I’ve really tried hard to like tennis.  I’m not overly fond of fist pumping or Sue Barker, and can only just cope with ‘Come on, Andy’ so  but there’s a reason I can’t watch.  In fact there are a lot of reasons.

And they’re the ballboys and ballgirls.

They just make me nervous, that’s all.  Forever scurrying about, tidying up.  Now I don’t like mess and understand that tennis balls rolling around a court can be something of a hazard, but can’t they just slow down a bit?  Do they have to run everywhere?

I’d love for one of them to say ‘Oh, I’ll get that one later’ when a ball comes to rest somewhere it can’t do any harm.  Like a proper teenager would.  Or when a player signals for a towel, to chuck it the four feet between them rather than scuttling forward to hand it over, before standing for all of two seconds with their hands behind their back waiting to be given it back.  Two hen backing away as if they’ve just had an audience with the queen.  I read somewhere they’re not allowed to make eye contact with the players, so the allusion to royalty probably isn’t that far off the mark.

They’re well trained, that’s true.  The training they get will serve them well in later life.  Obedience, servitude, forelock tugging – all perfect attributes to get where you need to go in Britain.

One day, and I hope it’s when I’m watching – although it won’t be, as I don’t – the ballboys and ballgirls will rebel.  Murray will smash a ball into the net and the first act of defiance will come to pass.  ‘Get it yourself’ says the boy, and word spreads.  Soon, all over the courts, boys and girls are tying their shoelaces in single knots (did you know they’re all told to tie them double?) or better still, not tying them at all.  Like proper teenagers.  They’re playing with their phones when they should be pouring the Robinsons Barley Water.  When the umpire calls out ‘Ball change’ they’re standing around sniggering instead of springing into action.  It’ll be like the Hunger Games, but with tennis bats instead of bows and arrows.

Ballboys and ballgirls of the world unite, you have nothing to lose but your chains.  We’re all with you.

Except me, you make me nervous.