Another game of tennis with Ben today. As he gets better, I get worse. And he is getting better, and as previously implied, I am getting worse, thus the gap in quality widens. I lost again. Badly. 6-1, 6-4. I'm no Tim Henman; even for all his moronic critics crying 'he never won anything' and always bottled it at Wimbledon', I like Tim Henman and part of me wants to be like him, at least when I ve just fluffed a limp forehand into the net on the rain-soaked gravel courts at Egham Leisure centre. In the pub afterwards, Rich asked, I think jokingly, 'so did you serve and volley then Rat', before I could answer, Ben just laughed, not a giggle or a chortle , a solid laugh. Maybe I need a tactic, I certainly don't have a tennis 'weapon'. My forehand is better than my backhand because my backhand is non-existent, I am one of those terrible tennis players, who runs round the ball to get it on the forehand side. This is not a good thing for several reasons; 1. my forehand is shit. 2. I m a very slow runner. 3. It opens up the whole court, and thus even if I successfully hit the ball back to my opponent, he slams it into the areas of the court made vacant by my unelegant navigation of the ball. My serve isn't up to much these days either. I have often spent more energy eating a buffet (pizza hut) than on my second serve . A token gesture, no u11 girl woul dbe proud of, it is simply ballooned over the net, much to Ben's credit he keeps a straight face, although less admirably, he inevitably hits a winner. I asked my Dad for his tennis advice, whilst explaining my limitations, 'my serve is poor, I dont have a backhand, and my forehand is not all its cracked up to be!'. 'Hit more winners than losers' was his response. Cheers Federer, I thought, I hit about 2 winners per match on a good day, and with regards to losers, there is no bigger loser than me on the tennis court. Though I have the look of a pro, with my sparkling white wristband, washed by Mum, my excuse for a racket is the first indicator that I am what John McEnroe would undoubtedly call, 'shit'.
Of late, it has normally been dark when Ben and I have played, the floodlights, whilst perfect for the 5 a side football pitches, are a real dissapointment on the tennis courts, in that they dont work. Today, it was wet, and a bit dark, I'm not having a go, you can only control the controllables(!), all I'm saying is that I ve played in better conditions. So I got beat, again. The BBC's statistician is doubtless aware that Raven has now beaten R-Jones in all of their previous 5 encounters, all of which have been on, gravel. Personally I think I'm more of a grass player, a bit like Henman you might say, though I imagine he'd be less than flattered by the comparison.