" mourning over his long-lost love: the painting he never had.

Stefan's sadness and my desire to make my man happy did not go unnoticed by my brainiac of a grandfather - my award for losing was this very painting, perfectly packaged for me to take back to its true owner.

As Jim and I accepted our winnings (him - a bottle of rum, me - the elegant art), he declared, "We may not have had the best sets, but we had the most fun."  And I couldn't agree more.

I hope he'll take a chance on me again next year.

xoxo
KK