03/27/2026
People will come, y’all… people will come.
They’ll come to ATP for reasons they can’t even fathom.
They’ll turn down Thurman Tanner to Flowery Branch, not even knowing why they’re doing it.
They’ll arrive at Around The Pickle as innocent as children… longing for something they can’t quite name.
“Of course, we won’t mind if you look around,” we’ll say.
“It’s only twenty-five dollars per person to drop in.”
They’ll hand over the money without even thinking about it…
because it’s money they have—
and something like this… they don’t.
And they’ll walk out to the courts…
and d**k in shirt sleeves on a perfect afternoon.
They’ll realize they’ve reserved a clinic on Court 17—
the same court where they won their last league match with a smash on game point.
They’ll get better.
They’ll sign up for the next Moneyball.
And it’ll feel like they’ve dipped themselves in something magic.
The memories will be so thick…
they’ll have to brush them away from their faces.
The one constant through all the years, y’all…
will be pickleball.
North Georgia has rolled by like an army of steamrollers.
It’s been erased, rebuilt, and built up again.
But ATP…
will be where people come to share the time—
and make the memories.
This place… this game…
it’ll be part of our lives.
It reminds us of what once was good…
and what can be again.
Ohhh, people will come, y’all.
People will most definitely come.
