Watching the tennis…
…from Wimbledon. It’s one of the great moments in the British sporting calendar (hang on a moment. Match point against Federer requires concentration – okay, it’s back to deuce!) especially as our Andy Murray is through to the quarter finals. No British male has won Wimbledon since the days of Fred Perry, and even I don’t remember him!
Second match point coming up. Wow! he’s done it! Federer is out. That’s amazing! And I don’t even know the other fellow’s name.
Our British sport hasn’t been up to much this summer. The media hype over the football world cup had to be seen to be believed, and then we bowed out with ignominy almost as soon as we’d got to South Africa.
Justin Rose won the Memorial golf tournament in America, then led for the first three rounds of the Traveler’s, only to lose it in the final round and finish ninth.
Oh well. It’s playing the game that counts, isn’t it? And someone has to be down there propping up the winners. It’s just not such a comfortable place to be, but it may be character-building. Or not.
What do you think?