It is absolutely hurling it down here in Leicestershire. I’ve been up to the chucks and the pond fish and come back half drowned. I am so loving this summer. Chea is out in it. She usually calls it a day when its raining and tootles in but no, today she is out there in it. At least I’m assuming she is. I heard from the neighbour yesterday that she visits him in his kitchen which is quite worrying because he doesn’t like cats. Oopps I spoke too soon, here she comes – wet through!
I’m meeting my brother this morning and then this afternoon its ‘Wimbledon’ time. A comfy seat on the sofa and a bit of Andy Murray. I have found it most interesting how the aforesaid Mr Murray has changed over the last couple of years. Two or three years ago he was a sulky-looking, skinny lad whom people found it hard to get behind because of his aloof attitude. Like many things in this world things are not always the way they seem. A sulky nature is blamed for shyness and lack of confidence and experience in front of the camera? He loves what he does and the public and adoration side of it is a part that he didn’t necessarily sign up for.
Because someone chooses something that is public orientated it doesn’t follow that they feel comfortable with millions of people chanting their name. And besides, the press puts so much pressure on the likes of Andy Murray it is unbelievable. And the questions they ask after a match makes me want to hurl something at the TV. Let’s ask ourselves how we would feel with some tool in our faces asking stuff like, ‘how do you think you played today?’ when you’d just gone out in three sets? Don’t they already know the answer to that? Crap! You’d feel like utter crap.
Then they get personal. ‘Your girlfriend was watching, what do you think she was thinking while you were trying to get back into the match (being thrashed!) and couldn’t?’ I’d have to answer with something totally crass, like, ‘She’d be thinking that after only three sets I wouldn’t be too knackered for sex tonight.’ That would shut the idiots up.
And then of course we have to have the ‘studio’ autopsy where they dissect every move he made and we have to listen to the opinions of ‘yesterdays’ tennis players, most of whom never won a major match and have the personalities of snails. And that’s being unkind to snails. Having said this, John McEnroe tends to know what he is talking about and never takes himself too seriously. John went the distance. As far as I’m concerned that gives him the right to an opinion.
Take care my lovelies x