Paddle Weight Guide: What I Wish Someone Had Told Me First

I bought my first paddle based on what looked cool. It was this sleek black thing that felt solid in my hand at the store.

Three months later, my elbow was killing me and I couldn't figure out why. Turns out I'd been swinging around an 8.5-ounce monster when I should have started with something way lighter.

Who knew two ounces could make such a difference?

How I Picked the Wrong Weight (And Paid for It)

The paddle looked professional. Heavy meant quality, right? That's what I figured anyway.

The sales guy at the store didn't ask about my experience level or anything. Just let me swing a few paddles and I picked the one that felt most substantial.

Big mistake.

The Tennis Player's Trap

I used to play tennis. Not great, but I could hit the ball. Tennis rackets are heavy, so I thought pickleball paddles should be too.

Wrong logic completely.

In tennis, you want weight for power through long swings. In pickleball, half your shots are delicate little touches at the net. Try doing that with a sledgehammer.

My dinks were disasters. Every touch shot flew way too hard. I couldn't control anything close to the net.

Bob, this older guy I play with sometimes, kept telling me to lighten up on my shots. I thought he meant mentally. Turns out he meant literally.

When My Elbow Started Screaming

About two months in, I started getting this weird pain in my right elbow. Not during play, but afterwards. And in the mornings.

I figured it was just part of learning a new sport. Your body adjusts, right?

Then it got worse. Sharp pain when I'd reach for coffee cups. Couldn't even shake hands properly without wincing.

My wife made me see our family doctor. He took one look at me and said "tennis elbow." Asked if I'd been playing tennis.

When I told him pickleball, he laughed. Said he's been seeing it more and more. Usually from people using equipment that's too heavy for them.

Learning About Weight Ranges the Hard Way

After the doctor visit, I started researching paddle weights like my life depended on it.

Turns out there's actually science behind this stuff. Who knew?

Light Paddles (Under 7.5 oz)

I borrowed Linda's paddle for a few games. She's been playing for years and swears by light paddles.

It felt like a toy at first. I kept over-swinging because I expected more resistance.

But after about 30 minutes, something clicked. My dinks got softer. I could place shots instead of just blasting them. The control was incredible.

The downside? Power shots felt weak. When I needed to drive the ball hard from the baseline, it just didn't have the same oomph.

Linda said that's why she hits so many placement shots instead of power shots. Makes sense.

Heavy Paddles (Over 8.0 oz)

My original paddle was 8.4 ounces. Felt like swinging a brick after trying Linda's light one.

But I'll admit, when you connect with a power shot using a heavy paddle, the ball flies. Really flies.

Problem is, you sacrifice everything else. Touch shots become impossible. Your arm gets tired faster. And if your timing is off even slightly, the heavy paddle makes it worse.

I met this guy Tom who plays with an 8.8-ounce paddle. He's built like a linebacker and has perfect technique. For him, it works. For regular humans like me? Not so much.

The Sweet Spot Zone (7.5-8.0 oz)

After trying about six different paddles, I finally found my range. Right around 7.8 ounces.

Heavy enough that I can still hit decent power shots. Light enough that my elbow doesn't hate me.

It's not perfect for anything, but it's good enough for everything. Which is exactly what I needed as someone still learning.

My current paddle is 7.7 ounces and honestly, I forget about the weight completely during games. That's probably the best sign that it's right.

Weight vs. Your Playing Style

Here's what I wish someone had explained to me upfront: paddle weight should match how you actually play, not how you think you want to play.

If You're a Net Player

Janet lives at the net. She's always up there, dinking and volleying. Her paddle weighs maybe 7.2 ounces.

Makes perfect sense. She needs quick reactions and soft touch. A heavy paddle would kill her game.

I tried playing her style with my heavy paddle once. Disaster. I couldn't react fast enough to her shots, and every time I touched the ball it flew over the baseline.

If you find yourself at the net a lot, go lighter. Your touch shots will thank you.

If You're a Baseline Banger

Mike stays back and hammers everything. His paddle is probably close to 8.5 ounces.

He hits hard, accurate shots from the back court. Rarely comes to the net unless he has to.

The weight works for him because he's basically playing power tennis with a smaller court. Long, full swings with plenty of time to set up.

But even Mike admits his soft game suffers. When he's forced to dink, it's pretty ugly.

If You're Still Figuring It Out

Most of us fall into this category. We're trying to learn all aspects of the game without committing to one style.

Middle weight is your friend. Around 7.6 to 7.9 ounces gives you options.

You can hit decent power shots when you need to. You can work on touch shots without fighting your equipment. And your arm won't fall off after two hours of play.

As you develop your style over time, you can always go lighter or heavier. But starting in the middle gives you room to figure out what works.