I do not like Serena Williams, not at all, don’t like the family, don’t like anything about what she does. The sycophantic media were all over her, the two duchesses were cheering her every move, riding every shot, Megan Markle was crestfallen at the end – the wrong woman had won.
Not for me she hadn’t – I’m not interested in the women’s game with its grunting, although this game was not bad. But my overwhelming interest in this was to see Kerber win. I took a look at her yesterday before the game – maybe not the most beautiful woman, aged 30 and on that slow slide, had never won a major – yep, she was my gal all right. Unsung – perfect. I duly fell in love.
And did she ever play well.
Then Williams with all this emotive “I did this for all mothers” – purr-lease. Kerber had a game plan, she stuck to it, she overcame, a triumph of concentration. Well done to a worthy winner. Luv.
One more thing – I shall not watch any woman’s game which has that puerile Wow and Ker-pow and all that rubbish superimposed on the screen by some Millennial. At least let us watch the tennis.
We were in the cafe – I went up to the counter and asked if anyone knew the result – no one, no one was following it. Typical – they all wanted Federer or Nadal, didn’t they? Just what does Novak have to do to be loved?
Boris Becker tweeted that Jokovic was going all out for the crowd’s love with the son and wife bit. Maybe – he shouldn’t. If forced to choose between respect and love, I’d choose respect every time. Two ladies at the next table were watching it though and announced that NJ had won and I exulted.
They admitted they’d hoped – who is this Anderson anyway? That’s when I became unsure – poor Kevin Anderson, those long games, all he’d done to get there. OK, I’d have been happy with either, for different reasons. South African too – I like him.
Either would have been good over Federer or Nadal. I’ve nothing against Federer or Nadal but they’ve had their reward, the media are all over them. Nah, give me the unsung, the less popular, the one no one cares about, the unstylish, the ordinary tryer.
This motif runs all the way through my book – there’s a place where someone says people liked this character Nikki but no one was actually for her, nobody was taking her part. Well I was, I was all for her – I’m sure you’re getting the idea. What was her crime? She was efficient, clever, got the job done, was here there and everywhere for others, a Miss Lemon. Yup, she’s my gal.
Novak J should not curry love, he’s not going to get it – he’s not a pretty boy like the others, he does it the hard way. He’s my guy and he has a darling wife and nice son.
We were the sentimental favourites but were just not good enough – see Dearieme’s analysis in comments.
France were always going to, they were the best of this bunch, it was a good World Cup, well run and those Russian girls are something else. You don’t have to love France but you have to respect this result – the penalty was not their fault.
Well done to them. Maybe love is difficult but certainly respect.
And respect means more to me than love.