Pickleball gangs developed. I’d often see those Pickleballers slowly exiting their Hybrid Electric Vehicles in their Normcore attire (after they had circled endlessly to find parking where there was no street sweeping). Wispy grey hair peeking out from under their giant brimmed UPF hats from REI, opaque white glistening sunblock slathered on their sunglassed faces, Hoka supportive Pickleball sneakers, pricey carbon fiber weave paddles, tee shirts that read “Day Dinker” and “Pickleball. It’s kind of a big Dill” and enormous, insulated, stainless steel Hydro Flask vessels filled with electrolytes. “Pickleball” is what they play.