Pictured are members of a Monday, Wednesday and Friday game that has been playing regularly for about 30 years. Top row, from left, is Van Grant, 84; George Smith, 76; Bob Wells, 78; and Alan Sanders, 86. Bottom row, from left, is Doug McKay, 74, Ted Eubanks, 74, and Rick Ostrander, 65.

Their serves may not carry the same velocity as Novak Djokovic’s, and none of their backhands come close to resembling Stefan Edberg’s, but some of the on-the-court bickering of a Lawrence morning tennis group could make a guy like John McEnroe proud.

“Geezer tennis” is the nickname George Smith, 76, says he uses when talking about his regular game with friends. For about 30 years, a group of about 10 or so, mostly retirees, have been meeting for doubles matches at the Lawrence High School tennis courts on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Even when the ball isn’t quite clearing the net, the zingers are always flying.

One Monday in October, Ted Eubanks, 74, sat along the rock wall just adjacent to a doubles match that was heating up on the near court. Uncertainty arose when a ball landed on or near the sideline. Nobody seemed rock solid on what to call, but naturally, one side believed the ball was in while the other wanted to call it out.

“Ted, you gotta watch these lines,” requested Doug McKay, 74. “We don’t need an argument every time.”

“I would if I had two good eyes,” Eubanks cracked.

“There are disputes about every game,” said longtime player Bob Wells, 78, while laughing. “Some of these guys just refuse to buy glasses.”

On another Monday in December, with temperatures in the low 40s and nary a cloud in sight, eight players showed up dressed in fleece, sweats, sock hats and windbreakers. Most agreed that somewhere in the high 30s or low 40s is usually the cutoff these days. McKay said that he remembered playing with Smith when it was 27 degrees.

After about 10 minutes of getting warmed up, Smith took a moment to remove one of his protective layers.

“Uh oh. It looks like George means business,” his teammate Wells remarked to their competitors on the other side.

On the next court over, Eubanks smashed a hard return across the net, catching Mike Pearlman off guard and nearly grazing the 71-year-old. Pearlman, smiling and a bit relieved to have been missed, asked Eubanks if the hit was intentionally directed at him.

“I told him I would only try to hit him if he made some smart-(expletive) remark,” Eubanks said.

Most members of the group are in their early to mid-70s, with a couple of exceptions in Alan Sanders, 86, and Van Grant, 84. The late Bob McEldowney, whom the group credits with organizing their regular game, stopped playing tennis just shy of 90 years old.

To what do they attribute such liveliness in their golden years?

“We are marvels of modern medicine,” Wells said. “Ted’s had five or six bypasses. I’ve got an artificial knee. (Tom Stutz) had his shoulder worked on a hundred times. Rick (Ostrander) seems to be disgustingly healthy. I think he just wears a knee brace to make us feel better.”

Eubanks credits the regular exercise for his own vitality, and he tapped his chest when talking about his bypasses.

“It keeps you going longer than your years,” he said. “I should’ve died five or maybe 10 years ago. This is the reason I think I’m still here. I’m having a blast.”