Soon after I came to Devon to work at the Sport, Sports and Sporting Activities Centre, I was interviewed by the local radio station. I think it was because they thought it was unusual to have a kiwi tennis player living locally. People are very insular in this part of Devon. Or maybe it was engineered as a bit of public relations by the management of the sports centre where I work.
Anyway, one of the big things that the interviewer talked about was how angry he gets when he plays tennis with his friend on the local recreation ground tennis courts. He says that if he wins, he feels good, but if he loses, he gets really angry and refuses to talk to his friend for several days. Usually his friend has to buy him a drink in the local pub so that they can make up and become friends again – until the next tennis match.
All of which, is something I absolutely didn’t understand. At the end of a tennis game, club tennis tradition is for the players to always shake hands. It marks the end of the battle. Sometimes I don’t want to shake hands, if I have had a bad match, but it is a ritual that everybody follows and afterwards I always feel better.
I suppose that the hand-shaking bit at the end, is a formalised way of ending the conflict. As soon as we shake hands, we can talk about other things and continue with normal friendly relationships.
I tried to explain this to the local radio interviewer but I don’t think he was listening. Just about the time I was talking about shaking hands, I made the mistake of uncrossing my legs and I was wearing a short tennis skirt at the time. This simple action seemed to take his whole attention.
Afterwards, he tried to make a date but he was too short and balding. Plus, I don’t think I would like anybody who was so immature enough to sulk after losing a tennis match – or perhaps even somebody who makes a habit of losing games of tennis, for that matter.
Not that I wouldn’t like a little bit of boyfriend activity, if I could get it. Living and working in the Devon countryside is all very well but a girl’s got to think of her social life and for me recently it’s been a big zero.
In fact the last real relationship I had was in New Zealand with a sleaze-ball rep for a tennis equipment manufacturer. I suppose I had hoped I would get some free equipment and maybe some sponsorship, as well as a little loving, but he wasn’t really interested in how I played tennis. Instead, he was more interested in how he could play me along.
When I discovered he already had a wife and two kids, I dropped him like a brick. I always regretted not getting back at him. I should have done something dramatic to teach him a lesson but I couldn’t think of anything at the time and, anyway, I’m not usually vindictive. I suppose we had some good times and the relationship had perhaps just run its course.
It was soon after that I cane to the UK and the Sport, Sports and Sporting Activities Centre.
