I have been trying in vain for years to turn one of my children into a potential tennis pro, or at least to engage them in the game enough to ensure I always have someone to play with .
Until yesterday, I had not been successful. Then came the breakthrough. I was actually hoping it would be one of the girls, as I rarely find anything they do amuses me (bitching at people on Facebook does not entertain me, nor does endlessly curling my hair). I was secretly hoping one or the other would suddenly stop complaining on court and wanting to go home and start trying to beat me. They have been having lessons since they could walk, but Olivia has given up completely and Bea, although she is getting better, does insist on doing cartwheels between each point which rather complicates things.
By the way, as this is a blog about tennis, I have taken the opportunity to share with you a picture of a semi-naked Rafa taken by my friend Karen. That is how close we were to him…
Of course it was Leo who had the ‘Eureka I love tennis’ moment. We were playing a mini-match and he was getting shots past me. Really good shots. Half-way through our match Bea dropped her ipod touch and the screen smashed into 100 pieces. Not surprisingly she went semi-hysterical. There was no consoling her.
“Don’t worry,” said Leo. “You can have mine, I don’t need it, I just want to play tennis.”
That’s my boy……
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2011