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[스포츠뉴스]Picking up padel, the swanky newcomer to Seoul's sports scene

온카뱅크관리자

2024-06-03 10:33:00

<div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_001_20240603103410548.jpg" alt="" />Mary practices her forehand moments after picking up a padel paddle for the very first time. [MMOVE] </div> </div> Given the existence of tennis-adjacent squash and pickleball, it shouldn’t surprise me to learn that the jeu de paume has another not-so-distant cousin: Padel. Which uncharacteristically does not share a name with something that one might find on a platter at a summertime picnic. Padel adds itself to the list of “sports I didn’t know existed until becoming a sports reporter” when I get an invitation to join a few pick-up games at some new courts that just opened in Seoul. But, again, it’s far from a novelty. I’m told padel is a popular social sport in Spain (second only to football), and it’s been quietly making its global rounds. Born in Mexico in 1969 (the year man first walked on the moon), padel is a faster version of tennis but chiller version of squash. It’s played on courts surrounded by walls, like squash, with fluorescent yellow balls, like tennis &#8212; though they’re smaller and have slightly less bounce. The Washington Post in January called padel a “posher” version of pickleball, the very American retirement community game that’s been infiltrated by millennials and reality-avoidant Gen Zs. Padel on the other hand is supposedly the racket sport of choice among highbrow business elites. I also read that padel is being billed as “the new golf” and courts are popping up in billionaire hot spots like Miami and New York. Yet we still haven’t made it to Mars. (So who’s winning?) The PR people for the new Seoul padel courts propose a date for a visit, and I tell my executive assistant to put it on my calendar. (And by "executive assistant" and "calendar" I mean I scribbled it down on my notepad. Come on, we're in print news.) I’ll rally. Rooftop party Believe me, I tried my hand at a slate of racket sports throughout my youth. Tennis, table tennis, badminton. Swatting flies with a plastic spatula. My mom did sign me up for group tennis lessons at the local YMCA when I was in elementary school. Ten-year-old tennis-me was not very talented; my favorite part of every class was when it ended &#8212; so I could use the hopper basket to gather all the stray balls around the gym. But I’ve been promised a padel lesson from Roger Royo, the president of the Spanish Chamber of Commerce in Korea and alleged avid padel-er, so I won’t be thrown straight into the deep end without any training. (Though I do worry about offending the Spanish business community with my subpar padel playing.) I’m slated to meet Roger at 10 a.m. on a Friday at the MMove Padel Lounge above Yongsan Station in central Seoul. I’m hopeful that I’ll just miss the daily rush hour game of subway sardines. I pick out what feels like a proper padel outfit. Running shoes, shorts, a white T-shirt. Hair in a high pony and a braid. I also throw in my bag a sweatband and a visor, for good measure and vibes. It’s a straight shot to Yongsan Station &#8212; and the rooftop padel lounge &#8212; on the Gyeongui-Jungang Line. There is one other guy in a baseball cap in a similar shorts-and-a-tee get-up with a duffel slung over his shoulder, but surely we’re not both going to the padel courts on the top floor of the shopping mall above the train station and it’s pure coincidence? I shuffle out of the subway car and into a busy mall. I’ve been instructed to enter one of the buildings called The Centre and head straight up to the seventh floor &#8212; the roof. The elevator doors open to reveal a fancy-looking steakhouse to my right while natural sunlight floods through another set of doors on the left leading to the outdoor patio. I easily spot the sign for “Mmove Padel,” written in blocky blue and yellow ombre letters, and follow the arrow pointing to the right. Turns out I didn’t need to worry about having issues finding the padel lounge as I immediately spot a set of four bubblegum-colored courts that create an abstract sea of bright green, blue, pink and purple. (Did Mmove hire the same color consultants as the makers of the Barbie movie?) <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_002_20240603103410601.jpg" alt="" />Mary joins a group of padel enthusiasts who are way out of her league. (Skillwise.) [MMOVE] </div> </div> The courts are enclosed in a sort of greenhouse-esque open-air pavilion, which at first seems an interesting architectural choice