Archive for the ‘Tennis’ Category

Le mot juste

July 14, 2017 6 comments

Like Sheona, I need help with vocabulary.

Tennis fans yesterday witnessed our hybrid Brit hero(ine), Johanna Konta, beaten comprehensively by the elegant Murican Venus Williams. I wanted to say she gave Jo a ‘master-class’, but our other hero, Andy, would have disapproved on feminist grounds. So what is the right word?


Where’s Ron’s mate Phil Slocombe when you need him?

July 4, 2016 4 comments

You Huns! Accepting defeat with grace ain’t your bag, eh?

Lewis caught up with Nico and passed him on the final circuit but Nico didn’t like it, caused a little prang and kept on driving with a damaged car. The stewards penalised him, not Lewis.

German fans then booed Lewis on the podium.

And today it will be the yellow-clad Aussies’ turn to show decorum on Centre Court when their potty-mouthed hero meets Andy. Will Nick manage it? Cliff-hanging stuff.

New towels, please

July 2, 2016 9 comments

For every match the players at Wimbledon are issued with two towels. These are the property of the All England Club. Post-match the deal is they are returned to the nearest ball boy. Not so. The players walk off court with them. Stealing in plain sight. The used towels are then given to friends, family or auction. You can never be too wealthy.

I’ve written before on the despicable practice of the players towelling off then hurling their sweat-drenched towels to ball boys between every point, passing on all their germs. I’d now like to chastise their manner when “asking” for the towel; they point at it: fetch. The slave children then serve their masters with this greasy piece of fabric.

Why don’t the players ask the child, nicely, to hand them their towel? Do they think our young are stupid? The bright young things are more multi-lingual than their ancestors were at that age. I’m sure they would know a smattering of Serbo-Croat, a slice of Swiss, a chip of Czech, and, naturally, be faultless at French.

Our ball boys are too nice but it would be good if at the end of the contest they employed their linguistic skills to volley abuse at the robbers. Stop złodziej oddać nam nasze ręczniki kurwa.

If you’re sick of my stuff…..

July 2, 2016 15 comments

Write some yourself! summer-flat-cap-grey-prince-of-wales-pop-up-jpg

But it has to be said, there’s so much postable news these days, innit?

With the virtual certainty that our next PM will be a Tory lady, second only to our beloved Maggie, we can look forward to pragmatic gubmint, a phenomenon sadly lacking for many years. (Boris hums, ‘Can’t buy me Gove, yeah; everybody tells me so…’)

Meanwhile the Bremainers are still sulking, talking about second votes, about chaos, about Scotland, Ireland and Gibraltar. (Boris did say, ‘What part of Bleave don’t they understand?.)

But the ever-present Welsh are celebrating with a symbolic win over Brussels Belgium, adding fuel to the flames of the English team’s funeral pyre. Their victory only goes to show: England have sweet FA.

And while I’m here, I should mention that Andy’s best chance this year is if his arch opponent loses the third set today to a Yank. Come on, the special relationship.

Nothing else in today’s news, sorry. Oh yes, it’s a peaky blinder. Stylish, huh?

Get ova yourself

March 9, 2016 15 comments

It’s women’s tennis – a feminist force mustered by Navratilova. There’s now an ova in every final and (the younger) Maria* is their diva. Easy on the eye, persistently histrionic on court, equally successful off the court, she announces her own doping indiscretions, seizing the high pr ground before the authorities have drawn breath. Be sorry for me, I made a mistake (for 10 years!), don’t be harsh.

Serena is closing ranks. Another diva with a unique agenda. Why is she so quick to speak up? Just remember: Big girls don’t cry – they pack a punch.

I don’t expect any comments from the men.

  • to avoid confusion

Only when I laugh

October 4, 2015 27 comments

It’s the pain, doctor.

Where exactly, Janus?

Just here (pointing to heart).

And when do you get it?

Whenever I watch English teams play.

So it’s home-sickness then, the call from home?

No. That’s a sweeter feeling, like hearing I’m to be a grandpa for the 10th time.

Congratulations then! But back to the pain?

Yes. What’s the cure?

Get rid of the sports channels. Watch Danish tv. You’ll feel no emotion whatever and sleep extremely well. That’s the true meaning of ‘hygge’ (pron. hew- ga)!


July 19, 2013 5 comments


One of four penguins that have been named in honour of Andy Murray and the three women in his life. The female Humboldt penguins, who arrived at St Andrews Aquarium in Fife in May, have been named after Andy, his mother Judy, girlfriend Kim and Shirley, his grandmother


Categories: Nature, Photography, Tennis

One for Tina

July 7, 2013 7 comments


Here’s ‘Gorgeous Gussie’ Gertrude Moran, with her revealing outfit in 1949.

And Fred Perry daring to show his knees for once.

Categories: Competition, Tennis


July 6, 2013 13 comments

She’s the most unlikely athlete to look at. None of the usual wasp waist and slender limb. But she oozes determination with her shadow-shots – all double-handed and as ungainly as her play. But she wins – and might just spring a surprise today. And then she’ll do this again, I’m sure. Wimbledon, 2 pm BST.

France's Marion Bartoli overpowered Belgian Kirsten Flipkens 6-1, 6-2 to reach her second Wimbledon final. She faces Germany's Sabine Lisicki in the final.

Underrated: Andrea Temesvari

June 12, 2013 7 comments


In la primavera a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love, in the summer it turns to tennis. Back in the days of wooden racquets, all white clothes and Dan Maskell I was crazy about tennis. I used to play all the time becoming quite adept at the sport.

Once upon a time there was a beautiful Hungarian tennis player called Andrea Temesvari. She batted balls in the 1980’s and is a contemporary of me. When she was winning the Italian Open in 1982 I was celebrating being crowned school champion. It was a vintage year for tennis. Read more…