THE RECOVERY SERIES #2: THE PADDLE TAP

A blog by Brendon Booth, Fair Dinkin Pickleball Academy

I’m writing this from the couch. Sinus surgery. I look like I’ve been lightly sat on by something large.

But here’s what happens when you take a coach off the court and leave them alone with their thoughts for a few days: they develop opinions. Strong ones. And right now, I have a strong opinion about the paddle tap.

Specifically, about a post I saw recently suggesting that players who regularly tap paddles with their partner – after points, between points, as a general vibe – are signalling aggression. That it intimidates opponents. That it’s a competitive dominance move.

With the greatest respect: no.

What a paddle tap actually is

The paddle tap is the most human thing we do on a pickleball court.

It’s not a celebration of a great shot. It’s not a dig at a poor one. It’s a check-in. It says: I see you. Whatever just happened, I’m still here, we’re still in this. You tap after a winner. You tap after your partner goes for an ATP and ends up in the neighbouring court. You tap after the point where everything went wrong and you both know it.

That’s not aggression. That’s presence. And presence, it turns out, is most of what makes a good doubles partner.

When you play with someone who stays connected – who acknowledges, who doesn’t go quiet and stare at their feet when things go sideways – you play differently. You’re looser. You take shots you’d otherwise talk yourself out of. You recover faster, not just physically but mentally. You stop trying to compensate for imaginary tension and start actually playing.

The paddle tap is a physical commitment: we’re in this together, regardless of outcome.

That’s not a small thing. That’s the whole game.

Now, about the missing

I should be honest here.

Sometimes you go for the tap and it doesn’t connect. Your timing is slightly off, your partner reaches at the wrong moment, and you both swipe at empty air.

And here’s where it gets very me: I cannot leave that hanging. I will abandon whatever thought I had about the next point, track my partner down, and complete the tap. It has to happen. The point is done, the score has moved on, and I am still here, focused entirely on finishing a paddle tap that nobody else remembers.

If you have ADHD – and I’m not saying I do, but I’m also not not saying that – this will resonate deeply.

But you know what? I think that’s exactly right. Because the tap matters. The acknowledgment matters. You don’t just leave your partner hanging because the moment got a bit awkward. You go back, you finish it, and then you both laugh about it for the next three points.

That’s not a distraction. That’s commitment.

Recovery is usually smaller than you think

I decided to call these pieces the Recovery Series because I’m literally recovering from surgery right now, and the timing seemed apt. But the more I sit here thinking about it, the more I reckon recovery in pickleball is almost never the dramatic comeback. It’s not the improbable match save or the perfect reset after fifteen dinks.

Most of the time, recovery is just the tap.

It’s the moment between points where you and your partner choose to stay connected instead of retreating into your own heads. It’s the reset that doesn’t require any skill at all – just the decision to acknowledge the person standing next to you.

Pickleball gives us these tiny rituals. The tap-in before a game. The walk-off chat afterwards. The “yours!”/“I’ve got it!” overlap that somehow always happens at the worst possible time. They’re not nothing. They’re the connective tissue of the whole thing.

And the courts that feel the best to play on – the groups that keep people coming back – they’re not always the ones with the best players. They’re the ones where people still tap paddles, still show up for each other, still find the miss funnier than the point.

So if someone tells you that’s a competitive flex, smile, nod, and go find yourself a partner who taps back.

Recovery is small. Recovery is consistent. Recovery is mostly just choosing, again and again, to be present.

Also, work on your timing. Apparently.

Boothy

Brendon Booth is the founder of Fair Dinkin Pickleball Academy, coaching across Bendigo, Castlemaine, and the Loddon Mallee region. He coaches because he loves it, plays because he can’t help it, and writes because his opinions need a place to escape.