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Henmania no more
By Will 4 months ago, Comments
Regular readers will know of my unashamed (yet entirely unreasonable) dislike of Henmania and the man behind it all. It’s not that our Tim was no good. He was very good indeed, but he chose the biggest matches to completely and utterly bottle it. This is my frustration. Here was a middle-class, quietly spoken, affable sort of chap with the limpest “come on!” gesture in tennis, and one of the best volleyists in the game, who on occasion made your Dad look really very good with a racquet in his hands.
Anyway, I’m delighted to hear our Tim is back on our screens under the guise of a commentator. Oh good. Not content with boring us with his only-occasional excellence on the court, we’re now victim to his banal (and, so far at least) and extremely dull opinions off it. At least McEnroe shoots from the hip. Our Tim hasn’t got a hip to shoot from, let alone a gun.
Worst of all, we are denied one of summer’s greatest sights: our Tim’s dad, snoozing and clearly roaringly drunk in the box. That, and our Tim’s lovely wife (whose family happen to “holiday” in the village my Mum lives in. They don’t much like the pub, apparently).
CommentsTiger Tim no more
By Will last year, at the end of August, Comments
I hear Tim Henman is to retire from Tennis. Apparently, it “wasn’t a difficult decision to make”. Well, we could have told you that Tim. He was a brilliant player to watch - his duels against Pete ‘The Ape’ Sampras were particularly memorable - but ultimately he wasn’t much of a winner. And he never quite nailed that fist-clenching “come on” but we’ll forgive all his losses for having such an attractive wife.
CommentsAmo, amas, a rant
By Will 2 years ago, at the end of June, Comments
I know I’m ranting a lot lately - normal cricketing service shall resume shortly. But I must just get this off my (spluttering) chest. I’m watching Tim Henman, which often induces sporadic fits of frustration in me. Onwards…
I have a tendency to look a bit rough-and-ready at the best of times. Therefore, when I’m ill I closely resemble a homeless person. Incidentally, that’s probably politically incorrect. “A less homely person”? On a similar point, did you know “disabled” has all but been banned? Those lacking ability, or movement, are “less abled” which, from my time at the NHS, was met with guffaws by the dozen of so wheelchair-bound patients who I worked with on a daily basis).
Anyway, with a four-day beard and genuinely feeling like a dog, I marched into my local surgery. “Hello, would it be possible to see a Doctor? I think I’m about to die” weren’t my exact words, but it was plain as day that I was clearly not there to make up the numbers, or offer her a discount on a handmade cuckoo clock from Milton Keynes. Nor do I have a taste for ketamine or other bizarre drugs: I just need some antibiotics. Here’s what she said.
“We don’t have any doctors here today.”
WHAT? You’re a fucking surgery. Your signpost outside clearly states you are not only open now, at midday, but that you will be open until six. Open but Doctorless - welcome to (Old) Labour’s vision of how to reduce an ageing population: kill us all before we reach 65. How, then, can she help me?
“You can come back tomorrow. We should have a doctor then.”
Terrific. That’s just brilliant - just brilliant. My problem with this is twofold: there are many, many other people who are far, far worse off than me. What would they do? Not a bloody lot I imagine. Secondly, could she have been any less helpful? It’s all about numbers, figures, databases, and targets these days. When I was at the NHS, we were similarly crippled in booking patients on for operations or clinics, but every day we made exceptions where possible.
Anyway, I’m now eating chicken soup which, apparently, is also known as Jewish penicillin.
CommentsTennis v Cricket
By Will 3 years ago, at the end of June, Comments
I was pretty fuming yesterday. I got back in time to see Tim Henman play his first game at Wimbledon, and it was the same old story. Woeful tennis for the most part, eventually crawling his way back to defeat. I follow most sports, and enjoy the two weeks of Wimbledon - but I have no respect for “tiger Tim,” who is (surely) aptly named after the Bangladeshi cricket team. He’s Britain’s best player - of that there is no doubt - but how depressing that that’s the best we can do. Come on Andrew Murray, about time we had a tougher opponent to cheer.
Anyway, one of the commentators said how “wonderful” this British sporting summer is. He mentioned Jenson Button possibly winning Silverstone; the Lions defeating New Zealand (unlikely) and Henman making the Wimbledon final (come off it). But failed to mentioned the biggest sporting even of the summer, The Ashes. I know, it’s not a big thing - but it infuriates me how certain people in the sporting media in this country seemingly ignore cricket. The Ashes is one of (if not THE) oldest international sporting contests in the world - I just pray it gets the coverage and attention it deserves. And, on a selfish “cricket is better than tennis” note, to think anyone would rather watch Tim Henman than Australia v England…well it doesn’t bear thinking about!
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