Death On The Centre Court*


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:


He has plenty of water to drink.  Let’s hope he cools down soon.

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.

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