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Tonight we played our tennis final at the courts where I was taken, as a six week old in a carry basket, to wait by the side of the court while my tennis mad parents played a set or two. Or ten thousand. Although it is now a well maintainted local park, in those days the courts backed on to the home ground of our favourite football team. As my dad was also on the grounds commitee, our whole family had membership medallions and we religiously attended every home match each winter season. Tonight I remembered the heady mix of excitement and self importance experienced by my seven year old self as I approached the gate under the centre entry gable of this structure, medallion swinging on my coat lapel, and passed all those less fortunate fans still queuing at the other gates.
