Yes, the time has come for me to sally forth once more, racket in hand, and demonstrate how completely incapable I am of holding my nerve in a competitive situation.
This weekend, I shall mostly be serving double faults. On a bed of colourful language with a garnish of incoherent muttering. For those of you who haven't guessed, I am on my way to another tennis tournament, this time in Cardiff.
I have come to the difficult conclusion that I cannot in all conscience describe myself as a novice anymore. I feel that winning a Novice title pretty much rules out the possibility of entering any more Novice divisions. I fear I may have peaked too early, and considered retiring with a 100% record in competition, but like any seasoned pro, I just can't stay away from the game. The glamour, the trophies, the excitement, the international travel, the jetset lifestyle, the rush of winning. All these things I am unlikely to find, especially in the novice draw (well, I did find the trophies, I suppose).
So, this weekend I am entered in the B draw (Thankfully, there is still ahead of me a second draw and a first draw). I fully expect to go out first round, get one consolation match, and be back by Saturday afternoon. We shall see.
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