In a story that underscores the clash between modern trends and traditional living, a Massachusetts homeowner’s battle against the relentless noise from nearby pickleball courts has left her unable to sell her $1 million Cape Cod home for over eight months. What began as a quiet life by the bay has turned into an ongoing struggle against a noisy neighbor that threatens her peace—and her property value.

Judith Ann Roan Comeau, who owns a picturesque home in Sagamore Beach, listed her three-bedroom, three-bathroom property expecting a quick sale. With stunning views of the bay, beautiful gardens, and a close proximity to the beach, Comeau anticipated the home would sell within 30 days. But now, more than half a year later, her once-promising listing remains unsold. The culprit? A series of pickleball courts installed just 30 feet from her property line by the Sagamore Beach Colony Club, a private tennis club that has been a fixture in the community for over 100 years.

According to Comeau, these courts were “snuck in during COVID,” turning her once peaceful retreat into a battleground of noise. Pickleball, a sport that has rapidly gained popularity across the country, has also brought with it a distinct and constant sound—one that Comeau claims is scaring off potential buyers. Despite over 60 viewings, including several second looks, the constant noise from the courts has driven away every prospective buyer.

“Each time, no matter what time it is, someone is playing PICKLEBALL,” Comeau lamented on Facebook, expressing her frustration in the “Pickleball Noise Relief” group, a community dedicated to those affected by the sport’s intrusive noise. Despite her requests for the club to use quieter balls and paddles, and to limit the hours of play, Comeau’s pleas have fallen on deaf ears. The club, she says, has only expanded its pickleball offerings, adding another court and allowing up to 16 people to play at once.

The irony isn’t lost on Comeau, who says she never had any issues with the tennis courts previously located on the same site. “Not once have we ever complained about tennis,” she noted, adding that she even looked out for the courts, ensuring kids didn’t damage them at night. But the explosive growth of pickleball has brought a new kind of noise—one that she describes as “insidious” and unbearable.

Comeau’s attempts to fight back have been met with resistance from both the club and fellow players. When she tries to drown out the noise with music, players complain, knocking on her door or sending emails demanding she lower the volume so they can enjoy their tournaments. “Imagine being that entitled not to care what your neighbors are dealing with,” she said, clearly frustrated by what she sees as a lack of consideration.

The noise level on Comeau’s deck has reached the high 70s to low 80s in decibels—a range comparable to a vacuum cleaner or busy traffic. “It’s really insidious, this noise that people are enduring now so close to their homes,” said Rob Mastroianni, founder of the “Pickleball Noise Relief” group, highlighting the growing issue nationwide as pickleball courts pop up in residential areas.

In a bid to restore her peace and finally sell her home, Comeau has enlisted the help of a real estate lawyer, who is urging the club to move the courts. “With the rise of pickleball, we’re also seeing a rise in more complaints,” said attorney Jonathan Polloni, who is advocating for Comeau and other affected residents.

For Comeau, the fight is about more than just selling her home—it’s about reclaiming the quiet enjoyment of her property. “I hope that it can just be ended,” she said, longing for the day when she can put her house back on the market and “ride off into the sunset” without the constant clatter of pickleball in the background.