until I later learn that the structure is there to support a mechanical roof that covers the area in case of rain. (Convertible courts? Seoul is seriously living in the future.) A few outdoor tables sit on a corner of artificial turf by the entrance to the glass-walled courts. Swanky. There is a singles game going on, as well as what appears to be a padel lesson, on two of the farther courts while the others sit unoccupied. (I wonder how the people playing have managed to negotiate free time on a weekday morning.) I meet the people I’ve been emailing with at the opposite end of the courts in an air-conditioned clubhouse. It holds a reception desk, a wall of padel gear and a coffee bar with a refrigerated display case complete with cakes, soft drinks and packaged by-the-glass wine. (Did I mention the swank?) Finally, Roger arrives &#8212; in a button-down and slacks &#8212; and I feel severely underdressed for the brief interview we’d planned for, before hitting the courts. We sit down for a chat in another section of the facility, on a cushioned wicker sectional, and I feel like I’m in a beachside cabana at an all-inclusive island resort &#8212; definitely not in a densely populated city with a pollution problem. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_003_20240603103410666.jpg" alt="" />Spanish Chamber of Commerce in Korea President Roger Royo, left, sits down for a chat at the padel cabana that gives major holiday vibes. [MMOVE] </div> </div> Roger tells me that padel (he pronounces it “pah-dell,” emphasizing the first syllable) is becoming the new front for networking and high-stakes handshakes. Put down the golf club and pick up a paddle. Get with the times. Getting down to business And it is time. We cut the chitchat and head on over to the courts, where a group of four guys have been wrapped up in a pretty intense doubles match. One of the four is in fact the guy from the subway &#8212; Guy, from South Africa, who works in Korea as a golf and tennis instructor and freelance model. Their rally, which has left one guy wearing a blue polo drenched in sweat, had served as the soundtrack to Roger’s and my cabana chat. While tennis carries a rhythmic thwack from each time the ball makes contact with the racket, a padel match sounds like a series of loud stomps. (There's that resemblance to squash.) The most glaring difference between tennis and padel is an aesthetic one. While tennis players use a stringed racket, a padel racket is, well, unsurprisingly, a paddle. A padel paddle has a bunch of holes, which I read helps with aerodynamics or swing speed or something. It kind of looks like a hockey mask, which at first is a little jarring, as the holey face helmets have been co-opted by the horror genre’s “Friday the 13th” and “Halloween.” The man in the blue polo steps off the court and introduces himself. “William,” he says, slightly breathless while somehow managing to maintain the energy level of a hyperactive golden retriever. He’s the guy behind the Korea Padel Federation and will be the one teaching us today, I learn. Not Roger, who at this point has traded his office attire for shorts and a “British Rowing” collared shirt. And another woman who runs a Spanish-interest social platform in Korea joins us, too. Both of them have played before, so I’m the only total padel newbie. Before we actually step onto the court, William gives us a few basic instructions. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_004_20240603103410714.jpg" alt="" />Learning all about hammers and swans. [MMOVE] </div> </div> I pick up a paddle and am surprised by how light it feels in my hand. It’s like the corgi version of a regular-sized tennis racket. Shorter and more compressed. I wrap my right hand around the grip, and William tells us to pretend we’re holding a hammer. I try to channel Thor, before “Avengers: Endgame.” He starts slicing the paddle through the air like he’s clobbering a nail into the wall, to give us a visual and really hammer the point home. William also instructs me to leave some space between my index finger and middle finger (I was gripping the handle like Arthur from that one meme circa 2016), like pulling a trigger. This grip is called the continental grip and can be used for basically any shot &#8212; backhand, forehand, etc. