OK so its still raining. I however remain resolutely cheerful in the face of inclement weather and lunatic suicide bomb threats. Bring it on. This is not some crappy spirit of the blitz approach however, Englands stiff upper lip has never been my forte.
Oh no. My joy derives from Wimbledon. Ever since I was a child I have had a loathing of the whole feckin thing. Strawberries, Cravats, queing for crappy tickets, blazers and Pimms (well actually not Pimms).
As a kid you would arrive home from school for those glorious two hours before tea and homework, flick on the TV and see nothing but tossers running about in white. There was no multi-channel options, that was it. No apologies. Nothing. Tennis or vets in the outback. In the early evening the parents would be glued to it.
"Shut up Fidel, we're watching the tennis."
I wouldn't have minded quite so much but neither of them had ever, to my knowledge actually hefted a tennis racket and I doubt they knew the rules.
Then, when Borg passed his crown to Boom Boom Boris, then boring Pete then on and on and on and on. (I appreciate this glosses over the good bit with McEnroe) No. No. No. Its not right. Thats the men.
The ladies - Navratilova (wasn't she also known as the Fridge or was that Betty Stover?), Graf (Battle ship not battleaxe) and every year a smattering of half dressed blonde russians (Pornicova?) Come on. Get over it.
A minority sport played by an elite for too much money and with little or no actual effort or excitement (except of course the tension of finding out how many millions you are due to earn this year). Even the useless cretin Henman earned an absolute fortune and for what? To artificially get pushed unrealistically up the rankings every June only to dissappoint a load of menopausal old Tory birds yet again? The fateful and pathetic perennial "Femail" pin-up. ***
But then it got worse. Not only was it on the telly but the whole country got taken over by "Henmania." Previously as a nation we'd never tried to be any good at it and had accepted our fate of going out in the second round surrounded by much handwringing in the papers and the annual "What can one do?" from the LTA*.
All of a sudden we supposedly had a contender. NONSENSE- he was crap**.
Anyway, this year normal service has been resumed, pissing with rain and all Brits out in the second round. Thank fuck for that.
*What you could possibly do at the LTA is stop tennis from being the preserve of the elitist middle class tossers who run most tennis clubs. As with all sports a little bit of aggression, drive, hunger and desire can make up for an awful lot of pampering, simpering and expensive coaching. Get rid of the Ruperts.
** Yes Henman fans, he is crap. He has that most frustraing of habits of nealy pulling it off every time he plays but somehow manages to lose all nine match points. Sorry for him? No Chance. Glorious British hero or Failure, Bottle job, choker, arsehole. Call him what you like- no- really call him what you like. I do not give a shit.
***Yes I hate Femail almost more than the Sunday Observer.
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