I love watching sports with my husband. And I love dressing up appropriately.
I’ll put on my Liverpool shirt when we’re about to watch our beloved Reds. And I’ll put on my 49ers jersey when the Niners continue their quest for six.
But now it’s tennis time as the Wimbledon Championships are under way. I love the game even though I don’t really have a favourite player.
(Unlike my husband whose all-time fave is John McEnroe who is also a terrific commentator for the BBC, by the way.)
Probably, the clothing I’m wearing doesn’t really qualify as tennis attire. Yet, it’s the closest thing to a tennis dress that I possess. (Memo to Hubby!)
Playing on the centre court must be an unbelievable feeling. You can tell by watching it on TV that it must be a magic atmosphere around the whole place. 🙂
I heard they also hold wheelchair competitions at Wimbledon. Maybe, I should take some tennis lessons and enter the Championship next year. 😉
My husband, Harry, might teach me. He used to be quite a decent player when he was younger (and slimmer).
He says he has always regretted that he never got to play on a grass court. Going pro, however, was out of the question for a variety of reasons.
For instance, his service was just not good enough, Harry says.
Well, I can’t complain about his service. He served me strawberries and creme during a rain delay. 😉