Naked Hero - The Journey Away

superstitions – what would a tennis final be without them?

Chapter 58
    It was the noise that struck him first as fifteen thousand voices rang around the stadium - then the artificial light, flashing of cameras, the heat and the humidity all added to the effect.
    Despite the heat, Lewis kept on his new training jacket, which covered the shirt that lay beneath. It stayed there as the umpire called the players to the net for the toss, which Jackson won, electing to serve. It was only removed as the warm up began and the shirt was revealed. Each side displayed a dancing white skeleton and a pair of yellow crossed spears, over a background pattern in hues of brown and red. On the front, the skeleton was upright, and on the back a sort of handstand was being performed. It took a few moments for those seated nearest the court to see the design and react to it, but slowly the cheers started, and grew louder as realisation spread further back. Then the stadium erupted as on the big screen the camera zoomed in on Lewis and everyone could see the design. Following his ritual, Lewis acknowledged the cries with a smile and a nod, and then blocked them out. Lee had been right. The crowd loved it. He had given him a key: loud and proud - now it was time to play.
    It took a couple of games for both men to settle down and find their range and touch: Lewis having to fight the hardest to hold his opening serve. But both quickly got into their rhythm and started going for their shots, testing each other out, biding their time, waiting for a glimmer of an opportunity to be pounced on.
    Nothing came. There was some fabulous tennis but no real threat to either player’s serve. A tie-break was the inevitable conclusion to the opening set. Again this went with serve until the change of ends at three all. Jackson rushed to get to the other side - he liked to be there and waiting, forcing the pace – a little ritual that Lewis was perfectly aware of. Lewis normally rushed as well, as that was the nature of his game – but on this occasion he took his time, stopping for a drink at his chair, which technically wasn’t allowed, but no one ever enforced the rule. He calmed himself as he walked to the other end – the serve was with him, and a lapse in concentration at this critical stage could see the set go. After almost an hour of hard graft from both players, only a few points would now decide who took the opener.
    Five bounces of the ball then wallop! Not quite an ace, but Jackson’s return had no control on it and flew well over the line. “4-3 Macleod,” came the umpire’s call. The pressure was now well and truly with the American.
    A w allop came back at him! Lewis got nowhere near it. Jackson’s fifth ace of the match levelled the score.
    Wallop again!
    “Out!” called the line judge – a welcome cry to young Macleod’s ears.
    Pressure! Pressure! Keep the pressure on! Lewis moved in for an all out attack on the second serve - half a step nearer than he’d stood to return the earlier ones.
    A rush of blood perhaps, such things can happen, even to the most phlegmatic of player’s - but as he saw Lewis step forward for the return, Jackson went for too much and the serve went long. An unexpected gift that was graciously accepted. Lewis calmed himself down, and with balls of granite, served out to take the opening set.
    The Aussie crowd went crazy! They had really taken to the underdog Scotsman with his notorious reputation, tattooed sleeve, flamboyant biff bash tennis, and even more flamboyant Aboriginal gear. Few thought that he’d actually go on to win, but he was certainly going to put up a heck of a good show. It would be no one-sided affair like the previous night’s final.
    The cheering subsided as the players took to their chairs, but rang again, along with a splattering of good-natured wolf whistles, as Lewis pulled out another shirt from his bag and changed into it. His personal favourite: the Emu Ghosts. He’d chosen this as a potential moral boaster in case he lost the first set like he’d done at Wimbledon. Superstition demanded that he didn’t change the order, however, so now it would be used instead to ride the momentum having taken the early lead. Getting to his feet, Lewis acknowledged the cheering crowd with a smile. Then he refocused - it was only one set that he had won, and he was far from home.
    Only one set, b ut Jackson was rocking. The pressure was really on now and Lewis could see that the