I love watching Wimbledon. It reminds me of my childhood when I watched tennis in front of the fireplace in the home I grew up in. I long to watch it live, whilst eating strawberrys and shaking hands with Prince William.
The point is – I love Wimbledon.
I was a tad aggressive about the fact that I actually had to be productive at work over the last two weeks, instead of spending entire afternoons dedicated to supporting the players.
One afternoon, I did get to watch a match and after a couple of minutes of enjoyment, my little cat LuLu decided she wanted to get a closer look at what all the “haaaa-eeeees” were about. She jumped right up onto the table that the flat screen rests on. She was within an inch of the screen and her little face started to follow the path of the ball. Up and down her face went and every time the ball went out, her head continued on the ball’s natural course and she ended up gazing at our lounge floor. She was stumped as to where the ball was disappearing to. True as bob, the play would start again and she would be following the course of this new ball. The ball would go out and she would gaze at the ceiling – where had the ball flown to?
Wimbledon is clearly for the enjoyment of a multitude of species because every time I would fetch LuLu from right in front of the telly, she would slink back to her viewing spot within minutes.
Good sports on telly = Ha’peaness