Somehow we are already at Friday and I have yet to see a game of tennis! For some reason, this year I have not been inspired to tune in (yet) but perhaps will do so from tomorrow onwards. I needed to avoid the desperation associated with commentators' angst over the various British competitors, and try to watch the tennis without the groans of "Why don't we have more success at the top level in tennis?"
Obviously there's an exception, seeing as despite the rapid move for Scotland to claim independence (which it already has in may areas) Andy Murray is British. Of course, should he need to park at a hospital without charge, or get a prescription, it'll be his claim that he is in fact Scottish. I feel the subject of "media kettling" as I am apparently obliged to be interested in little else but whether he has progressed to the next round. Articles in the paper about Murray (or quite commonly "Muzza", which is a diabolical nickname) are accompanied by a picture that invariably shows him screaming, and generally trying to look as ugly as possible. I watch tennis to see good tennis, not to be obsessed and/or partisan. Whether a player is British, English, Scottish, Welsh, or Northern Irish, I could not give a monkeys.
I do not like the leading questions, which often are little more than prompts for complimentary comments, fed to past tennis stars. They are paid to be pundits and have to field questions that can only be answered by confirming British tennis has hope. Hmmmmmm.
They closed Henman Hill the other day, as it was raining and there could be a health and safety issue. What cuntin, bollocks! I suppose the many thousands of music fans at Glastonbury will object to the mud and rain, and threaten to sue if they slip over? No, they will live in Britain and deal with British weather. Apparently tennis fans have not the wherewithal to avoid slipping on wet grass, and breaking a leg or neck, in their race get get a strawberry with a squirt of cream at £9.50. None of this twaddle is as pointless as the name-change applied to Henman Hill. It is now apparently Murray Mount. What a fucking stupid notion! Have we changed Nelson's Column so that it's now referred to as Captain Pugwash's Prick just because he's a slightly better known sailor? Of course we haven't; and trying to use alliteration to force a cosy feel about a lump of earth is twattish. How about "Loser's Lump"? Actually, Twat's Tor is no worse than Murray's Mount. Something that does amuse me is the apparent cheer for "Come on Tim", shouted at each Murray match by some people in the crowd. That would of course annoy 'our Andy', and he will have to be given a few sweets by his mum (who is reported to carry a supply of his favourites). That's what management and coaching is all about, eh!
I have little idea of who's got through so far, and what's been happening. I suspect that in the Women's tournament, there have been a few tantrums, a few tears, a few frustrations and disappointments; excuses will have been given. There will have been some talk about injuries and focus, and trying to relax. Over in the Men's tournament, Serena Williams is still going strong, after disposing of Simona Halep.
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