Second Helpings

Anyone For Tennis?

There was a time many moons ago when if, on the rare occasion there was any tennis on television I'd postpone everything to watch it. In the days of Jimmy Conners, Boris Becker Martina Navratilova and the likes, Wimbledon fortnight was a time I'd barely move from my seat in front of the set. Ah, happy days...sigh.

Nowadays I barely think about it; in fact we've even booked a week's holiday without realising it's the first week of Wimbledon. No matter, I don't think I'll be shedding any tears over that. Either I've outgrown the tennis phase or the players just don't cut it any longer. The dominance of Pete Sampras started the rot and Roger Federer has added more compost to the dunghill. However, my mother is still stuck in the tennis groove despite probably not knowing the difference between a ball boy, an umpire, a player or a spectator.

Today, being very clement weather, I actually plucked up enough courage to give her an airing and took her to a garden centre. I think she only stopped dead in her tracks causing multiple pile ups of visitors three times, knocked over only five shrubs and lost her glasses just a few hundred times so all in all quite an average day. On return to her house she decided she wanted to watch the French Open men's tennis final. I really couldn't bear to sit in her centrally heated lounge with the fire full on, so went into the other room to continue the latest jigsaw.

Now, I'm not really a great lover of jigsaws despite having completed countless numbers of them, but the novelty of sitting alone in a room with no one else around and no distractions really lifted my bruised spirits. My remaining brain cell calmed down, I started having a few positive, uplifting thoughts and the light at the end of this long dark tunnel I'm going through flickered faintly in the distance.

Then..shuffle, shuffle...

'Don't you want to watch the tennis?'

'Not really mum. It's too hot in there for me and besides I can't stand Federer.'

'Oh I like him. Anyway, he's running away with it now, so I'll help you with the jigsaw.' Peace shattered.

When I returned home I discovered the Spanish player Nadal had won the match, beating Federer three sets to one. Maybe there are two French Open tournaments and my mother was watching the other one?

Anyway, as I said I'll be off to Menorca for a week on June 25th so I'd like to get the June edition of The Blogville News released before I leave. So yet again, could all regular columnists let me have their contributions as soon as possible and don't forget to vote for your favourite blogger. Just send your votes to me - care of Cloud Cuckoo Land Monday to Friday and La La Land at weekends.

I tell you, if by any chance I meet a blind, rich Spanish hunk in Menorca I may never be seen or heard of again. Don't hold your breath though.