Naked Hero - The Journey Away

but no reckless stuff mind. Stay with him, but take your chance to attack when it comes. There’s no point defending all the time against Gonzales, he’ll wear you down, and you know it. Keep the points short if you can, better to lose it early, than lose it after a long rally, because if it’s a long rally, then you’re not going to come out on top too often. Short and sweet, Lewis; don’t let him get any rhythm. Get him rattled.”
    “Aye, like I got him rattled the last three times we played, I know,” said Lewis with a sarcastic grin, which quickly turned into a smile before he continued with the practice.
    But Lewis had a point. Jim knew that they needed to come up with something different to try. He thought about the other meeting which was arranged for later in the afternoon. Perhaps there he would find the answer to the second week of the tournament.
    “ There is a way, Lewis,” he whispered, as the session came to a close. “We just need to look in the right place. I hope I can find it for you.”
    J im was still pondering his strategy thirty minutes later when Lewis returned from the locker room freshly showered after his practice session.
    “You take the car, Lewis,” announced the coach throwing the keys at him. “I’ll get a taxi back. I’ve got a couple of people to see this afternoon. Mike will do some stretching work with you when you get back. Nothing else mind - just relax.”
    “Sure, Jim!” the lad replied, pocketing his catch. “But I’m going to take a stroll around first, if that’s okay. I want to get the feel of the place again.”
    “There’s no rush, Lewis, take your time. I’ll see you back at the house later,” said Jim, slapping the boy on the back before wandering off.
    Lewis followed him with his eyes, and noted that he was heading in the direction of the show courts in the centre of the complex. ‘It won’t be a court he’s off to, though,’ thought Lewis. ‘Maybe he’s meeting with the organisers, or the ATP. Shit! I bet it’s the fine. I just know those bastards are going to clobber me. Oh well, nothing I can do about it, just take it on the chin and move on.’
    As he watched Jim disappear around a corner, Lewis gazed at the arenas which dominated the view in front of him, silently praying that he would have the chance to play on one of them again this year. In the distance, the smallest of the three, was the Margaret Court Arena. He’d played there twice already, winning on both occasions. To the right and slightly in front lay the Hisense Arena, where he had lost the previous year to the eventual winner of the tournament, Tommy Jackson. A bit of a grudge match people had said, as it was Jackson whom Lewis had beaten in the final at Wimbledon six months earlier. Lewis had never played on the other court, the Rod Laver Arena, a massive complex which dominated its surroundings, and where in just over two weeks time the Norman Brookes Challenge Cup would be presented to the Men’s Singles champion. ‘All in good time,’ thought Lewis, ‘all in good time. It’s Court Five I need to have a look at now.’
    Court Five was where Lewis was scheduled to play his opening match of this year’s tournament – a stroke of luck as far as the young Scotsman was concerned as he didn’t want a big crowd for that particular encounter. But there would be a crowd of sorts, and not too modest in size either! That became blatantly obvious to Macleod as he stood in front of the court. It was surrounded by four small stands which could accommodate several hundred people. Hardly the fifteen thousand capacity of the Rod Laver Arena, but more than enough to make life awkward should they decide to turn against one of the players. ‘Nothing I can do about that either,’ he thought, then turned away and headed back towards the car park.
    He didn’t go very far before he spotted Chantal practising on one of the other play courts – an impressive allocation – a privilege afforded to the defending champion. With no pressing need to get back to the house, Lewis decided to stop and watch her for a few moments. But reluctant to interrupt her session in any way, he hovered at the entrance, debating if he should go in. It was from there that he noticed Marie sitting in one of the stands, her attention alternating between Chantal and a notebook which she occasionally wrote in. She eventually spotted Lewis, and beckoned him to join her.
    “Hi, Marie, how’s it going?” he