The first of many.

Would you believe it, we had actually got this far, we had actually found the motivation to get up and about to do something worthwhile. Normally ideas like this we came up with had fallen by the wayside and were swiftly forgotten about, but here we were, barely 9 o’clock in the morning, walking out onto a rundown set of tennis courts which bared little resemblance to the All England Tennis Club we had really wanted this to occur on. There was no cheering, no crowds and no trophy come the end of it for the winner, but that didn’t matter, there was to be one winner from this, and both of us had the self belief it would be them.

The man who came out on top was to take a 1-0 lead in the competition we had set just days ago, so as you’d expect, there was no love lost between us, and the game was sure to have all the contents of such a bout. With everything that had been discussed and thought about over the past few days, we mentally prepared ourselves for the battle, stepped onto the court, and got ready to begin the biggest tennis game that had occurred between us, and believe me, there had been plenty to compare it to.
In the thought process of deciding our list of sports, tennis had always been right up there and for good reason. For one, there were plenty of courts in the local area to play it, but more importantly, the sport had sparked a vicious rivalry between us a few years prior in a summer which was filled with match upon match upon match. Thom had an unsuccessful time of it, not winning a single match, and had begun biding his time, waiting to get his revenge. Was this now his chance? In a match of the
utmost importance, as we began the warm up, we were about to find out.

A simple three times over system was employed to decide the opening server, and there was already controversy! Thom called out, Joel was unconvinced. The adjudicator sided with the former; Thom had won the first of many small battles and lined up for his opening service game. With the opening 3 games going with serve, neither player had really reached their stride, and when Joel produced a couple of double faults in the fourth game, Thom broke, and took a 3-1 lead. He focused, and began to look like the torrid summer in the past was well out of his head.

Game 5, Thom got himself to a 40-15 lead and looked good to go 4-1 up and be in a prime position to seize the opening set, however Joel produced a fantastic show of resilience to pull it to deuce, take the advantage and pull it to 3-2. And it was to get better for him. Another comeback, from 30-40 down this time and Thom’s earlier break now counted for nothing. The game was now perfectly balanced and with the next three games going with serve, including some incredible drop shots from Joel and some devastating backhands from Thom, the match moved to 5-4 in the latter’s  favour, leaving Joel to serve to save the set. Some frustrating tennis ensued for him in the next game and he squandered the set. Thom had taken a 1-0 lead.

A short break was had to replenish lost fluids and the second set began, Joel desperate to take it to a decider. Contrary to the first, where games went with serve, this one began with both players losing their opening service game. It was 1-1, and Thom began to suffer, and proceeded to lose the next three games on the spin. At 4-1, and Joel looking almost certain to get the decider he desperately desired, but much like the comeback Joel produced but failed to capitalise on in the first set, was replicated by Thom, this time, to devastating effect. Five games won on the trot destroyed any hope Joel had of a third set, and the anguish on his face was clearly visible after this hurtful 6-4 6-4 loss.

So the game was over, and not without pain. Joel was suffering from a slightly pulled groin/hamstring/groin (and obviously a fair amount of heartbreak), while Thom suspected a broken toe after an awkward landing towards the end, already there were clear signs that lack of training for these events could prove to be a hindrance, but Thom thought back to the conversation of not long ago to remind himself what was at stake... ‘150, I could beat you at 150 sports’ were the words he vividly remembered Joel saying. He’d already proved him wrong on one of them, but there was still plenty of sport to be played, and walking off the court, they both relished the chance to move on the their second bout. But right now, all they wanted was a trip to the pub for a little drink, and maybe a chance for Joel to get back, as he realised, the pub housed a fairly useful pool table. Would sport two come along sooner than hoped?