Last week was Wacky Wednesday when seeds were falling, literally, all over the place and withdrawing or losing and it all got a bit hysterical. Well today was even worse – not so much for the seeds but for us watching.
Now I love Wimbledon and there are some traditions that never go away. The overpriced Pimms and strawberries, Sue Barker's awful hair and clothes (get her a stylist somebody), the exit of the Brits on day one and of course, being put through the ringer by one of those players. Tim Henman upheld this tradition for many years usually playing a five setter on Centre Court against somebody ranked 955 in Lithuania. It happened year after year until we got used to it – it was part of his charm. Then along comes Andy and he also has given us a fair share of nail biters (there was one the other year that went on until 11 pm at night under the Centre Court roof before he finished it off) but this year he has majestically strode through his matches in straight sets. All very strange. The crowd began to get used to this and relax a bit, but then we came to today.
He was playing Verdasco from Spain. And before I go any further can I say that I was totally fascinated by his hair. Positively bouffant and it never seemed to move, only the odd lock falling fetchingly on his forehead. Not sure I would care to run barefoot through it, have a feeling my feet would be very greasy
indeed as it looked as if he had put a pot of Brylcreem on it. Weird.
I digress.
Within ten minutes of the match starting I felt uneasy. I was watching Andy and thinking he looks sluggish, he is not moving, he is letting Verdasco make all the running, literally. The he started making mistakes, the shoulders slumped and the air of Kevin the Teenager which we all thought Andy had left behind, made a reappearance. At this stage I knew something dire was going to happen and at 4-5 down I switched off as I could not bear to watch what I felt was coming.
As the afternoon wore on and my TV stayed off, I was bombarded with text messages, tweets and telephone calls from friends asking what I was doing, what did I think, what was happening. Over 45 years of watching Wimbledon enabled me to deal with all this with equinimity, I was immune to the possible upset. After all you are talking to a woman who sat on the Centre Court and watched my then idol, Roger Taylor of GB, lose in five sets in the semi-finals at Wimbers, THREE years running. Yes three. And in each case he was two sets up and leading before he lost. So my inner Eeyore came to the surface and I prepared myself for the catastrophe.
Then a text from my daughter 'Turn telly on Mum it is the fifth set'. So I did and spent the next half hour hiding behind the door and the sofa unable to watch so in the end turned it off again and only switched it back on when I knew the result. I tell you if he beats the nine foot Pole in the semis and that is not guaranteed, I do not think I will be able to watch on Sunday. I really don't.
The othe semi with del Potro was simply awesome. Bad fall at the start and it looked as if Ferrer would go through by default, but Delpo wasn't going to give in easy and he carried on knowing he had to hit out and run as little as possible. There then followed three sets of simply amazing tennis, an exhibition of power hitting and stunning rallies that had me jumping up and down on the sofa. I do love Juan Martin and it would be wonderful if he could beat Djokovic, he has done it a few times. Well we shall see.
The women's semis are tomorrow and for the first time since the open era of tennis started there is not one single champion of any of the Grand Slams in the last four. That is wonderful. A new champion and I would love it to be Lisicki.
I tell you it has been a nerve wracking day. I watched the first episode of the third series of Luther last night and thought that that was shatteringly frightening enough, but it pales into comparison when it comes to watching Andy at Wimbledon.
New balls please…….
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