A good tennis player has nerves of steel, laser-sharp concentration, insect-like reflexes and the ability to hit a moving object with a racquet.

I am not a good tennis player, as Mrs R demonstrated when she beat me 6-1, 6-3 yesterday afternoon.

It didn’t help that there was a football match going on next door to the tennis courts in the park and I kept glancing at play during crucial points. It also didn’t help that I got quite angry with myself and swore a lot under my breath and stamped my feet petulantly.

The good thing is that I was wearing sunglasses and a hat, so no one could recognise me.

By the end of the match the footballers had kicked their ball over the fence on to the tennis court once and I had struck the tennis ball the other way over the fence into the penalty area once. So I saw it as a one-all draw.


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