Lucky Now officially found out it had a pickleball league on Tuesday.
The league, according to multiple laminated sources, starts next week.
This timing was important, because nearly everyone involved was already behind.
The first sign appeared on Fern’s door sometime overnight. She was fairly certain she hadn’t put it there, mostly because she did not remember laminating anything while sober.
It read:
PICKLEBALL LEAGUE
STARTS NEXT WEEK
TEAMS FINALIZED
PLEASE BE SOBER-ISH
Fern stared at it for a long time.
She did not remember signing up.
She did remember THC hot chocolate night, which had previously explained a missing scarf, three group texts, and an entire conversation she never had — so the pickleball part felt… possible.
By mid-morning, the town began to realize something had happened.
Nugs was the second to find out, mostly because someone asked him if he was “still good to be team captain.”
“I don’t play pickleball,” Nugs said confidently.
They showed him a photo of himself holding two paddles and giving a thumbs-up.
“Well,” he said, studying it. “That version of me looks optimistic.”
The community centre phone rang all day.
“Hi, I’m just calling to see if I signed up?”
“Yes.”
“…For pickleball?”
“Yes.”
“…On purpose?”
That depended on who answered the phone.
Some people clearly remembered signing up.
Others remembered talking about signing up.
Several were sure they had only agreed to “support the league emotionally” and were now listed as alternates.
One man insisted he signed up for pickling, not pickleball, and wanted to know when the jars were arriving.
Glady reviewed the roster and immediately frowned at it.
“This is irresponsible,” she said, pointing at three names written in different handwriting.
“Sports should not be organized after 8 p.m.”
The mayor attempted to reassure everyone with a short motivational speech.
It was neither short nor motivational.
“At its core,” he said, holding a coffee he forgot to drink, “pickleball is about showing up, trying your best, and understanding that many of you will not remember why you agreed to this.”
Several people nodded.
Someone asked how long the games were.
Someone else asked what the score went to.
Another person asked if the ball was supposed to sound like that or if something was wrong with it.
A surprising number of people had already started “training,” which mostly involved stretching next to fences and explaining their strategy to strangers.
By the end of the week, Lucky Now had learned several important things:
• Next week was coming faster than expected
• THC improves confidence but not scheduling
• Many residents are “competitive” in theory only
• Forgetting you signed up does not remove your name from a laminated list
The pickleball league starts next week.
Probably.
Assuming no one accidentally signs up for bowling before then.
Lucky Now is preparing the only way it knows how.
By not preparing at all.
