New Balls Please

Quite by chance I ended up watching part of the Djokovic match the other afternoon.  Well , no, I’ll rephrase that, I was painting my toe nails in my bedroom and decided to turn the television on for some background noise.

I’ve never really been interested in sport, that is with the exception of Winter sports which I do like to watch.  I think the reason for my lack of interest spurs from two key things in my life growing up.

The first being boys who I had crushes on always seemed to let football come between us.  Their loss.  Lol  And the second many cold afternoons stood outside in mid Winter playing hockey at school.  I hate hockey with a vengeance and tried to avoid getting involved in the mêlée to preserve my ankles.

Hockey sticks and spiteful girls usually resulted in getting a good hook on the ankle bone and it was to be avoided at all costs.  I spent most of my time chatting to a like minded friend back down the field away from the action.

I almost forgot, went off at a bit of a tangent there, you should have stopped me.  Lol  So I’m listening to the match and hear this rather refined English voice instructing the players.  I looked up to see a very nice tall dark, well groomed man sitting up his ladders and was almost tempted for a minute to watch just for the fleeting glimpses of him.

So much so I actually watched for about 10 minutes and he didn’t appear again so I turned off.  His loss…