Okay, so my buddy, Alex, right? He’s absolutely mad about tennis. Plays all the time, watches every match, probably dreams about fuzzy yellow balls. His birthday was rolling around, and I was stuck, like really stuck, on what to get him. He’s got all the serious racquets, the fancy shoes, enough wristbands to stock a small shop. I figured, this year, it had to be something funny, something to make him actually laugh out loud, not just politely nod, you know?
So, I started my quest. First, I traipsed around a few local sports stores. Zilch. Nada. Just rows and rows of very serious, very professional gear. Not a giggle in sight. Then, I dived into the internet. Oh boy. The amount of stuff labelled “funny tennis gifts” was insane, but most of it was just… not. I mean, seriously, who actually wants a t-shirt with a terrible pun that barely makes sense?
I remember sifting through pages of stuff like:
- Really cheesy “Tennis Dad” mugs. Alex isn’t even a dad.
- Socks with tennis balls on them that looked like they were designed by a toddler.
- Those miniature desk tennis sets. Pointless, really.
I was getting pretty frustrated, honestly. I nearly gave up and just decided on a gift voucher. How boring is that? I really wanted something with a bit more thought, something that showed I actually put some effort in, not just grabbed the easiest option.
Then, I was actually looking for something completely unrelated, some old photos, and I stumbled upon this picture of Alex from years ago. It was from this charity tennis match we played, and he was wearing this ridiculous old-school headband and some truly awful shorts. We’d laughed about that outfit for ages. And BAM, the idea hit me. It wasn’t about buying some generic “funny” thing; it was about making something funny to him.
So, my plan shifted. I decided I was going to get a couple of those cheap, plain white tennis balls and try to customize them. I’m no artist, let me tell you. My first attempts were… well, let’s just say they were abstract. I tried drawing a caricature of his face from that old photo onto one ball. It looked more like a startled potato. My wife walked in, took one look, and just burst out laughing, which wasn’t quite the supportive reaction I was hoping for, but hey, at least someone found it funny.
I didn’t give up, though. I got some better permanent markers, finer tips this time. I simplified the design. Instead of his whole face, I drew that iconic, slightly dodgy headband he wore in the photo on one ball, and on another, I wrote one of our old inside joke phrases related to his less-than-stellar backhand back in the day. It was still pretty amateurish, but it was personal. I found a silly, oversized presentation box, stuffed it with some bright green tissue paper, and nestled the balls inside.
When his birthday came, I handed it over. He was a bit confused at first, looking at this big, daft box. Then he opened it. He picked up the balls, looked at them, and then this huge grin spread across his face. He properly belly-laughed. He got it immediately. It wasn’t about the artistic merit, or lack thereof. It was the memory, the shared joke. He said it was the best present he’d got in ages, way better than another high-tech gadget.
It just made me realize, you know? Sometimes the funniest presents aren’t the ones you buy off a shelf that scream “I AM FUNNY.” It’s the ones that have a bit of you in them, a bit of shared history. Took a bit of faffing about, sure, and my drawing skills are still questionable, but seeing him laugh like that? Totally worth it. Made me think I should try making more presents like that, even if they look a bit rough around the edges.
