the audacity of the bear.

When you first start playing padel, you don’t care.

You’ll play anyone.
Anytime.
Anywhere.

Or at least, I did.

You rock up to random matches, wildly underprepared, just grateful somebody agreed to share a court with you. Your standards are low, your expectations are lower and every successful bandeja feels like a spiritual experience.

But eventually, something shifts.

And nobody really talks about it because it sounds arrogant.
Like ego.
Like you suddenly think you’re too good for certain games.

But honestly, that’s not really it.

You level up.

And when you’ve worked hard to improve at something, protecting that progress becomes emotional.

I’ve grafted for this.
Coaching sessions.
Socials.
Americanos.
Watching videos.
Asking for feedback.
Playing endless matches at stupid o’clock in the morning.

I wanted to get better.

Playtomic ratings get a lot of criticism, but there has to be some kind of system.

The problem is, the system is chaos.

Everyone starts at roughly 0.5.
You win a couple of games and suddenly you shoot upwards.
Then you lose and get absolutely launched back down again.

Me and Cristina used to regularly play with blokes at 6am whose individual levels were higher than us both combined.

We got absolutely obliterated.

Hammered.
Destroyed.
Emotionally rearranged before sunrise.

But we learned loads.

We were becoming much better players, yet somehow our ratings were going down because we kept losing to stronger opposition.

Which creates a weird situation where, in order to improve, you need to play better people…
but to access better people, you need a better rating.

So then what happens?

You end up booking games against beginners to protect or rebuild your level.

And honestly?
I hated it.

Not because there’s anything wrong with beginners, obviously there isn’t. We all start there. But I play quite aggressively and I absolutely love a smash.

And smashing at somebody who has absolutely no chance of returning it feels horrible.

The win feels hollow.
Like congratulations, you’ve bullied Sandra from Accounts at 6am on a Tuesday.
Heroic stuff.

But equally, I’ve paid to be there too.
I should be allowed to play my game.

It’s awkward.

The guy running one of the Intermediate Americanos explained to me recently that for their M3 elite coaching they don’t even use Playtomic ratings.

Apparently there’s a level 4 who only plays and beats the same people repeatedly, while a 1.5 regularly loses to much stronger players despite actually being the same standard.

And honestly… he’s right.

The system is flawed.
But also, what’s the alternative?

I had a goal:
I wanted to become a level 2.

Not because I wanted to brag about it, but because two of my favourite playing partners are 2+ and I wanted access to intermediate coaching and play tournaments with the people I love to play with.

Most coaching is tiered:
0-1 beginners
1-2 improvers
2-3.5 intermediate

I just wanted a chance to test myself without getting completely flattened in matches.

So I hustled.
And eventually…

2.16.

I remember staring at my phone thinking:
oh my god.
I’ve actually done it.

The problem with addiction though is once you get something you desperately wanted…
you become terrified of losing it.

Suddenly I had excuses for everything. I'd do anything to get out of playing a match. What is going on?

I wasn’t trying to improve anymore.
I was trying to protect.

And if I’m being brutally honest, I don’t even think I truly believed I was a “real” level 2 anyway.

Because if I genuinely believed it, I wouldn’t be scared of losing it.
I’d trust myself to win.

That realisation stung a bit.

So I changed approach completely.

I booked onto everything I could that was intermediate:
socials
americanos
league
coaching

Intermediate baby.
We ride at dawn.

Then the coach actually messaged me saying, in a nice way, that I probably belonged in improvers because the intermediate standard was simply too high.

I can’t lie, it hurt a little.

I explained that my friends were all intermediate level and I wanted to challenge myself, so we decided I could have a go. 

Some moments I feel like a level 5.

Every match there’s one unbelievable shot where I briefly believe I’m the greatest athlete Europe has ever produced.

Unfortunately there are also another hundred shots that should probably never be spoken about again.

But I do think higher-level padel requires a different mentality.

A kind of:
I am not losing this point.
I will fight for every ball.
Leave your soul on court Andy Murray energy.

I have flashes of that mentality.
Moments.

At first I could maintain it for one point.
Then a game.
Now maybe even a set if I’m really locked in.

That’s progress too.

Then on Friday, I lost.

A match that, on paper, I probably should have won.

Playtomic absolutely humbled me afterwards.

1.99.

Gone.

After weeks of protecting it, I was no longer a level 2.

Then I lost again this morning.

1.93.

I was gutted after Friday honestly. It genuinely felt like I hadn’t just lost a match, but lost something I’d worked really hard for.

Big Bear received a deeply dramatic post-match podcast voice note about the entire tragedy.

And then, with the audacity only a man obsessed with viboras can possess, he suggested this might actually be a good thing.

Apparently my lower rating means we’ll now get slightly easier matchups in future.

The audacity of the Bear.

I know he’s not wrong.
But please understand I was experiencing a profound sporting loss.

Still, he is right really (annoyingly).

I got what I wanted.
I’m booked onto loads of intermediate sessions.
I’m getting the experience I need.

And if I really want that level 2 back…

I’m going to have to earn it.

Fight for it.

Wish me luck x

Inspired by this Confession - Level Up Hoodie