Practice, despite the age-old sports adage, does not make perfect. It does make permanent.

Long after practice has concluded, a lone member of the Interlake tennis team remains on the court.

She says she is there for extra practice; I had surmised that much on my own.

She tells me that her game is not progressing at the rate she had hoped for, so she’s putting in a little extra work trying to get it right.

The young lady stands alone in a far corner of the chain-link fenced tennis courts, volleying the ball to herself off the wooden wall on the east side of the enclosure, trying to keep it above the white line in the middle of the otherwise solid green target.

I leave as a light rain, which quickly turns to hail, begins to fall.

She stays.

There is work to be done and there is no way a little frozen precipitation is going to stop her from doing it.

Whether or not she ever gets to state, districts, or even wins a single match, she is already a champ.

We hear constantly about a strong work ethic, dedication to the game and the like. Most of the time, it refers to players who are able to fool us by coasting on talent. People who we imagine must put in the effort when in reality, they are simply better without trying than we are at maximum output.

Not on the Interlake tennis courts.

No coasting here, just a quick glimpse into what dedication and work ethic actually look like.