Yes, we know what it sounds like.

We're Rod and Daniel. Two mates who play far too much racquet sport and who have absolutely no regrets about the name.

It started the way these things usually do. Turning up for a hit, reaching into the bag, and pulling out three balls with all the bounce of a boiled potato. Bought in a hurry, opened months ago, living under a towel and a spare grip ever since. They look fine. They are not fine. Balls start going soft the moment the seal breaks, and by the fifth session you're playing a slower, sadder version of the game you paid for.

So we sorted it out. MyBalls sends championship-grade balls to your door on a schedule you pick once and then happily forget. Fortnightly if you're on court four times a week. Every three months if you're more of a Sunday hitter. Cheaper than grabbing cans one at a time at the pro shop, free shipping on every subscription order, and nothing to sign.

We started with padel because that's what we play, and because courts have gone up faster than anyone's worked out where to buy decent balls. Tennis and pickleball are next. Send your dead cans back with a prepaid label and we'll recycle the felt and rubber instead of letting them rot in landfill.

Balls don't have to be boring. Ours certainly aren't. And no, we're not changing the name.