Jottings - Slice of life - 312 ( The master bows to a fit successor - Novak wears the Wimbledon crown)
Jottings - Slice of life - 312 ( The master bows to a fit successor - Novak wears the Wimbledon crown) Tennis is a lonely game at the highest echelons of the sport. All the intense match preparation, prodigious talent, enormous fan following, must be left behind in the locker rooms, or laid at the altar of the game, to stand alone - existentially alone - without any props whatsoever, to face the opponent on the other side and play the game as it unfolds every match. Precedents don’t matter, previous records are mere numbers on paper, what matters is this day, this match, this game, and well — this upcoming point in question. No matter how big a champion one is, or how much of history one brings to the court, the game has its own inimitable way of leveling the playing field. The game of tennis is not merely mastering a set of physical skills or techniques to perfection; but more of a psychological battle; preparation of the mind and the ability to get into the opponents’ mind as wel