No. 1219: The winners

Jaspistos reports: Competitors were asiced a for an aghast radio commentary durillgto Wimbledon match surpassing anything date in the way of outrageous behaviour On the part of players, officials and/or spec- tators. Scenes of embarrassment and heel/ra- ce worthy of illustration by either H. „ Bateman or Hieronymus Bosch were CcIL,'e jured up aplenty, but the heat and the humidity seem to have sapped yntiLiiii: agination a bit, for there wasn't much iety. The Centre Court streaker era' s, with monotondus regularity, lad,ice doubles finals degenerated into lesbian Iced; for-ails, Molotov cocktails from the stall.f.f added to the difficulty of smashing in a stiff added

It was all rather predictable. Am; those who managed to surprise me wa Smith: 'Well the mess has been cleaned up now, but really the authorities must look in- to this problem. No one these days minds the players praying for victory, but surely Ibrahim is going too far in ritually slaughtering a bullock before each set? ...' John Sweetman's linesperson, deliberately served at by an infuriated player, had his white stick knocked into the air and his

dark glasses broken. And I liked Desmond's cotrunentator's comment after describing a Particularly nasty scene: 'Only the thin red

line of Chelsea pensioners remains un- moved.'

Only four winners, who receive £10 each, managed to breach my own critical thin red line this week. Perhaps the real Wimbledon later this month will supply the supreme in-

cident you were imaginatively groping for. If so, Dan Maskell's 'Oh, I say!' will seem

even more inadequate than usual.

4: I'm afraid it's not going to do his game much rod if he does that with his racket again. It's not going to do the line judge much good either, Max. 4: Still, it's Crass to serve at 30-15. Now what? B: It's a butterfly, Max. '4: A butterfly has settled on a lady's hat. And Crass does not like this one little bit.

B: He wants the lady thrown out, Max. I think that's what he's saying.

4: No, he wants the butterfly shot. He's calling

for the referee who is Yes, he's brought the shot-gun!

B: It's the lady he wants shot, Max. I can't say I blame him. Concentration is important to a player like Crass.

A: And the lady has realised. She's up, attemp- ting to wrong-foot Crass, who wants the gun himself. Oaf! The referee will feel that tomor- row!

B: Oh, good shot, Crass! (N. J. Warburton) He's dragging the line judge along the ground by her hair. Good gracious! He's rubbing her nose in the chalk on the sideline. Really, this is going too far! He's taking off his bandana and putting it over her eyes, as a blindfold. She's resisting, but he's forcing one of her arms up behind her back. Desmond, can you see, is she laughing or crying? Now who's this? A man in clerical kit has rushed over — Oh, my God! he has plunged a knife into Conroy's back — he's staggering about the court. I've never seen a crowd so ecstatic! Now what's Conroy doing? He's taken his mother's letter from under his sock — the one she instructed him to read when in a tight corner — and he's reading it. Oh, dear, he's tearing it into pieces! Desmond, what do you think should the umpire rule a let?

(Stanley Shaw) She's crawling under the net — is she going to concede? She's grabbed her hand, a sporting ges... No, Mrs Skjreiking is shrieking! Miss Naggabudgee, five games down in the second set, has bitten Mrs Skjreiking! I can see Mrs Skjreik- ing's blood from here, dripping down her forearm! The umpire doesn't know what to do, but the spectators are in no doubt, no doubt at all. They're throwing strawberries at the ball- boys. What do you make of that, Ken?

Ken: Sure. Shirley Naggabudgee has always had that little edge of aggression which makes her a great player. Jack?

Jack: Sure. She's got Liv Skjreiking by the throat now. I doubt that Liv can survive this treatment. Ken: And, Jack, she hasn't survived it! The ball- boys are dragging her away to the cremmie right now! So ends this ritual: something we still do rather well.

(Roger Jeffreys) The Centre Court has fallen silent, and well it might, for this Mixed Doubles final has taken a disgraceful turn. I'm sure the whole crowd heard Mr Porter tell Mrs Imbroglio — Christine Porter as we used to know her — that they should make it a proper love-match. Certainly when Mr Im- broglio made what he crudely referred to as a backhand pass at Mrs Porter, there were red faces in the Royal Box. And I don't think the umpire is helping matters by calling 'It was in' and 'Play on'. I'm sure there's something in the rules about changing partners. Well, this is ap- palling. I've often thought these skirts were pro- vocative; it couldn't have happened in Tilden's day. What? This is typical of the modern game; it all began with the grunting, and we can hear plenty of that at present ....

(Ellen Brigwell)