A Wimbledon Story

You say, “Why don’t you watch the Wimbledon? You should go and watch one match at least.” And I reply something about traveling and spending money on going to see places. But once I keep the phone down I think of her and I think of him and I think of them and Wimbledon. And naturally I smile.

It is 1992. Wimbledon quarterfinals. Andre Agassi is playing against Boris Becker. Though somehow my mind always recollects it as the final. Probably because that year Andre Agassi won the Championship. However I turn my thoughts back to them. He supports Becker and when inquired she replies Agassi. She watches the spark in his eyes dull a little on hearing these words. Becker wins the first set. Agassi the next two and then Becker the fourth set. With the final point earned Agassi wins the game, set, and match.

And he looks at her. For a moment. He who had been certain ever since the day they had met. She meets his gaze but she is the one who isn’t sure. And then Agassi wins the match. Did she feel it then? And even if she did, did she let herself believe that it was so?

Alas! We shall never know. For here the story ends. But I smile for I have faith in him. He who was sure all along. I am sure she’ll get there someday soon.