IF

This is an unusual piece of writing for me to do. It is purely personal and it may offend some readers because it is one of those ‘Wot I Think’ nonsenses so please don’t be offended just take a pill and lie down, or simply move on to a more palatable dish.

I love tennis and cricket and have been taught both and have played both…….poorly, but enthusiastically. It is summer here and the bat and racquet, plus the appropriate yellow or red balls are everywhere. However, this summer the world seems to be turning itself upside down in so many ways and the weather, always unpredictable, is particularly bloody minded.

 So, back to tennis; the tennis played in Paris a while ago. Has that too lost its allure I wondered?    I had turned off the miserable news and torn up the political  messages about the forthcoming General E. and was preparing for a feast of skill and super athleticism. I was not disappointed although Rafael Nadal fell by the wayside, which was almost inevitable. His opponent, Alexander (Sacha)Zverev delivered a  charming farewell to Nadal, delivering it with respect and genuine admiration and  that was applauded by the very well informed and tennis wise , mainly French, spectators. 

The week continued and players came and went all of them displaying the tennis that is now the game not the tennis that most of you (us?) were taught. How I regret that I was not allowed to use both hands to swing the racquet and that I was told never to swing the racquet over my shoulder and behind my ear and then use it to almost atomise the ball! Obvious and deliberate aggression is now the expected order of the day. However, tennis has always managed to retain some of the older components which made the sport a delight to follow. There is just a ghost of politeness about showing your opponent that the balls are new  and in apologising for a winning shot aided by the net cord; most players show some sort of concern if there is an accident to an opponent; some even find the grace to say a few words of consolation to the loser and some actually thank the ball boys !

 I am lucky enough to have seen many of the greatest players of the last and present centuries. I can recall the gentle Jaroslav Drobny  winning  Wimbledon , the magical Ken Rosewall  the greatest champion who never won the title, the Australian giants, the quiet  Scandinavians like Borg , the Americans mainly admirable like Andre Agassi or Arthur Ashe (with one glaring  USA exception, alas)  the many exciting Europeans , and the players phenomenal in every way, Federer and Nadal. These men were nearly all what we used to call ‘Gentlemen’.   That is a difficult word to explain but surely we all have an idea about what it means for us personally and we do not have to be pedantic about the definition?

Back to the present. Eventually the tennis had reached the semifinals and the Serbian international champion Djokovic arrived to rapturous applause from the crowds. He was due to take on a young man who had yet to earn his spurs. This is now when I begin to realise that somehow tennis has to face the idea that all is not well in its house and I have to remind anyone still reading that my opinion is just that, my opinion.

Djokovic is a brilliant and clever player; he is not really a gentleman, but a mechanic and it was during this match that his behaviour hit a very sour note. He was obviously unhappy about the surface of the court and made that patently clear. What he then did was disgraceful. He refused to play properly, ignored his opponent, walked about aimlessly, treating opponent and everyone else with disdain and stupendous disrespect. His opponent must have been in a helpless quandary. At one moment Djokovic slipped and made an embarrassing scene about the court surface but still ignored his opponent. However, even Djokovic must have realised that he was  putting himself in jeopardy and so he began slowly to play . He won, but the victory was hollow and he later withdrew from the competition altogether. He may correctly claim to be injured. That is up to him.

I don’t know whether he will play at Wimbledon. I hope not. Perhaps we should remind him to read the words written above the Centre Court and he should try to ‘treat the two imposters just the same’ as the poem suggests.  He might then learn why he has not been as loved and respected as he expected and hoped to be.

Why am I so angry about this nonsense? Well, it is difficult to identify heroes in these violent, cruel and noisome times and we really do need to have people to admire.  The French Final concluded with a long battle between Sacha Zverev and Carlos Alcaraz.  It was well fought but there was a moment toward the end when the eventual winner, Alcaraz, forgot to smile as broadly as he had been trained to do  and he actually  bared his teeth in a snarl at Zverev who was questioning  a decision by the umpire who was yet again reading the dust for the truth about a doubtful call using that  amateurish way that the French insist on  using although they do in fact have the alternative modern way of deciding the truth . Oh yes! Zverev is German, Alcaraz is Spanish. Perhaps, alas, we might be looking for a real Tennis hero worth following for many more summers.