The Olympic Diary – Day Two – New balls please

I hate tennis.  I must be one of the few people in this country who will not watch one single minute of the Wimbledon championships.  On the day when Andy Murray took on Federer I went to cricket.  I hate the plastic fans who are Murray/Henman/Rudeski’s biggest fans today, yet pay no interest in the sport for the other 50 weeks of the year.  Attendances at Davis Cup matches when held in the UK bear this out.

So I wasn’t really interested in the whole Tennis competition in the Olympics.  In some respects I do not see why it should be included (similar reasons to Football), but then again the Olympics is designed to celebrate the best sportsmen and women in their respective events.  What I do not understand though is why Tennis and Badminton are in the Olympics, yet Squash doesn’t.

I am married to a wonderful women.  We are compatible in so many ways, but in some aspects we are poles apart.  She is a Northern lass and so has some strange ways which over time I have managed to cleanse her of, and fortunately neither of my children have picked up words like booook, say phrases like “now then” instead of “hello” and avoid chips with gravy on.  She also loves watching tennis.  Every year she pleads with me to try to get Wimbledon tickets.  And every year I tell her that I tried but they were simply sold out to those “bloody corporate suits”.

With our 14 year wedding anniversary approaching I was stuck for a suitably lavish display of my ongoing affection. That was before a knight in shining armour appeared.  “Would I know anyone who was interested in a £30 ticket for Wimbledon Centre Court?” popped the message up on my PC.  Bingo – that was the answer to all my prayers.  I could send the Current Mrs Fuller down to SW19, fulfilling her fantasies of drinking Pimms from the naked belly button of John McEnroe whilst I look like the best husband in the world.  Everyone’s a winner.

She was delighted and showered me with affection as any good wife should.  She then told me who she would be seeing.  Venus Williams (lots of grunting), Andy Murray (lots of sweating), Djokovic (no idea) and Maria Sharapova…..Woooah…back up there.  Hang on a minute – now that wasn’t playing fair. Continue reading

My first game – Dave Mayor

Manchester City 3 Wimbledon 1
Football League Division 1
Maine Road
August 23rd 1986
Att: 20,756

Confession: This wasn’t actually my first game, that was a local derby between Stalybridge Celtic and Mossley (I think, certainly one of the other Tameside clubs) but I count it as such and it does have, more historic and personal significance.

Being six-years-old at the time there’s not a great deal I can remember about it in all honesty. One of the things was standing (or being sat on a railing) on the Kippax, the huge Platt Lane stand to my left looked empty. It often did. 8,000 seats was quite a large number to designate away supports when the average crowd across the league that season was just below 20,000. Continue reading