One of the big challenges I faced in writing Naked Hero - The Journey Away was dealing with the actual tennis. The book is based around the Australian Open, and that means seven matches in total for anyone lucky enough and talented enough to go all the way. Now tennis is fun to both play and watch, but in the modern men's game it can drag on a tad. The 2012 final in Melbourne between Rafa Nadal and Novak Djokovic lasted just short of six hours! How do you write something like that and keep the reader interested, and repeat it seven times over?
Of course I didn't even try. Edited highlights are what's served up, and only the very best bits. But even then, to make it more palatable, I found it best to use a different angle for each match. The first round is all about crowd trouble, so I write it inside Lewis's head - what he is thinking and experiencing. I just give the result of the second round and for the third I see it through Lee Porter's eyes, remotely on television from Sydney. It's not the actual match we see but Lee's consternation about the commentator - a certain Scott Taylor.
The fourth round match is a big one, in the Rod Laver Arena on the eve of Australia Day against a home favourite. But it is also Burns Night and I play on this, quoting the Bard before and after the match, which itself is kept to a paragraph. It is what is happening around the tennis that is more interesting - Lee Porter is in the supporters box, Scott Taylor is commentating, the crowd are on a high because tomorrow is there big day and fireworks will start at midnight. And in the press room hacks are getting busy, sussing out a story that has nothing to do with tennis. But the match still has to be covered. Sorry about the spoiler by giving away the result, but here's how it went, with a little bit of Burns paraphrased in there as well...
Another Scot had a plan, which Mr. Taylor had helped to formulate. When the players emerged to the roars from the crowd, Lewis executed as agreed: one look to his supporters box, give them a smile and then they were gone; take in the crowd and the glorious arena that housed them, accept where he was, and the loyalties dictated by it, then that also was gone. But it was not part of the plan that there was a final look around, until he identified the area where the media was boxed. It was not part of the plan that he lingered his look in that direction before turning away from something else that was gone.
Oh yes – the best laid schemes of mice and men often go astray, and leave us nothing but grief and pain for promised joy!
Steeling himself, postponing the grief, Lewis followed the plan and started with focus. But Edwin Roberts, inspired by the home crowd, started with uncharacteristic fire and broke him in the crucial seventh game then held on to take the opening set. But it was the Aussie’s plan that ultimately went walkabout. As the match progressed, the Australian fire eventually diminished, and Lewis took control of the match. The second set was close, but few thereafter doubted the outcome. The
home crowd had little to cheer in the third and forth sets, but plenty to applaud in the play that was exhibited. Lewis reached the quarter-finals with effort to spare at the end, and the grudging admiration of the host nation.
Of course I didn't even try. Edited highlights are what's served up, and only the very best bits. But even then, to make it more palatable, I found it best to use a different angle for each match. The first round is all about crowd trouble, so I write it inside Lewis's head - what he is thinking and experiencing. I just give the result of the second round and for the third I see it through Lee Porter's eyes, remotely on television from Sydney. It's not the actual match we see but Lee's consternation about the commentator - a certain Scott Taylor.
The fourth round match is a big one, in the Rod Laver Arena on the eve of Australia Day against a home favourite. But it is also Burns Night and I play on this, quoting the Bard before and after the match, which itself is kept to a paragraph. It is what is happening around the tennis that is more interesting - Lee Porter is in the supporters box, Scott Taylor is commentating, the crowd are on a high because tomorrow is there big day and fireworks will start at midnight. And in the press room hacks are getting busy, sussing out a story that has nothing to do with tennis. But the match still has to be covered. Sorry about the spoiler by giving away the result, but here's how it went, with a little bit of Burns paraphrased in there as well...
Another Scot had a plan, which Mr. Taylor had helped to formulate. When the players emerged to the roars from the crowd, Lewis executed as agreed: one look to his supporters box, give them a smile and then they were gone; take in the crowd and the glorious arena that housed them, accept where he was, and the loyalties dictated by it, then that also was gone. But it was not part of the plan that there was a final look around, until he identified the area where the media was boxed. It was not part of the plan that he lingered his look in that direction before turning away from something else that was gone.
Oh yes – the best laid schemes of mice and men often go astray, and leave us nothing but grief and pain for promised joy!
Steeling himself, postponing the grief, Lewis followed the plan and started with focus. But Edwin Roberts, inspired by the home crowd, started with uncharacteristic fire and broke him in the crucial seventh game then held on to take the opening set. But it was the Aussie’s plan that ultimately went walkabout. As the match progressed, the Australian fire eventually diminished, and Lewis took control of the match. The second set was close, but few thereafter doubted the outcome. The
home crowd had little to cheer in the third and forth sets, but plenty to applaud in the play that was exhibited. Lewis reached the quarter-finals with effort to spare at the end, and the grudging admiration of the host nation.