advantage, federer
Dark storm clouds are gathering. Rain peppers the window panes of South-West London. A mood of despondency & resignation descends upon the nation. Forecasts predict gloom for the foreseeable, and it’s universally predicted economic-output is immediately going to fall. It can only mean one thing. The fall-out from the shocking Brexit decision? Nah, don’t be silly, it’s Wimbledon again and time for us all to go the tennis equivalent of snooker-loopy!
Cards on the table I’m never been a big tennis fan but I have to admit I read an interesting article t’other day on everyone’s favourite & sartorially elegant tennis player, Roger Federer. The first thing I learn from the ever-calm, well-mannered and considered gentleman is that this wasn’t always the case. Oh no. It transpires young Roger was a bit of a tantrum teen tearaway and had the reputation as, shock-horror, a bit of a racquet-smasher, to the extent that his (working-class (for Switzerland)) parents would have to walk away to avoid showing their shame & humiliation. Furthermore, the ice-man wasn’t big on practice and would often be thrown out of group sessions for being the bad-boy at the back of the class, with a penchant for drilling the ball into the backs of his doubles’ partners. Good on you, Rog, and I never knew you had it in you!
So, it would have been about this time, when Mr Federer was busy transforming himself from expletive-throwing McEnroe to Samurai-zen-like Bjorn Borg, that the beautiful, the elegant, the toned Maria Sharapova was probably doping for the first time. Tennis needs Sharapova like Roger needs a new sweater, like Sue Barker needs more air-time, like Andy Murray needs anger-management classes (you sure about that one? Ed) Perhaps, contrary to popular opinion, the girl is a cheat, pure & simple.
The blonde bombshell of the backhand brought her downfall on herself and her blatant and cynical use of doping products should’ve resulted in a lifetime ban, not the two-year slap on her well-tanned wrist. For well over a decade she hid her use & abuse of an elaborate cocktail of 30 medications & supplements, including the banned Meldonium, which increases blood flow and delivers a whopping boost of extra oxygen to the muscles and vital organs, from, not only the authorities, but even her coach and trainer. WTF, how more guilty could she be? Well, she even went as far as trying to blame her agent as he was apparently “on holiday in the Caribbean when he should have been reading the updated rules” on the Meldonium ban. The fact that she took the drug on her six match-days of Wimbledon last year, and, on the advice of her doctor to dose-up for “games of special importance” but never on a rest day, seals her fate and tarnish’s her reputation & legacy for life.
On a more upbeat note, it’s great to see the return of the lively, energetic, amusing & ever witty, Ivan Lendl to Mr Murray’s corner. Always one for a quick-quip and good guffaw, Andy has denied the rumours that Ivan’s the only person who can make him look light-hearted & fun! Oh, and this time last year, Mr Murray was in hot-water for letting his pro-leave views with regards to Scotland slip out, and I wonder if he’ll now lobby the SNP for a re-run of said referendum. I know I would…
