You know you are addicted if:
 
You have postponed hip replacement, knee surgery, and a by-pass surgery so you wouldn't miss a Pickleball game.
 
You consider warming up before playing Pickleball is a waste of good court time.
 
You can no longer read the label on the face of your paddle.
 
You wardrobe consists totally of t-shirts and gym shorts.
 
Your collection of paddles has taken over a closet in your house.
 
You strap on two knee braces, two elbow braces, a back brace and "yell I'm warmed up, who wants to play?"
 
You have so many medals stored in a drawer, your spouse has suggested you take them to a scrap dealer.
You actually named your dog, Pickles.  Your website is www.gottaplaypickleball.com. 
 
Your vanity plates read "Pickler".
 
Someone yelled "dink" and you didn't look down to see if your fly was undone.
 
You know Canada has only one season, Pickleball.
 
You drove 30 minutes in a blizzard, white knuckled all the way, to get to the centre to play with 3 other addicts and enjoyed every minute.
 
Your only reason for going to Shoppers Drug Mart is to buy a bottle of Aleve and an elbow brace.
 
You know that 2-4-1 is the score of a game and not an ad for Safeway or a pizza place.
 
You missed the last game of the Stanley Cup finals to play Pickleball.
 
You have a Pickleball embedded on the aerial of your car.