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_005_20240603103410786.jpg" alt="" />William corrects Mary's grip. Get a grip, Mary! [MMOVE] </div> </div> He demonstrates one shot where you pull your arm back, “like a swan,” William says, taking a winged position. Trust me, I’ll be winging it at all times. Lots o' love One quickest-ever lesson later, the four of us take to one of the courts surrounded by glass. In padel, like squash, walls are part of the game. The ball remains in play if it hits the wall &#8212; as long as it bounces on the ground first. But a player must then hit the ball before it touches the ground again. Sounds complicated, but the advice I get from Roger is to just keep playing no matter what happens. And all serves must be underhand, so there’s no room to be remembered for a really weird serve or fake out your opponent. Everything else is like tennis &#8212; fail to return the ball or let it bounce twice, point goes to your opponent. Love, 15, 30, 40, deuce, advantage. The works. I get the honor of the first serve. I bring my right arm back and am revved up to swing, but I throw the ball down and whip the paddle forward and come in contact with the air. A few laughs ring out from the opposite end of the court and from outside, where the folks working with Mmove are watching my every &#8212; move. A trick is to simply let go of the ball, William says. There’s no need for an extra throw or bounce. “Just let go to get past love” becomes my mantra for the match &#8212; and potentially life. (Who knew padel could be so poetic?) <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_006_20240603103410848.jpg" alt="" />Mary repeats the mantra ″Just let go to get past love.″ [MMOVE] </div> </div> We get a few rallies going, and I get used to the weight of the paddle, though my presence on the court mimics an uncoordinated ballerina. And more times than not, I overshoot and lob the ball straight into the wall, skipping over the required first bounce. “Too much power!” William shouts. I need to chill on the Thor energy. The ball travels quickly, and the courts are small, so everything is very fast-paced. I’m pivoting and diving and lunging to reach the ball, which hits the ground, and I, with it. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_007_20240603103410904.jpg" alt="" />Mary takes a tumble after channeling too much Thor. [MMOVE] </div> </div> William needs to dash to another lesson, and it appears that Roger needs to take care of some business on the side, so two other people who are also involved in the Spain-Korea business community take their places. The woman who joins at the opposite end wears a T-shirt and jeans while my new doubles partner dons a button-down, pleated trousers and leather shoes. We rally a bit more before I step off the court for a break. I’m dripping in sweat, and I send thoughts and prayers to my teammate who dressed for an air-conditioned office, not the country club. I am led over to another corner of the lounge, and I’m told to feel free to shower off. The PR person gestures to what looks like a colorful refrigerator box. It’s an air shower, she tells me. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_008_20240603103410964.jpg" alt="" />Mary is concerned as she closes the door to the air shower, which reminds her of a grisly prop from a childhood movie. [MMOVE] </div> </div> Does anyone remember the film adaptation of Roald Dahl’s Matilda? The air shower is giving major chokey vibes. But sure, I’ll step into this windowless metal booth. Model padel player I’m all aired off, but I stick around the padel courts as I’ve still got some swing in me. The guys from earlier are still at it, and I ask if I can join. Besides Guy from South Africa, one guy is from Denmark and is also a model, and the third guy is a ceramic artist originally from Turkey with an upcoming gallery. So I totally fit in. I tell them not to go easy on me, which is a mistake. They’ve been playing for years in Europe, and we can all agree that I’m no padel whiz. At one point, a speeding ball whips right in front of my nose as I make like Neo from the Matrix and dodge. <div class="ab_photo photo_center "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_009_20240603103411024.jpg" alt="" />Mary, left, disappoints on the court. [MMOVE] </div> </div> A few sets later (we do manage one win), it's deuces from me as I'm affirmatively all padeled out. I'm beat after leaving it all on the court. I head back to the elevators by the Outback Steakhouse with a lot of love for the ritzy racket sport. Advantage padel. <div class="ab_photo photo_left "> <div class="image"> <img src="https://imgnews.pstatic.net/image/640/2024/06/03/0000054612_010_20240603103411083.jpg" alt="" /> </div> </div> The Korea JoongAng Daily's Mary Yang is on a mission to try her hand at any and every sport that will let her in the door. She can't promise skill or finesse, but she'll give it a good go.