Skriver Lionel Shriver. Här beskriver hon varför tennis är en så underbar sport. Läs, ni som inte förstår min och andras kärlek till denna syssla.
The sun is high, and hot on your shoulders. The leaves of the maples are rustling. The sock of the ball in the sweet spot resonates deep in your diaphragm. Your feet are light. On breaks, the cold tap water in your rinsed-out Campari bottle tastes better than champagne. Your partner is, in his way, a kind of beloved. When you are finished, deliciously tired, you will sit on your usual bench and talk about your day. This is life, this is good life, this is as good as life can be.
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