Saturday June 6, 2026
8:00-9:00am (PDT)

All Jamboree troops are cordially invited to our next Saturday Squadron Breakfast Call.

If you’re outside the program, you’re welcome to join with a $10 donation to your local food bank or North Shore Community Hub. Reply with a screenshot of your receipt to access the Zoom link.

For anyone who missed our conversation with Javier Regalado, we’ve posted the full discussion.

THE CONVERSATION

Our goal with this Saturday’s Breakfast Zoom Call is to synthesize a perspective on what actually happens socially, emotionally, and culturally in the moments after somebody gets hit in pickleball.

We’ll chat with the Jamboree’s Director of Practice Culture Mariko Wakefield and Jamboree legend Dr. Trudy Adam about what happens in those seconds, minutes, days, and weeks after we get hit.

The apology. The self-blame. The laugh. The reassurance. The “my bad.” The “all good.” The strange little performance everybody suddenly understands they are part of.

When someone gets hit, the brain reaches for a shortcut. Someone must be wrong. Someone must be protected. Someone must apologize. Someone must accept the apology. Often this acknowledgement begins before the apology itself even happens. In some ways, this ritual is functional. It keeps games moving. It preserves emotional equilibrium. It allows adults to continue competing in close physical proximity without everything spiralling into conflict.

As coaches, we are interested in coaching "the moment” itself — but we've begun to observe the social ritual around it too. And how that can change performance in competition. 

What are people actually communicating in those few seconds?

In pickleball, players often blame themselves after getting hit — not necessarily because they truly believe they were at fault, but because they are attempting to signal belonging.

I can handle this level.

I understand the risk.

Don’t dumb your game down for me.

If I ask you to take it easy on me, maybe I’m revealing I don’t belong here.

Sometimes this culture of personal responsibility feels like one of the most beautiful parts of pickleball. Other times, as a coach and organizer, it leaves me feeling slightly ill.

At what point does adaptive toughness become coerced emotional conformity?

How do we create environments where players can acknowledge "danger," competitiveness, and emotional complexity without shame rituals or performative toughness?

Pickleball is uniquely vulnerable to this dynamic because it sits at the intersection of close physical proximity, mixed skill levels, adult learners with strong emotional memory, and a culture still borrowing etiquette from “friendly rec play” even as the sport becomes increasingly competitive.

Competition contains aggression. Targeting exists. Pressure exists. Fear exists. Competitive identity exists. Pickleball Jamboree was specifically created to help players create and adapt to these different levels of pressure. 

Paying attention to what they do, the facial reactions they have, the split-second expressions, the tone, the body language, and the intentions underneath it all. Naturally, I’ve realized pickleball is no different. Because a body shot is never just a body shot. Sometimes it’s strategy. Sometimes it’s panic. Sometimes it’s competitiveness. Sometimes it’s vengeance for a questionable line call three games earlier.

I spend a lot of time trying to figure out what people are really thinking, feeling, and communicating.

—Dr. Trudy Adam.

We want to understand how the thoughtful players in our Jamboree community are processing these questions.

What are players actually trying to "protect" in those three seconds after somebody gets hit?

And how do we keep ourselves safe — including protective eyewear and refined tracking?

“Let’s talk about the hidden psychology of pickleball — the messages behind body shots, the micro-reactions after speed-ups, the famous ‘sorry-not-sorry’ paddle wave, and why some people can get drilled at 90 miles an hour and laugh… while others immediately begin emotionally drafting a legal affidavit.”

Pour a coffee. Bring your questions.

Have a specific question or story for Mariko or Dr. Trudy? Hit reply and share it.

Keep reading