It's called simply 'The Championships'. Think about it! The other three Grand Slams of tennis are: The Australian Open, The French Open, and The US Open. Ever heard of the British Open? Or heaven forbid - The English Open! No - it is Wimbledon, or The Championships, played on grass like lawn tennis should be... Is it any wonder that's it's viewed as the Holy Grail of Tennis? You'd have to be a clay court specialist to disagree.
Winning Wimbledon was Lewis Macleod's dream - a dream he shared with his father. And winning Wimbledon became his obsessive goal once his father passed away. It was my dream as well as a kid. I used to watch The Championships each year on TV and imagine it was me who was there in the final, serving an ace to clinch the title and then parading round Cente Court, showing off the trophy to the delighted home fans. So I suppose I started writing Naked Hero decades ago. Some of the scenes were there in my head, crystal clear, before I put pen to paper. Of course growing up in a mining village with little facilities and no encouragement, I was never going to be good enough even if I did have a modicum of talent. But I could dream, and then I could write... And people can read and live the dream as well.
Here's a liittle snippet....
Winning Wimbledon was Lewis Macleod's dream - a dream he shared with his father. And winning Wimbledon became his obsessive goal once his father passed away. It was my dream as well as a kid. I used to watch The Championships each year on TV and imagine it was me who was there in the final, serving an ace to clinch the title and then parading round Cente Court, showing off the trophy to the delighted home fans. So I suppose I started writing Naked Hero decades ago. Some of the scenes were there in my head, crystal clear, before I put pen to paper. Of course growing up in a mining village with little facilities and no encouragement, I was never going to be good enough even if I did have a modicum of talent. But I could dream, and then I could write... And people can read and live the dream as well.
Here's a liittle snippet....
Lewis shifted on his stool as he recalled the scene, or the little of it he could remember beyond what televised replays had shown him. It all became a bit of a blur after the winning shot: the falling to his knees; looking up to his box; shaking hands at the net; leaping around like a maniac; then sitting on his chair in a complete and utter daze as he waited on the presentation. Clarity sharpened when it came to the trophy. Lewis certainly remembered getting that handed to him by a charming young prince who was in line to be king. He accepted it with glee and showed it to the crowd then took a good look at it for himself... And there it was already carved on the cup, the latest addition to the role of champions – the Macleod family name with honour restored, etched onto a trophy that was revered beyond all others in the
sport. On seeing it his face erupted with happiness. Lewis threw a look to the sky and offered up some words, and then kissed the cup as the poster shot was taken capturing his joy for prosperity.
sport. On seeing it his face erupted with happiness. Lewis threw a look to the sky and offered up some words, and then kissed the cup as the poster shot was taken capturing his joy for prosperity.