It’s 6:25 a.m. on Saturday, July 23. I’ve never hated my alarm clock more than I do right now. Snooze button, you’re a lifesaver.

6:30 a.m. Let’s try snooze again.

6:32 a.m. I stare absentmindedly at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. Annoyed, I abandon my efforts and turn on the radio instead. Bruno Mars’ “Lazy Song” comes on. How fitting.

6:36 a.m. More mindless staring and frustrated thoughts. It’s just wrong to wake up this early on a Saturday morning, especially in the summer. Why am I awake again?

Then I remember. I jump out of bed, and excitement rushes through me as I race through my morning routine, suddenly eager to begin my day.

It’s my first day as a ballgirl in the Bank of the West Classic.

Two hours later, I find myself in the ballpersons’ lounge in the basement of the Taube Family Tennis Stadium. I pick up my credentials and change into a rather expensive uniform: a navy blue Essenza insert skirt ($44), a red and blue Fila visor ($15.99), a black and white polyester jacket ($65) and a lime green T-shirt marked with the BotW insignia. Thrilled with the classy attire, I stroll back into the lounge in a cheery mood. Suddenly, something on the back wall catches my eye. My stomach drops.

On the wall, our team assignments have been posted. All of the ballpersons mob around the little paper to check the team, court and captain to which they’ve been assigned for the day. In the back, I stand on my tiptoes and strain to see over the crowd. Am I mistaken? I check once. Twice. Three times. No, I’m not wrong. I have been made captain of Team 6-B.

The rush of adrenaline, originally excitement, now flashes to nervousness. I have never worked as a ballperson for a real match in my life, but now I’m expected to lead an entire team? Why me? Why was I chosen? As if on cue, the ballperson coordinator walks over with a grin and tells me he wants to “try something new.” He proceeds to relay the information necessary for me as captain, but I’m feebly aware of the directions; only with his reassuring pat on the back do I break out of my trance. I stand stunned.

While my incredulity builds, my team assembles in front of me; five young, bright-eyed faces stare eagerly at me, awaiting my orders. Shakily, I put on a smiling facade and go through the motions of my role as a captain; I introduce myself, assign positions, line up the ballpersons and begin the walk up the stairs to our assigned court. Yet with each step, I feel the tension growing in my gut; a parasitic nervousness eats away at my confidence. I am responsible for this team. I am responsible for the flow of the match. If we mess up and break a player’s concentration, we will destroy hours of grueling training and hard work. And it will all be my fault. With these thoughts in mind, the walk up the steps feels like a trudge to the gallows.

At the top of the staircase, I instinctively close my eyes as if flinching away from a fatal blow. With my eyes still closed, I take a deep breath and step into the sunlight. And then something weird happens. The animated tennis environment envelops me, embraces me. I hear the squeak of rubber soles on the plexipave acrylic surface; I smell the chemical scent of newly opened ball cans; I feel the powerful vibrations of tennis balls against strings. I’m home. Tennis is my life, and the court is my haven, a blanket of familiarity. Slowly, the overwhelming weight on my shoulders is lifted. I smile at my team members, and they flash their goofy grins back at me. We have a job to do, and we’re ready to do it.

It was a fantastic experience. I was so proud of my team: they were alert, quick when necessary, yet motionless when not. Sure, we all made some mistakes, but overall, we successfully allowed the match to flow without interruption. We proceeded to work three more 25-minute shifts, and before we knew it, 2 p.m. had arrived. With the conclusion of my session, I reflected on my day. In my panic, I had forgotten the enthusiasm I had for my job as a ballgirl and the exhilaration of working with the top tennis players in the world. My geeky love for tennis reminded me to keep a positive outlook on life; because of it, I enjoyed an incredible day filled with strong teamwork, unwavering dedication and fantastic memories.

And I couldn’t wait to wake up at 6:30 the next morning to do it all over again.

Contact Angel Wang at angelwang94 “at” gmail.com.