The other day, I tried joining a tennis event through TennisBear, a popular Japanese website for finding such events. This particular event was looking for six intermediate or upper-intermediate players, and since there were still a few open slots, I was hopeful I could get in. I applied, entered the required details like my name, phone number, and age, and even left a message mentioning it was my first time joining the group and that I was looking forward to playing with them.

Much to my surprise, I was rejected. It wasn’t my first TennisBear rejection, but I was still surprised because I thought I met all the requirements and that there were enough vacant slots. I checked the website to see the organizer’s message.

He wrote: 「今回は30代までになります」, which translates to “This event is limited to individuals in their thirties or younger.”

Ouch.

I rechecked the event details and confirmed there was no mention of any age restriction. Maybe he changed the rules after reviewing my application—perhaps while comparing it with another applicant who was in his thirties or younger.

Was I a victim of age discrimination?

The good thing about TennisBear, though, is that there are plenty of other events. I simply applied for the next similar one I could find. The sad reality, however, is that many events do have age restrictions, and a growing number are now limited to players in their forties. For now, I still fit that category, but in a couple of years, I’ll reach fifty—and that will definitely limit the number of events I can join.

Fortunately, I’ve built tennis relationships over the years, and there are a few groups I regularly play with without needing to use TennisBear. Some of them I joined after meeting through TennisBear itself. All the more reason to cherish those groups—they’ll likely be the ones I’ll keep playing with as I get older.

That said, playing with random players from TennisBear is still great practice. It helps me adapt to different playing styles and provides opportunities to meet new people and possibly get invited to new tennis circles. I eventually managed to join another event. They had two courts and twelve players in total, and the organizer was even taking videos of the matches, which helped me review my shots.

For my serves, I’ve always wanted to check if I was striking the ball before landing—otherwise, it would count as a foot fault. Through the video, I confirmed that I was doing it correctly, which was a relief. I also realized that although I felt my serve was quite fast, it actually looked pretty ordinary. Maybe good enough for not-so-young casual players like myself, but not yet at the level of advanced players—and nowhere near the pros.

At least in the video, my opponents weren’t able to return my serves, and in the end, that’s all that matters… until I meet someone who can consistently punish them.

In tennis, as in life, I’m still a work in progress.