Tennis Loyalists Protest Pickleball Takeover of Empty Courts

On a cloudy Saturday morning, a dozen tennis players gathered near the chain-link fence of their local park. The courts behind them, freshly striped for pickleball, hummed with the sharp pop-pop-pop of a dozen matches.

For many, it wasn’t the sound that hurt most. It was the sight. Four miniature courts, each buzzing with players, had replaced two full-sized tennis courts that once sat mostly empty. “It’s not about how often we used them,” one man in a faded U.S. Open cap insisted. “It’s about the principle.”

The irony hung in the air, almost as heavy as the damp smell of early spring. For years, the tennis courts had been quiet enough to host the occasional dog walker or rollerblader. Balls rarely echoed off the backboards. Nets sagged. Yet now, with pickleball’s surge, those spaces were suddenly valuable again—at least as a point of contention.

Some spoke of tradition, invoking the graceful arc of a serve or the satisfying thwack of a well-placed volley. Others leaned on nostalgia, remembering the courts as social hubs in decades past. But when asked how often they played, the answers wavered. “More before,” one admitted. “Before they took them.”

Have you ever noticed how scarcity feels sharper when someone else is enjoying what you ignored? It’s hard to let go, even of something you didn’t fully claim.

The local parks department defends the shift, pointing to surging pickleball demand and declining tennis participation. “We’re meeting the needs of the community,” the recreation director said, watching as teenagers, retirees, and young parents rotated through the new setup.

Still, tennis loyalists vow to keep pushing back. Some have petitioned for dedicated “tennis-only” hours. Others plan to stage rallies, complete with banners and vintage wooden rackets. Whether these efforts are about saving a sport or salvaging a sense of ownership remains unclear.

By noon, the protesters had thinned out. A few lingered at the fence, watching as the pickleball games rolled on, the sound carrying across the park. In the distance, an unused tennis court at another park sat quietly in the sun, waiting for someone to notice.