What do you mean the electrics quote is now at £80k?
There’s a very particular kind of silence that follows a sentence like that. Not the peaceful kind. More the hollow, slightly echoey variety where you wonder how on earth you’ve ended up here, with our project manager Justin waiting patiently on the other end of the phone.
I sigh, scroll through the email, and then scroll again. As if, through sheer persistence, the numbers might politely rearrange themselves into something more palatable. They don’t. They remain stubbornly, unapologetically expensive.
It’s early April. In less than eight weeks, we’re going to be hosting the launch party for London’s first indoor pickleball facility. Eight weeks sounds like a decent chunk of time when you say it quickly. It sounds less reassuring when you’re standing in a semi-renovated building with exposed wiring and an unfinished roof.
Jonathan, my long-time business partner, has approached the entire project with the same energy that Jeremy Clarkson brought to opening his pub in Clarkson’s Farm. Big vision, great enthusiasm, and a healthy disregard for minor inconveniences like budgets, timelines, or the laws of physics. It’s admirable, really. Also slightly terrifying.
Given he makes up 50% of our “dream team,” it has, by default, fallen to me to handle the small matter of turning an empty unit into a fully functioning sports venue. Logistics, contractors, budgets, spreadsheets and more. You can think of it as the glamorous side of entrepreneurship.
“Love the idea bro.”
That’s Tom. Every business needs a Tom. Ours just happens to be a marketing, social media, and content wizard who can turn even our most chaotic moments into something vaguely aspirational. His response comes after I float the idea of starting a blog to document the build.
His reasoning is twofold. Firstly, it’s good content. Secondly, (and perhaps more importantly?) it might serve as a form of free therapy for me to vent my increasingly specific frustrations about insulation, forklifts, and electrical sub-units.
So here we are.
Let’s start with the positives.
On the alcohol front (arguably critical), our licence is pending and should be approved within the next couple of weeks. We’ve partnered with Harvey and Co from PrimeTime, who not only know what they’re doing but also happen to supply fantastic products that people actually want to drink. A strong start.
Then there’s the broader ecosystem we’re moving into. The unit sits on a business estate that is quietly assembling what can only be described as a wellness-meets-fitness Avengers lineup. Next door, there’s a sauna and cold plunge setup in the works, which we feel will slot in incredibly well post-pickleball action. On the other side of our unit, a Pilates studio has been approved. A couple of doors down is a climbing hangar, arguably the least in sync with us, but at the same time, bringing a great vibe.
By the end of the summer, when everyone in the estate is fully operational, it should feel less like an industrial estate and more like a community hub. Which is exactly what we want to be part of.
We also got through in the post a really cool part of the welcome goody bag, which will be for Founder’s Members - a miniature Aston Martin Vantage in our club green colourway. We’ve worked with the team at Aston Martin for several years now and it’s great to be able to carry this partnership forward with our new ventures.
“We’ll be done by mid-April.”
This is the phrase currently being used in relation to the roof insulation. “Mid-April” is, I’m learning, a wonderfully flexible concept. It can mean anything from this Friday to “in two weeks, probably.” The work itself is non-negotiable. You can’t really cut corners on a roof, so it is what it is.
Electrics, of course, come next. Assuming we can collectively agree on a number that doesn’t require selling a kidney. The current quote includes a variety of necessary components and a selection of “nice-to-haves” that we are now reclassifying as “definitely-not-needed-right-now.”
Also, a quick note on forklifts. I had, until recently, never given forklifts much thought. They existed, they lifted things, and that was about the extent of my interest. I can now tell you that they cost approximately £300 a day to hire, which feels like an excessive amount of money for something that essentially just goes up and down.
Still, much like the roof, electrics fall firmly into the “do it properly or regret it forever” category. So we’ll make it work.
The good news is that once the roof and electrics are in place, the heavy lifting (both literal and metaphorical) is largely done. The flooring team is ready to go, and within a week, we should have five tournament-grade acrylic courts installed and playable. That’s the moment it starts to feel real.
From there, it’s minor installation works for the cafe and bathrooms, along with cosmetic touches.
“There’s an error on the app.”
This time it’s Luca on the phone, calmly informing me that a small but significant glitch is preventing some users from booking sessions. Jonathan joins the call from one of his many phones (I’ve stopped asking questions at this point), and we collectively acknowledge that in the modern world, if people can’t click a button and give you money, you have a problem.
Fortunately, Luca is exceptionally good at what he does. When he says he’ll fix it, I believe him. Which is helpful, because my stress allocation for the day is already fully booked.
And that, in a slightly chaotic nutshell, is where I’ll finish the first written note.
Via a mix of paperwork, groundwork, front-of-house action, and everything in between, the project is just starting to kick into gear. It’s crazy to think it’s almost nine months since we first viewed the site, but the main action is only now beginning. Come with us and join the journey.
It might not be perfectly smooth, and it definitely won’t be boring, but ultimately we’re building something we genuinely believe in.