Written by Mark
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Thursday, 5 July 2001

I was watching tennis last night on the telly, and I didn't quite understand what it was about. Two people just hitting a ball around, I mean come on! At least with football you have some kind of team action going on. But with tennis it's just like, what?!

I mean I can understand the women's matches, at least then you've got something nice to watch bouncing up and down the screen in a nice gym-skirt or whatever. I can cope with the doubles games too. But watching two men hit a furry greeen ball around a patch of grass/clay at hundreds of miles per hour just doesn't cut it for me.

I want action. I want violence. I want fast-moving down right dirty deeling. I want to see Henman beat up the umpire dude when they say the ball was out but he thinks it was in. I want to see Sampras slapping one of the ball girl's ass before he begins a new set. Is that too much to ask?

All this genlemanly ettiquette of Wimbledon really gets on my hooters, it really does. So, if you're reading this tennis stars, take heed, make it more fun.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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