Unpaid Pickleball Player Shows Up at Open Play. Is Asked to Leave Before Tying Second Shoe
Local Las Vegas man Gary Mitchell, 54, who had spent three weeks working up the courage to try pickleball for the first time, drove twenty minutes to a recreational facility Tuesday afternoon, walked through the door with a brand new paddle still bearing its price tag, and was asked to leave before tying his second shoe.
Gary had seen the words “Open Play” on the facility’s website. He had interpreted them as an invitation to show up and play. This was his first mistake.
He sat in the car park for eleven minutes before going in. He had a small speech prepared about being a beginner. He had purchased a paddle the sporting goods store employee described as “very forgiving,” a quality Gary had hoped would extend to the people inside. He had told himself three times in the rear view mirror that pickleball was supposed to be the friendliest sport in America and this was going to be fine.
It was not fine.
He went inside. He found the court. He sat on the bench and began lacing his brand new court shoes, an act he would later describe as the most expensive mistake of his adult life given that he had not yet paid the fifteen dollar session fee and was therefore technically trespassing on a recreational pickleball bench.
He had finished the left shoe and was reaching for the right when a shadow fell across him.
The shadow belonged to Dave, 51, an electrician who stood six foot two, had played every Tuesday for four years, kept a laminated copy of the facility’s session rules in his kit bag, and had been waiting for exactly this kind of situation since approximately 2021.
“Did you sign up?” said Dave, producing a clipboard that witnesses confirmed had not existed moments earlier.
Gary looked up from his second shoe.
He had not signed up. He had not known signing up was required. The session, he noted, was called Open Play.
“Did you pay?” said Dave, making a note on the clipboard in the manner of a man who had been put on this earth to make notes on clipboards.
Gary had not paid. He had not known paying was required. The session was, he wished to reiterate for the record, called Open Play.
Dave explained that Open Play at this facility required advance registration and a fifteen dollar session fee, information which was available on the website directly beneath the words Open Play in a font Gary later described as “legally present.” He then cited sections 4.2 and 4.2(b) of the facility’s open play policy, which he had laminated separately from the main document for ease of reference in the field.
Gary, whose wife described his life philosophy as “just see what happens,” looked at Dave’s laminated section 4.2(b).
“Could I pay now?” Gary said. “I have cash.”
Dave considered this.
Dave made a note on the clipboard.
“The registration has to be completed online,” said Dave, “prior to arrival.”
Gary looked at the court. Six people were playing pickleball. There was room for two more. One of them had just sat down. The session had twenty minutes left.
“I could pay online right now,” said Gary, holding up his phone. “It would take about thirty seconds.”
Dave noted that the window for same-session registration had closed at the time the session commenced, per section 4.2, and that Gary was welcome to register for a future session at his earliest convenience.
Gary registered his feelings on this policy nonverbally.
He unlaced his left court shoe. Put his street shoes back on. Picked up his paddle — still bearing its price tag — nodded at Dave in the manner of a man exercising considerable restraint, and walked back through the door he had entered four minutes earlier with a completely different facial expression.
He sat in his car for nine minutes.
He called his wife.
He told her that pickleball, the friendliest sport in America, had a registration window.
He cried a little. He told his wife not to tell anyone. His wife told three people.
The facility collected fifteen dollars less than it could have that Tuesday. The sport gained zero new players. Dave’s clipboard remained fully up to date.
Gary has not returned. He has not tried pickleball anywhere else. He has told four people the story of the shoe. Three of them have also not tried pickleball.
The fourth bought a paddle. He has not yet registered for a session. He is still reading the website, looking for the font.
At publishing time Dave had submitted a formal proposal to reduce the same-session registration window from closed to also closed, with an additional requirement that prospective players provide forty-eight hours notice of intended attendance.
Carol had not responded.
Dave had followed up twice.
The facility’s five-star Google review average had dropped to four point one. Dave had responded to each one-star review individually, citing the relevant policy section.