I'm not a big fan of tennis. Growing up in the bush tennis was always something the rich kids who lived out on properties did. So far out of town their well-to-do parents put in swimming pools and goal posts and tennis courts in their back paddocks.
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You had to do something to get you out of driving your kids into town every weekend for team sports, afterall you were too busy harvesting and plowing and all those things farmers did before all they had to do was worry about what the f*** the environment was doing.
God bless all of them in retrospect.
For me, tennis was all about summer holidays, heading to some cheap resort at Surfers' Paradise, where, if you were blessed, there were a couple of swimming pools, and a tennis court where you could hire a couple of loosely stringed racquets and some flat balls from reception and fight with your family over three sets.
It's not that tennis was completely foreign to me. I'd watch it on the television, if the cricket wasn't on. But I'd much rather watch Alan Lamb, Ian Botham, Dennis Lillee, Jeff Thomson, Imran Khan and the likes rather than whoever might have been poncing about on centre court at Wimbledon.
That said, I didn't mind such players as Stefan Edberg and Mats Wilander, and it's not like we could admit we liked John McEnroe, our parents never would have approved.
I was a big fan of Ivan Lendl's steely calm and Andre Agassi was intriguing with all that hair and all the connections to women he dated. Barba Streisand, for lordy's sake.
I had a thing for Boris Becker, too. Redheads. I know, I still can't explain it. He was only 17 when he won Wimbledon in 1985, but by the time he was having sex in cupboards at restaurants in the late 1990s I was well over him.
If I had to choose my favourite male player it was Goran Ivanievi, the Croatian left-hander who would keep you up late at night as he beat the likes of Sampras on the way to a final. And no one would have any idea who he was.
Mind you, this was all back in the day where you could appreciate sport without having to worry about whether you were paying too much attention to whether you were supporting women or men.
Tennis was tennis, sport was sport, and no one was too worried whether you were playing five sets or three sets, or what you were being paid.
That said, I did like players on the women's circuit. Queen Steffi, Gabriela Sabatini, Martina Navratilova was superb but she was hard to like.
My favourite women's player was the plucky Arantxa Sanchez Vicario. She was never as glamourous as Sabatini or as good as Queen Steffi but I liked how she tucked that ridiculous plastic ball holder into her skirt and tried to compete.
Googling now, she's 48, with a couple of kids, divorced, bankrupt and not playing a lot of tennis. Funny how life turns out.
The other night Nick Kyrgios was playing someone, there was a Big Bash cricket game on the other channel, and, if you're an old timer like me, you're still struggling with what sport is on what channel, the cricket has always been on channel nine, please. It's all so confusing.
And as much as I wanted to watch Canberra's own bad boy play, particularly after his good work in supporting the bushfire relief, I found myself tuning into Matthew Wade and the Hurricanes in the cricket.
Because, at the end of the day I will always want to watch team sports.
As much as I love, absolutely love, watching golf on the tele, due to smart editing and producers who cut to 10 metre putt after 5000m drive after 20 metre chip, I can't quite bring myself to watch a sport where there's only two people involved.
Because here's the thing, tennis has to be one of the most selfish sports about.
I apologise to all those lovely people who ponce about at Turner, or Red Hill, but I just don't get it. For me sport has to involve teamwork and reliance on other people, people relying on you.
Perhaps tennis does that in some way, each player with a team, as such, behind them, with the ultimate focus on the individual on the court.
But for me sport will never be about the individual.