Pant, pant, pant goes Mr Fluffypants. It’s a hot day on which to be fluffy and we’ve just returned from our second walk: more for my benefit than his I think. Walking with him in the sunshine calms my anxiety, which is severe at the moment.
Now the pooch is collapsed on the floor at my feet. Look:
Roger is playing Marin Cilic. It’s 5 – 5 in the first set. Watching Roger also stills my anxiety, unless he’s losing.
Oooohhhh 6 – 6. Tiebreak. Tiebreaks are not a friend of anxiety. Cilic is 2 – 0 up already. 3 – 0 now. Oh dear. 4 – 0. “Come on Roger,” someone shouts. 5 – 0 Cilic. 5 – 1 Cilic. 5 – 2 Cilic. “Come on Marin,” someone shouts. 6 – 2 Cilic. Several set points. Roger claws one back: 3 – 6. “He survives one of the four set points,”. And another: 4 – 6.
“What a wonderful tiebreaker that was from Marin Cilic as he grabs the first set 7 – 6,” the commentator says.
Mr Fluffypants dozes on the floor. The panther lies next to me on the sofa. Am going to put the kettle on and watch some doubles – this is too stressful: Roger has just dropped his serve. “Cilic now up a set and a break,” Tim says.
Happy Wednesday everyone!
*1937. By George Goodchild. Inspector McLean investigates the death of a player at Wimbledon.