When JOOLA and the PPA partnered to launch and promote the 2025 PPA Challenger Series, the idea for a companion content series was born.

How could we truly capture the essence of the tour? How could we highlight the stories of aspiring pros and the vibrant local communities that host each stop?

The solution: full immersion. We sent two pickleball novices and one pro to experience the Challenger Series firsthand—both behind the scenes and in front of the camera—to offer fresh, dynamic perspectives on the action, atmosphere, and culture of select tour stops.

What we found wasn’t what we expected—and that made it even more exciting to document and share.

After you watch, as a bonus, Corey, Isang, and Josh will be sharing their takes on everything Challenger, Portland.

Corey, Editorial Strategy Manager, DUPR: 0

Full disclosure: I’d never been to a professional pickleball event before. Not even an amateur one. Honestly, not even recreationally. So, when the opportunity to cover the PPA Challenger Series came up, it felt like a chance to finally dive into the pickleball world and see what all the buzz was about. Why were people coming from across the globe to play pickleball in a converted grocery store in Maine?

Before landing in the upper Northeast, I wasn’t quite sure what I’d find—or what this project would even become. The assignment was both simple and complex: capture the spirit of the Challenger Series and tell the stories of real people chasing their dreams. Oh, and put myself in the middle of it all.

As things started to come into focus, I realized Portland was for the pickleball obsessed—the families, the supporters, and the tight-knit pickleball community in Westbrook, Maine. 

And then the rhythm began—serve, hit, rush, dink, reset, smash... repeat. Upon first entering the Picklr the sounds of the ball popping off the paddle was inescapable, but over time it started to become white noise.

Outside of pickleball, there really wasn’t much going on. It was surprising to see the level of focus with each player we met. Their pasts were almost identical, former tennis players, now pickleball hopefuls with sparse interests outside of the game itself. 

I’d say 90% of the players we chatted with mentioned they had to get a lobster roll, one player mentioned getting crab, but I think that was an honest mistake. So, we ventured off to try one on day two, and I wasn’t disappointed, just underwhelmed, too much mayonnaise for my liking.

Back to the competition, it felt fierce, and there were visible skill gaps between 3.0 play and pro play. But to the naked, untrained eye, it was hard to understand the technical differences in aspiring-pro A vs. aspiring-pro B. To me it felt like survival of the fittest, who wanted it more, who had more endurance and who could stay mentally-focused for three straight days. And that dance played out every day.

So many of the spectators were either family and friends of the local players or little pods of aspiring-pros who talked, ate and trained together through the entire weekend.

Inside the Picklr, someone joked it felt like a casino. No one knew what time it was, but no one cared. 

We left the Picklr on a Sunday and the sun had finally returned. As we drove past the water on our way to lunch in downtown Portland, we joked about what we’d just experienced, no clue if what we had captured could be made in to a coherent narrative, but that was a problem for our editor. 

For two zeroes and a pro it was mission accomplished, we came, we saw, we asked a ton of questions, shot multiple hours of footage (most of which I used to highlighted the ceiling of the Picklr), and we became part of the story. 

While I still don’t understand why someone would give it all up to play pickleball in Portland, Maine, I guess I’m destined to find out at tour stop two. Coming soon.