The Thrill of the Game

I have just finished watching the Mens' Singles Final at Wimbledon, between Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer. It was truly nail-biting - a five-set match with some marvellous ups and downs. First one man was winning, then the other. By the fifth set, I genuinely didn't care who won - they had both played such fabulous tennis that they both deserved it. It was a delight and a privilege to watch tennis being so well and so daringly played.

After four gruelling hours, Djokovic finally won. And paid generous and moving tribute to Federer in the post-match interview. I know it was easy for him to be generous when he had won, but to thank Federer for "letting me win" was both funny, and moving.

I couldn't help contrasting it to the lack-lustre Women's Singles Final yesterday, when Petra Kvitova wiped the floor with Eugenie Bouchard in two sets in under an hour - I found it quite dispiriting to watch. Kvitova's tennis was just in a different league to Bouchard's - all credit to her, but no fun to watch.  Hopefully Bouchard will have a chance another year.

It has made me realise (again) that so far as I am concerned, it's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game that matters. Both Djokovic and Federer demonstrated this over and over again - if one of them lost a game, they just picked themselves up and battled on, refusing to be downcast or put off. They didn't let setbacks affect their game, they just strove to be in the present moment, concentrating on the game they were playing. Which was what made it such a treat to watch. Even in the fifth set, there were long rallies, with multiple daring strokes.

And this is true not only in tennis, but in life. I hope that when life kicks me in the face, that I will remember today, and have the courage to follow their example, and pick myself back up and carry on, giving it my best.

Special Events

In the last couple of days, I have experienced two special events, both as a passive receiver of special-ness.



The first was watching, on Friday afternoon, the Djokovic / Del Potro men's semi-final at Wimbledon. I have watched Wimbledon every year since I was small, and cannot remember seeing another such match. Both men played exceptionally well, covering every inch of the court, and becoming involved in some amazingly long, exciting rallies. Even the commentators on the BBC were awestruck by the tennis that was being played. And both men seem to have realised that they were doing something special too. In the paper, yesterday, Djokovic commented: "I've had some epic matches and some long five-setters ... but I know that I have been pushed to the limit today. It was one of the most thrilling matches that I have ever played, especially here in Wimbledon. It was high-quality tennis from the first to the last point." And Del Potro commented "This match is going to be remembered for a few years." Yes, I think it will be.

Part of the pleasure of watching it for me was in having played tennis myself, as a girl, and therefore knowing quite how amazing some of the play was, in contrast to anything I could ever have done. It was a real pleasure to watch their expertise, and to relish the clever play.

And this was part of what I enjoyed about yesterday's event too - my husband and I joined 60+ other Unitarians from the Midlands and South Wales in a visit to the National History Museum in St. Fagan's, near Cardiff. It is a wonderful outdoor museum, which consists of fifty-odd houses and cottages, and a couple of churches (including Pen Rhiw Unitarian Chapel), which have been moved from their original locations all over Wales, and lovingly re-assembled on one site, to preserve Welsh architectural and way-of-life heritage. And it is splendid. We saw inside all sorts of buildings, from the medieval church which has been re-painted inside as it might have been back in the day, with bright instructive scenes from the life and passion of Jesus (see above), through Tudor and Georgian buildings, to a post-war pre-fab. But my favourite was a terrace of five houses, two-up, two-down, which had been refurbished in varying styles from the early 19th century to 1985, and you could walk into each one, noticing the changes - from paintings to photos, from hard wood, to soft furnishings and so on. It was fascinating.

What it had in common with Friday's tennis match was the loving care and expertise which lay behind the experience that I had come along and enjoyed. Both events were a tribute to the hard work and skill of the people involved. And the dedication, and the belief that what they are doing matters. And being aware of this lying behind both events made the pleasure keener.