Wimbledon Page #5

- Everyone loves a winner.|- Everyone but the British.

[girls shout] Peter! Peter!

- [girl] Sign this, please?|- Thank you.

- See, I was right. Everybody loves you.|- Almost everybody.

[man] Go on, Liz. Oh, well played.

[umpire] 30-all.

What do you think makes her|so extraordinary?

No embarrassment, no fear.|She makes a decision, she goes for it.

It's a turn-on for the rest of us, cos|generally, we're all scared shitless.

- Even you?|- Me? I hate making decisions.

Like right now, I'm very, very afraid.

If you don't see that girl again,|it'll screw up your confidence.

On the other hand, I'm petrified that|if I tell you where she's camped out,

- her father will fire my ass.|- Where's the girl camped out?

- [player grunts]|- I made a decision.

leads four games to one, final set.

Me too.

[strains]

[dog snarls]

Oh, shh. No, no. Hi.

[growls]

It's not what you think, so don't...

[barks]

I'll jump. I'll jump.

I will. You want that|on your conscience?

Thank you.

[whispers] Lizzie? Lizzie?

Lizzie, it's me.

- [dog barks]|- Sh*t!

- [groans]|- [dog continues to bark]

Hey!

- Shut up!|- [ barking stops]

Noisy little sh*t.

Ow!

That hurt.

- Sh*t!|- [gasps]

- Bugger.|- Peter!

- Yeah.|- What are you doing here?

That's an excellent question.

The sad fact of the matter is I can't|get through 24 hours without you.

I've missed you, Peter Peter Colt.

You have?

- But I need you to go.|- No, You need me to stay.

- Peter.|- Lizzie.

People have fallen in love before,|you know.

Is that what we're doing here?

- Lucky you didn't get the wrong room.|- I did, your dad's a very quick shag.

- [bottles clink]|- [milkman whistles]

Have you seen it out?

and everything's for the best,

which means it can only get better

of Pierre Maroux.

thought we'd live so long to say that?

[winds up yawn]

[Tarzan-style call]

[clock ticks]

[grunts]

- [umpire] Game, Colt.

Wheaties. He's off to a roaring start.

these two met was the '97 US Open semis,

wants to wipe from memory.

opportunity of Colt's career:

and I don't think he's ever recovered.

by the smallest thing.

morning and something isn't right.

goes wrong.

And a seed of self-doubt is planted.

Lizzie! I love you!

feeling of doubt seems to look back.

all it takes is one point.

can make or break your confidence,

the outcome of the match.

- [grunts]|- [grunts]

- Advantage, Colt.

[cheering]

on Number 2 Court.

Peter Colt is firmly in control.

from a Wimbledon final on Sunday

against America's Jake Hammond.

[crowd all shout]

- [umpire] Quiet, please.

[Peter grunts]

[strains]

passing shot. Match point.

- He's having trouble getting up.

Peter Colt's clearly in pain.

- It's hard to tell.

who's captured the hearts...

Come on, Son.|Pick yourself up, you can do it.

Mr Colt, are you OK?

- It's my back.|- Can you get up?

- I'm not entirely sure.|- One more point, come on.

- He can't actually hear you.|- Oh, yes, he can.

of the Tom Cavendish match.

- He's back on his feet...|- Oh, yes, he can.

how much it's hurting.

- My God, the stress.|- How does he deal with it?

...against an English opponent...

How does who deal with it?

[cheering and whistling]

[cries of encouragement]

[groans]

- [crowd groans]|- [inhales]

[Peter] Oh, my back.

you're one point away from the final.

English guy in the finals, but come on.

[Peter] Remember Australia?

and what did you do? All right.

Colt is the luckiest man in tennis.

- [Peter] This is gonna hurt.|- [grunts]

Game, set and match, Colt.

[umpire] Colt wins three sets to love.

- 6-2, 6-1, 6-3.|- Yes!

I knew he could do it.

Who would've dreamt two weeks ago

that the man time had forgotten...

Rabbit.|Caught it messing with your lettuce.

Good man.

- Peter. Can we do a quickie?|- No, not right now.

[cheering]

How's she doing?

and Lizzie couldn't do anything right.

which Bradbury found very difficult.

Bugger.

It's not as if she can blame you, is it?

I told you I needed to focus,|to be away from you forjust a few days.

But instead you sneak into my room,|you don't even spend the night...

I thought you'd want the extra sleep.

...like I was some chick you picked up.

Well, this chick is going home|to work on her serve.

I am sorry about your match,|but please don't go.

Because you need to screw me|before the finals?

- That's why you think I'm here?|- It's not? Really?

Not even just a little bit?

[laughs] You see? I know you want me|to think we're in love or some bullshit,

but all you fell in love with this week|was winning.

- That is not true.|- Yes, it is.

And you know what? I love winning too.

More than anything. More than anyone.

You don't mean that.

I do. Love means nothing in tennis.|Zero. It only means you lose.

[door slams in background]

She's dropping her arm too soon|after the toss.

Honestly

Can I say

What I mean?

Don't you play with me

Cos I'm

A lady...

Clear your head, forget about her.|Love is sh*t, just like she said.

He's absolutely right. Just ask my|soon-to-be ex-wife. Ask all my ex-wives.

Thanks for the wisdom.|Shouldn't you be off sucking up to Jake?

[Ron] I did that at breakfast.

You're in the finals, it's time|to move on, same as she would.

- [doctor] Feel that?|- Ow!

I'll take that as a yes.|I'm not making any promises,

but if you keep relatively still,|you should be OK for the finals.

- Yes! We got it. Frito-Lay.|- What?

You are the new spokesperson for|their new chip: "Surprisingly Zesty".

- I've got to get out of here.|- No, you heard the doctor.

Let's get you some room service.

I would kill for another dozen... What|do you call those cucumber sandwiches?

- Cucumber sandwiches.|- You got a name for everything.

the Kuiper Belt comet Armstrong Flynn

after blazing for...

- There's a distance between us

And you take the blame

I know that you try

But at this stage of the game

I've started a new life

There's no turning back...

- Don't you know, can't you see?

I got over

Sometimes I wonder

Where this feeling began

[hysterical screams]

Deep in my heart

Right from the start

Right from the start

Tired and lonely

[engine revs, tyres screech]

I'll move on from this pain

I'm starting again

I'm breaking the chain...

- [dog snarls]|- Yeah, all right, I'm going.

I'm going.

[barks]

[woman moans with pleasure]

Oh, for God's sake, Carl.

[man and woman groan]

- Carl!|- [woman splutters]

- [rustling, chair leg scrapes]|- For God's sake...

Didn't I tell you always to knock|before entering a room?

It's a bit late now.|Come in and have some breakfast.

What do you want? Eggs and soldiers?

- Oh, eggs'll be fine.|- Sit down.

- Morning, Son.|- Where's the Marmite?

[birdsong]

[knocking]

Well, um... I'm out of the tree house.

Yeah, you certainly are.

Your mother and I seem to have found|some common ground at long last.

Really? What's that?

You, Peter.

You're, er, probably aware|that things have been a bit sticky

for the last few...|well, years, actually.

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