Middle Man

Well that's it at long last. Switzerland's 6 month wait for a 'Grand Slam' trophy is finally over. They were 'dancing in the streets' of Berne on Sunday morning - whilst poor Andy retreated to his cave in the Highlands, with only tears for souvenirs.

Roger Federer is a phenomenal tennis player, but there's something about him that makes me want to punch him on the nose. Apart from being iritatingly good looking, he has a lovely wife, millions in his Swiss bank, his own cosmetic range, a gold rimmed kit bag, and speaks four different languages. To compound it all, he has even stolen the heart of my favourite rally partner - well that's another story!

On Monday morning, blearly eyed and still battle fatigued, I turned on Radio 2 just as Chris Evans was announcing to the nation that the great man has a flaw. Yes - Mr Perfect Federer has got a bit of a tummy. Of course, when he changed shirts after the 2nd set in Melbourne, all females eyes on the planet were honed in on his Amazon chest - I wonder if he combs it (oops touch of jealousy there) - but the Swiss roll round his middle was there for all to see.

Now I'm going to stop all this churlish talk - but remain focused on Roger's middle. One of the reason's the world's greatest never gets hurt is because he is so perfectly balanced. Have you noticed how he glides across the court. He has "dynamic balance" - the ability to keep his centre of gravity inside his base of support (the area between his feet) even when stretched to play a shot. As tennis players, it's something we can all learn from, even by just keeping our feet slightly wider apart and bending our knees.

As for Andy - well only tough guys cry (I have a Masters degree in it) and one day he'll slip under the radar and win a Slam - when nobody's watching. Aye, right!!

Ps Did you notice the stain on RF's white linen jacket?

Pps Speaking of Chris Evans, you probably don't read my blog Christoff but thanks for playing my favourite song every Monday morning.

Big Snow

Welcome to the New Year!

Ok I'm a bit late - but the last couple of weeks has been something else!

My normal route into Edinburgh takes me past the courts at Mortonhall. People of all ages play there in wind, rain, storm and tempest, 24/7, every month of the year. Foolhardy perhaps but I admire them for their stoic perseverance, their courage in the face of adversity, their strength of character -well you get my drift. Call me a wimp if you wish but, at this time of year, I'm happier with a smooth dry surface and a roof over my head.

Over the past 10 days, the courts at Mortonhall have been empty. You can play in all weathers but you can't when you are up to the eye balls in snow - and we've had the white stuff in abundance since Christmas. Great if your hobby is skiing, sledging or sitting in front of the telly. Not so good if you are a tennis player.

Take heart. Today the temperature leapt to 3.5 degrees (almost shorts and T shirt weather). The days are definitely getting longer - Spring is not that far off.

Have a good 2010 all you tennis addicts out there - and roll on those lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer.

Mistletoe and Wine?

This time of year can be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster and I was feeling distinctly 'wobbly' the other morning when I took Toff to the vet for her MOT.

I was half expecting a reprimand for weight gain (the dog - not me!) but as it turned out she was deemed to be in excellent health with a 'wonderful' heart for her age. Ah now I know where she gets that from!

For a brief moment I was tempted to throw my arms round the vet in gratitude and give her a smacker on the cheek. On the basis that she had a needle in her hand (and looked about 15) , I decided against it - but it was a close thing.

This is a strange time of year - and for those who are apart from loved ones, or experiencing hard times, it can be a very sad period. Andre Agassi once described playing tennis as "the closest thing to solitary confinement" and Christmas can be like that for many people.

Of course Andre was referring to the times when things were going against him - something Amelie Mauresmo experienced so often in the French Open. In these circumstances, the tennis court can be a very lonely place.

In reality, life is not always as it appears to be and that certainly applies at Christmas.

Thank-you everyone who has sent me cards or gifts - each one is special and appreciated.
May 2010 bring you good fortune and happy times, on and off the court.

Colin

Chalk Flew Up .......

Last week, a certain talented footballer by the name of Thierry Henry decided to have a game of 'keepie uppie' whilst playing for France against Ireland. The only problem was he used his hands instead of his feet - which of course is cheating. Worse still, the goal that followed knocked the Irish out of the World Cup.

Now I don't know what the referee is doing this weekend, but I reckon he should be heading for his nearest Specsavers.

Where I come from, football referees are either brainless, or blind, but of course I am a Hearts supporter!

Now we all know what John McEnroe thinks of tennis umpires, although he has mellowed over the years. But even the most courteous and mild mannered tennis pros have had aberrations over line calls. Back in 2001, Andy Roddick had a total meltdown in the US Open and lost the final set against Lleyton Hewitt. More recently, Serena Williams lost the plot after being foot-faulted and, in Miami, Roger 'the Gentleman' Federer smashed his best racket into a thousand pieces.

