A Love Letter to Tennis Season

From our courts in Vancouver, with love.

There’s something about tennis season.
The air is a little crisper. The whites a little whiter. The afternoons stretch out in that soft, golden way that makes you want to stay on court just ten minutes longer — even if your backhand’s gone rogue.

We don’t play to win Wimbledon.
We play because it feels good.
Because something shifts when your body is in rhythm with something — or someone — else.

At Après Club, we see tennis not just as a sport, but as a ritual.
One stitched together by quiet concentration, graceful motion, the occasional muttered curse, and that one perfect serve you’ll replay in your head all weekend.

We believe in the charm of the doubles match with your favorite couple.
In the racket that’s always slightly too vintage.
In the lemon wedge that feels unnecessary but isn’t.
In grass stains and gossip and the glory of a well-earned Aperol.

Tennis season is a feeling.
Of fresh starts. Of sun-soaked cheeks. Of hearing “Love–Forty” and feeling, strangely, seen.

And if you’re lucky enough to spend your summer playing tennis in Vancouver — on courts tucked into lush surroundings, with lessons that feel more like rituals — you know the feeling stays with you long after the match ends.

So here’s to the short shorts, the long rallies, the lingering glances.
Here’s to keeping score, but never taking it personally.
And here’s to the post-match — where the real magic happens.

—

The whites will fade.
The tan lines will soften.
But the spirit of tennis stays with you — in the wrist, in the ritual, in the quiet joy of showing up again next Saturday.