The Rambling Reporter - August 17, 2026

 Recreation directors probably carry around an idealized version in their heads of a summer evening at the local park. On a recent visit to Keyes Park, I stumbled onto a scene that likely comes pretty close to that vision.

With a few minutes to spare before my nightly Boys & Girls Club pickup, I wandered across the footbridge over the Souhegan. It was nearly 5 o'clock in the evening, and the park was hopping. The pickleball courts were full, there was some sort of cookout going on by the picnic tables, kids were trying out the slides, and teenagers were showing off at the skate park.

The scene was in sharp contrast to the summer of 1976 featured in the Thumbing the Files roundup elsewhere in these pages. Keyes Park was busy then, too, but not always in ways town officials appreciated. In a single week, new lamplights were smashed, pool loudspeakers were ripped from their mountings, and somehow, tennis nets wound up floating in the Souhegan River.

Fifty years later, the pickleball craze seems to have brought new energy to the courts, while Keyes Park itself has found new footing. At least on this particular evening, the park looked a lot like what those who planned it probably had in mind.

All in all, a fitting scene for a fine summer evening.

Pickleball, it seems, has become the Ultimate Frisbee or badminton of the 2020s. As with those sports in the ‘70s and ‘80s, it seems like suddenly everyone and his brother is suddenly out on the pickleball courts.

The Rambling Reporter has tried his hand on the court for the past few years and, despite a name that can be slightly embarrassing to say aloud, has come to appreciate the game's unusual appeal.

Pickleball seems especially well designed to narrow the athletic gap. Sure, there are professional players and even leagues you can watch on YouTube, but in your average two-on-two match at the park, the sport has a certain leveling effect.

Last week, I was paired with an older gentleman and, after a few points, I soon realized he was basically as good as I was. He kept hitting forehand winners down the line and using a spin serve that was giving considerably younger opponents fits. Finally, I turned to him and asked, “Nick, how old are you anyway?”

“Eighty-three,” came the reply.

Such is the curious leveling effect of pickleball.

Milford residents have been keeping score in the Great Empty Storefront Game for years.

A new restaurant sign appears on a marquee and everyone makes plans to check the place out. Brown paper goes up somewhere else, and people begin predicting the downfall of the Oval.

I found myself doing my own informal count during a recent walk downtown. There are a few empty storefronts, and because they are on the Oval, they seem to attract more attention. A vacant unit in a strip mall is a vacant unit. An empty window on the Oval can become a discussion about the economic health and survival of downtown Milford.

There was a time when the Oval had the kind of lineup of businesses you might expect to find in Bedford Falls. There was the required movie theater, a bookstore, an ice cream shop, a record store, a pizza joint and a working gas station. Most of these businesses existed at the same time, something that is difficult to picture now.

The economic world has changed. Walmart and Target are just a drive down 101A and offer (under one roof) most of the things people once went downtown to buy. The modern Oval has adapted. Restaurants, bars, barber shops, antiques, collectibles and boutiques now make up much of downtown — basically things that cannot be found on Amazon or in the big box stores.

On weekend mornings, the breakfast crowd can make the Oval feel downright busy. Sunday's Ice Cream opened last year and Milford celebrated. Sugar Street Buns is preparing to open and there is similar excitement. When the pet store closed, the score went the other way.