“So critically important for Gasquet to hang in here and get a good start,” John McEnroe says. A few seconds later Richard Gasquet drops his first service game of the match. After seven minutes, Novak is 2 – 0 up. Come on Richard!
“It would be huge if Gasquet could sneak out this break here,” Mac says as he gets a break point. And then he does. “That’ll give you a shot of adrenalin,” Mac says. Exciting times.
“The crowd buzzing now to see Gasquet find his way into this early,” Mac says.
“The thing is,” I say to my brother, “Novak is making him move around a lot, and he had that five set match the other day, and he’ll get tired.”
“Um,” brother says, without looking up from his computer. He is typing something. Actual work, I imagine. Brother Plays Tennis himself, rather than just being an Armchair Expert. It is possible that he is not that interested in my opinions on the match, even though I have put many many many hours in, on the sofa, watching. Life is cruel.
Have a phone appointment in twenty eight minutes, at two o’clock. Before then, need to:
1. Have bath and shave legs and underarms.
2. Put washing away.
3. Wash up today’s utensils.
4. Pack bag for visit to parentals.
5. Do Something about nails – they look terrible: short, flaky, naked.
6. Get dressed.
And can’t be bothered to do any of those things. Just want to sit here with brother and to enjoy this match and the next match. This may well be my final Wimbledon. It deserves my full attention.
At the top of the attached photo is my Spirea. It’s called “Joseph’s Coat” – presumably due to its many colours – it is different pinks and white. There was a butterfly on there this morning. He didn’t stop for long but think he is a Small Heath:
And a Typhoon fighter jet flew past, roaring, on his way to the Battle Of Britain commemorative fly past event. And saw a parakeet. So it has been a busy day in the sky.
Seb is at his Mum’s house. Miss him.
Happy Friday everyone!
*1978. By H.R.F. Keating. Science fiction novel.
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 