Our Story

My brother and I will never forget the first pickleball tournament we played in. Not because of the devastating loss we suffered in the quarterfinals, but because of the astounding display of humanity we witnessed that day.

On Court 12 at the Summer Lovin’ Annual, two hefty guys with even heftier beards, and biker bandanas were whooping with joy after a rally. 

These dudes looked like they belonged in a cage match, but we were watching them prance around the pickleball court, celebrating with the spectators like Santa had just appeared with every present they'd ever written on a Christmas list.

While the wrestler guys basked in the glory of that point, I looked over to the court next to it: 

A spunky grandma slammed a ball and wheezed with laughter after ending the point. She and her partner danced together in matching tutus. The teen boys across from them sulked, humiliated by their elders.

Later in the day, we witnessed other unforgettable moments:
A grown man stepped onto the court in a kilt. 

One lady was decked out in American-flag everything, from her high-socks to her tank top.

A college kid whiffed an overhead, and his family sitting behind the fence erupted with laughter.

The sound of pickleballs and dance music filled the air all day long.

We’ve since learned that this is the norm in the playful world of pickleball.

So let loose. Wear the high socks and the short shorts, if that’s your thing. Show us your little dance. Because while everyone else is taking life too seriously, two guys in Florida are unapologetically dancing and chest-bumping for ripping a shot into their buddy’s stomach.

We might be doing the same thing right now.

Erne Bros 👨🏼‍🍳👨🏾‍🍳