Wimbledon Page #2

- He's sitting over there. Look.|- Oh, my God.

Shouldn't he be off|discovering masturbation?

I played him in Bogot. He's like|all young men, out to kill the father.

Like all young men,|he must first be taught humility.

Exactly. And you taught him that|in Bogot?

Sadly, no. He killed the father.|Straight sets.

Watch out for his backhand.

[gulls cry]

[horse-racing commentary on TV]

[man] Yeah, six-to-four on, apparently.

Twenty pound to win, Ajay Bhatt.

Hold on, isn't he playing your brother?

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Yeah, but curiously, I'm not.

- [announcer] 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.

This is what it looks like.

for 25 years.

Six million balls. And it all ends here.

At two in the afternoon on Court 17,

for the latest Russian teenage beauty.

make it last a little while.

[man] Come on, Pete.

Good luck, Mr Colt.

Thank you.

Bhatt to serve. First set.

Right, then.

[umpire] Play.

- [grunts]|- [grunts]

[polite applause]

Love-15.

[Peter] OK, nice. Not embarrassing.

and you've got it in the bag.

Oi, bloody rabbit, shoo!

[cheering on television]

- [John Barrett] Our first match point.|- [Edward Colt] Come on.

with new-found confidence today.

Colt serves, wide to Bhatt's forehand.

[Edward] Yes, get it. Yes, good shot.

Well done, come on.

- [cheering on TV]

[Edward] He's done it! He's done it!

He's through round one.

Not interested.

What?

- Not interested.|- Oh, suit yourself.

So you think that kid has a future?

Yes, I do. I expect one day to be|the answer to the trivia question

"Who beat Ajay Bhatt|in his first ever Grand Slam?"

- What Wimbledon is this for you?|- My 13th, actually.

And since this may be my last|Wimbledon press conference,

- I'd like to take the opportunity to...|- [reporter] Jake!

- announce my retirement from...|- Jake!

- ...tennis|- [all shout questions]

- [cameras click]|- That's my retirement from tennis.

[all talk at Jake]

Effective the moment|this tournament ends.

[hubbub]

Tomorrow, rear entrance, nine o'clock|sharp. We can avoid all of this.

Excuse me, please. Come on, sweetheart.

Lizzie. Lizzie.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Excuse me.

[beeps] You have one new message.

[beeps]

You still owe me fish and chips.

Uh, say seven o'clock, room 1221.

- That's my 1221.|- Oh, bollocks!

- [knock]|- [Lizzie] It's open.

in the northern sky.

the comet gained its name

in the South Pacific.

it's appeared,

for the next two weeks.

- Hi.|- Hi.

- Two fish and chips as promised.|- Um...

- What?|- Let me just...

Oh, jeez. How embarrassing.

- Are you hungry?|- Um, not quite.

- I've got a question for you.|- Right.

Where do you come down on the|fooling-around-before-a-match issue?

- That's a very intriguing question.|- Cos I think a little fooling around

can be really good for your game.|You know, help you relax.

Um, I'm not sure I've done enough|research to have a definitive opinion.

- That's very sad.|- Yes, it is, isn't it? It is...

It's very sad.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very interested|in doing the necessary research.

- Are you?|- I'm interested.

Peter...

No-one can know about this, OK?

Really? I had been planning|a brief press statement.

Seriously. Especially my dad.

He says if there's a guy around,|my first serve gets mushy.

You can't win with a mushy serve.

No. So we'll keep it light, OK?

Absolutely fine with me.|We'll just keep it fun and...

[both] Relaxed.

Good.

Peter?

Excellent, more research.

[John Barrett] Another point lost.

on this court,

known as the "Graveyard of Champions".

has been less than inspired.

[Peter] Oh, God, I'm tired. So tired.

Stay up all night doing research?

You're bound to be exhausted.

- [John Barrett] What a pity.

by two sets to one.

Hello, do you mind?

[commentary on TV]

Oh, bugger. And he was doing so well.

Don't write him off yet, Pauline.

Some young men, I find, have a stamina|that's really quite deceptive.

He did win the French Open.

Three games? Three lousy games.

and you got three games?

[umpire] Time.

- [Peter] It's pathetic.|- [man] Come on, Peter!

to see you lose.

Come on, Peter!

[Peter] Oh, great.

[man] Come on, Pete!

[grunts]

- [umpire] Love-15.

top-ten player in two years is at 5-4,

three points from winning the match.

[umpire] 30-love.

- You were with me last match.|- Yes, sir. Brilliant play, sir.

- Could I trouble you?|- Sorry.

[cheers of support]

- 40-love.

And we have our first match point.

[man] Come on, Peter.

- [umpire] Game, set, match, Colt.

has defeated the French Open champion

to advance to the third round.

[umpire] 6-4, 4-6, 2-6, 7-5, 6-4.

- [crowd boo and jeer]|- [Dragomir yells]

Peter, this way, please.

- Thought I'd done my last one of these.|- [man] So did we.

[laughter]

[man] Peter, did you know Dragomir

is the first seeded player|you've defeated in three years?

Yes, two months and 14 days,|but who's counting?

What do you think|of your next opponent?

In all the excitement, I haven't|even checked to see who it is.

[woman] It's your practice partner,|Dieter Prohl.

Two friends now face each other as|enemies. lntriguing existential dilemma.

Room 1221, please. Bradbury.

Is your elbow playing up?

If I admit that,|you may use it to your advantage.

Wow, that's terrible.|Is that what our friendship's come to?

Dodgy shoulder, maybe? Have you?

Most everything aches.|What doesn't, I can't feel at all.

Hello? Hello?!

We should still practise|and stick to the routine.

The hotel offered me a better room|and I told them "I'm on a roll."

At such moments,|superstition's all we have.

Even when I'm taking a sh*t,|I must do it exactly the same.

I'd never thought of that,|that's genius.

Think of everything important,|do it the same. Wait a minute.

That's OK, put me through.

Lizzie, don't say a word. I was thinking|a repeat of the other night,

like fish and chips, early to bed...

Mr Bradbury, hello.

Mr Bradbury?

Damn.

- Yeah?|- Yeah.

[groans from crowd]

[woman speaks ltalian]

Peter.

Come sta?

You are the Dragomir slayer.

How are you? You look a million lire.

Thank you. I try.|Do you know my partner, Sophia?

- No. Hi.|- Nice to meet you.

- So?|- I'm looking for Lizzie Bradbury.

- Have you seen her?|- No. You should ask Jake Hammond.

- Oh, really? Why?|- Why do you think?

Oh, right.

Ciao.

- Good luck tomorrow.|- Thank you.

- Looking for someone?|- Yeah... Yeah, yes.

It wouldn't happen to be my daughter?

Yes, it would.

- It's Colt, right?|- Yes, but please call me Peter.

Lizzie's on a roll now and I don't|want her to have any distractions.

Right. Of course.

Sorry, just to clarify,|do you see me as a distraction?

That's exactly how I see you.

So stop looking for her,|stop calling her,

stop coming around, stop every damn|thing that involves my daughter.

Is that clear?

[crack of thunder]

[groans from crowd]

[Dieter] In a few thousand years, the|English will have evolved webbed feet.

Yes, about the same time the first|German evolves a sense of humour.

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