Naked Hero - The Journey Away

way to atone for the disgrace he’d brought on the family name. And at the tender age of twenty-one he did exactly that, returning to Wimbledon as a fast rising star, whose brilliance was still relatively unknown to the unsuspecting British public – a state that was due to change in the most dramatic fashion!
    After only six months on the main ATP tour he wasn’t even seeded. But for those in the know the promise was clear having claimed some big scalps and made a final in Dubai with an attacking style of tennis that took opponents by surprise. Serve and volley! It was an approach that supposedly belonged to the past when three of the four slams were played on grass. With much of the turf now dug up and replaced by cement or synthetic polymers, the modern game had slowed down and was played mainly from the baseline... except that is during the last three weeks of June and the first few days of July when lawn tennis makes its annual return to its green grass roots of home.
    It started low key – well the first ten minutes was fairly tame, after that it was an explosion no one could have predicted. The organisers put him on an outside court, which was only fair and proper. He was lowly ranked at just inside the top fifty, not yet a household name - and there was that inglorious reputation involving recreational drugs that made for an unfortunate taste in the mouths of the powers that be within the sport. There was also the ‘sleeve’ that Lewis had acquired during his two year sabbatical from the main tour – a Mouri style tattoo that covered his right shoulder and all of his serving arm – not exactly the preferred image in the prim and proper eyes of the All England Club members who determined the schedule and the right to play on the coveted show courts.
    The ground ticket holders like it though! Especially the young ladies who thought he looked at treat – unusually edgy with the tattooed arm that was fully displayed by his sleeveless top, muscles aplenty on a seriously fit body, youthfully handsome with dark brooding looks, and a killer of a smile that got flashed more and more as Lewis eased into the attention that quickly mounted when he started to take his opponent apart. The fact that he was winning, and doing it in style, was an added bonus to the impressionable fillies, and an all too rare treat for the true connoisseurs of the beautiful grass court game. But whatever the view in the eyes of the beholders, one thing was for sure: there was a new exciting look to the sport of lawn tennis... and surprise, surprise – it came wrapped in a British flag. It took an hour and forty minutes to win in three comfortable sets, by the end of which Lewis was semi-famous. He was talked about and texted about on smart looking phones; he was tweeted about and trended all over the internet. He was read about in newspapers and briefly shown on television. Then two days later with a clarion cry - everyone from Land’s End to John O’Groats knew who the blighter was!
    His second round match was against an Argentinean - the number four seed and losing finalist from the year before. With all the other home players already annoyingly sent packing, there was no alternative for the reluctant organisers but to put him on Centre Court - the recently roofed Mecca of tennis.
    There were nerves of course for young Mr. Macleod, there always was at the start of his matches. But mainly it was excitement that Lewis felt– it was a long cherished dream to appear on this stage and now it had come to pass. The ultimate dream was five matches away, but this would do for a start. As it happened, those nerves played little part in deciding the outcome. Latin temperament and a partisan crowd played a much bigger role. It was all over after Lewis won the first set on a tie-break. The crowd went berserk... and so did his opponent.
    Spanish: such a fabulous language, with a range of expletives that are second to none. Fortunately, few at courtside were blessed with the linguistic gift, and those who had mastered the odd word before heading off to the Costa’s for their week or two in the sun, were not versed in the choice phrases that were uttered that day. They passed everyone by, including the umpire. The only thing that didn’t get passed was Lewis. He was there at the net like a pouncing panther crunching everything away.
    Game, set and match!
    As he sat at the bar looking at his own image, Lewis cast his mind back to that June