The question is - what should you do if you've had a bad line call, or even worse a few them in a row. Well, first thing to remember is that umpires don't cheat, nor do the vast majority of players. So you've got to let it go very quickly - if you become heated or frustrated, or dwell on things, then you're playing into the hands of your opponent, and will lose the match.

So it's best just to focus on the next point, take a few deep breaths, and repeat to yourself "I am in control".

Man - you cannot be serious............

Repeat After Me..........

For those of you who don't know Edinburgh, a beautiful parkland lies to the south of the city centre called The Meadows.

I often walk up Middle Meadow Walk to the city, and just where various paths intersect, there is a Big Issue seller. Now you actually hear him about 100 metres away with his cry of "Can I interest you in the Big Issue". However, because he repeats this call at least twice a minute, to the uninformed it sounds more like "in stress you in big shoe" - so you might think he's some sort of footwear specialist.

In Dundee, in the 60's, I recall a dusky man in a grey raincoat and bonnet, who stood at the foot of Reform Street. Every few seconds he would shout "Telly Telly Graf". Now you might think he was announcing the arrival of Steffi on the tennis scene - but in fact he was selling the Dundee Evening Telegraph.

I once read that if you stood in front of a mirror and repeated "you are so handsome" over and over again then eventually you would look like George Clooney. Well it's not worked for me so far but I do believe in this theory.

Psychological research has shown that repetitive negative self talk is associated with losing. So in tennis, there is great value in repeating to yourself that you are a fine player, rather than constantly thinking "my backhand is rubbish". In simple terms don't think what you mustn't do or shouldn't do - think what you "could", "can" or "will" do!!

So for the guys out there, repeat after me...............

"I can serve like Federer!"

"I can hit forehands like Federer"

"I have a bank balance like Federer"

Ah now we're dreaming......................

Do you need a bag?

The other day, on opening the car boot outside the tennis centre, I was hit by a sudden gust of wind.

Such was the velocity, two extremely precious Marks & Spencer carrier bags took off and sped across the car park.

Now not too long ago, realising I would have to cough up 5p x 2, I would been off after them at high speed, leaping over cars or any other obstacle in the process. This time, however, I waved them good-bye, hoping they would find a good home somewhere down by Leith docks (that's where they were heading!)

On the tennis court, when one because less fleet of foot, there has to be an acceptance that you can't chase down balls as you did in your 20's

Have you ever watched skilled 'senior' players and wondered why they never do any running yet seem to get to every shot? Well here's the secret. Smart players move while the ball is on the other side of the net - they anticipate the return and get into position early.

As your mobility decreases, it is also essential that you shrink the court. This means playing more balls in mid court, hitting deep angles volleys, drop shots or anything else in your repertoire. But don't get stranded in 'no person's land' (very pc!) in doubles, leaving your partner scuttling around the baseline.

The one real problematic shot is the ball that lands at your feet. As a spotty teenager, you would let it bounce then charge after it to the back of the court. As elegant seniors, we don't want to do that - instead we should take the ball on the rise, as a short hop or half vollley.

The secret of this shot is to bend your knees and stay low throughtout the stroke (the sounds of the ball hitting the court followed by the racket contacting the ball should be almost simultaneous). This shot requires little effort - but a lot of practice!

So think variety, placement and accuracy - and save your feet for the late night dancin'!

Man or Woman

Have you been following the story about a certain Caster Semenya, the new women's world 800 metres champion. Such was the wide margin of her victory, those in 'authority' thought she must be a man.

Now I've been accused of many things in my time but never been mistaken for the opposite sex - though in a senior moment I did once stray into the ladies changing room in our local sports centre. The fact that several scantily glad young ladies ignored me totally did little for my ego!

Now whilst on the subject of gender dubiety, during a visit to New York last February, I was picked up by a 'female' taxi driver outside Grand Central Station. Looks wise, she could have been Charles Bronson's twin. Driving wise, she must have trained on Blackpool's dodgem cars. During the short journey down a packed 5th Avenue, our speed got up to 70 mph and we had numerous 'near misses' , including several innocent pedestrians trying to cross the road.

She was probably aged around 35 but looked 75, having spent her working life with a pulse rate around 130. But she was female, there was no doubt about that!

I am tempted at this point to bring my 'mother-in-law' into the equation but wont!

However, whilst still on dangerous ground, can I just mention the two top ladies tennis players in the world - Serena and Safina. Now there is no doubting their sexuality, but both are built like tanks and have muscles straight from the front page of Men's Health magazine.

The big difference is that they are both supreme athletes, in comparison with the jam doughnut days of the 60's and 70's..............

Before naming names, I will stop right here whilst I still have an exit!