Strawberries with lashings of cliche
WHILE tennis may not be your sport of choice, there's something about Wimbledon that brings out the best in our seasoned commentators.
Like meeting old friends, we are re-acquainted with our favourite cliches. Players dig deep in the fifth set. They pull off courageous comebacks while they're hurting out there. Players are bundled out. I've always wondered what that meant - are they wrapped together and asked to leave?
From the comfort of our couches we become tennis experts and pick up the lingo only to forget it the day after the final - unforced errors, volleys, rallies and passing shots. We become as smooth as Kenny Sutcliffe; as nimble as Newk.
Our commentators extol the history and colour of Wimbledon. The magic and mystique of centre court is described in hushed tones - what's that I hear you say, Ken? Ah yes, sacred turf.
They are unashamedly pro-Australian. For the first week they wonder whether this will be Lleyton's year. In the second, we usually witness amazing backpedalling and hear how he bowed out but did Australia proud.
Every backhand, forehand and serve from our Aussie contingent is glorified. As our next great female hope goes down in the first round in a whitewash against a lowly ranked Lithuanian, our commentators say she went out in a courageous battle and that the rebuilding of a new era in Australian tennis has begun. No Australian really loses - there are just early-round exits.
The grunts that are common among female players elicit in-depth analysis on the effect of a grunt on an opponent. It is no mean feat for two grown men to spend 10 minutes on live television talking seriously about the art of grunting.
To give our tennis commentators credit, they're skilled professionals. In many and varied professions. Relationship analysts (Marat Safin and his all-female, all-blonde entourage and Lleyton and Bec); fashion commentators (the Williams sisters), psychologists (reminiscing about the Poo's demise), family counsellors (any female Russian player and her stern looking moustached father), they cover it all.
Sorry to give you a serve, Ken, Newk et al, but you do make such a racket when all I want to do is watch the tennis.
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