Long or short, post them here...

Give us a laugh or make us shed our tears...

I've been hesitating to write one...

The story is in y head, just haven't got the script...

Should be called "Jill goes to the Hospital"...

I actually wrote about a tennis match for my creative writing piece for English :lol:

I'm too embarassed to post it though :blush:

I once did that too! roflmao

It was one about Tim winning Wimby :blush:

Got 18/20 though B)

Ah, go on!!! whats the worst that can happen? We all laugh? ;) We make fun of you for a couple days! ;) Then someone else posts and we move on! :D

Go on.... im sure its great!

Please please please :pray:

:lol:

Well, there's one main problem; it's too similar to the 2005 Wimbledon final to be classed as 'original'...

In fact, it's kind of a mix of the 2004 and 2005 finals :blink:

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo....

go on post it!!! Peeeee-lease! :)

:pray:

Ok, anyone who does want to read my story can PM me :)

Right, the feedback's been pleasantly good thus far, so I'll post it here :)

The Wimbledon final was deep into the third set, with the clouds rolling in over Centre Court. The tournament had been blessed with glorious weather over the fortnight; the mercury even exceeded 36 degrees Celsius at the beginning of the second week!

The ladies’ event had largely disappointed. Too many matches were decided by errors rather than winners; the media criticised the ever-increasing number of players who grunted; and to top it off, two of the top five players had to withdraw due to injury. Despite this, a dream final had become reality; Christine Johnson, a young player progressing through the ranks, against Lindsey Frazier, the world number one.

It had been an incredible event for Johnson. Ranked seventeen, she had courageously fought past three of the top five seeds, all in three sets, to reach her maiden Grand Slam final. She struck the ball as well as any other woman; the sweet sound off her racquet sounded like the pop of a cork. She possessed lovely touch around all areas of the court, which had kept her in good stead. Previously, she had been a consistent, though unspectacular, player on the tour: was she about to make her breakthrough?

Her opponent, on the other hand, was a seasoned professional. Frazier was the reigning champion, with a total of six Grand Slams to her name. She was a monstrous hitter of the ball, clocking up to one hundred and twenty five miles per hour on her serve. To go along with her fierce ball-striking, Frazier had phenomenal movement, enabling her to track down many shots and frustrate her opponents. She was the superstar of the tour, with her glamour model looks and tennis skills to match; Frazier was extremely popular on the circuit, with both her fellow players and the fans.

Understandably, Johnson had started off nervously in her first Grand Slam final. Frazier took full advantage and raced to the first set, six games to two. Frazier was in excellent form, dragging Johnson across the court like a yo-yo. Though Johnson was making far too many errors; her backhand looked especially erratic. After going down a break early in the second set, she slumped into her chair, burying her face in her towel. The crowd, sensing a demolition, suddenly became involved in the match, lifting Johnson’s spirits.

With a new lease of life, Johnson powered her way to the second set, six games to four, against a clearly disgruntled Frazier. Johnson’s game had turned around remarkably; her service speed had vastly increased, and she had cut down on the number of unforced errors. The crowd were now fully involved in the enthralling match: could the rising starlet produce an upset?

The third set had proved to be tense. Nonetheless, the two women continued to make outstanding shots under pressure. Frazier’s serve thundered down point after point; she didn’t yield a single break point in her first five service games. Undeterred, Johnson stayed calm, maintaining a high first serve percentage and hitting blistering winners from seemingly defensive positions. The match was like a fierce battle, with the competitors desperate to avoid defeat.

Johnson nervously tied her shoes at a change of ends. It was one of her idiosyncrasies, and something which became more prevalent when matches became tighter. On the other side of the umpire’s chair, Frazier was motionless. Whilst she was very friendly and approachable off court, she had developed a reputation for being relentless on court. She exuded a sense of serenity and authority. But even though she displayed a cool exterior, there was no doubt that inside, she was feeling anxious.

With the score at six games apiece, Johnson stepped up to the baseline, ready to serve. Frazier took her time, wiping her face with her towel. With Frazier ready to receive, Johnson began her service motion. What followed was simply amazing. The women hit twenty-seven punishing, effortful strokes, culminating in a screaming forehand winner down the line by Johnson. The crowd erupted. Johnson held her arms in triumph. After breathing heavily for a few seconds, both players retreated to their baselines. Though as she went back to the back of the court, Johnson felt her back seize up. Her smile evaporated; instead, the pain was etched on her face. She asked for the trainer.

Johnson managed to escape through the game before requiring medical assistance. She sat down into her chair, hurling her racquet away. She was visibly irritated by the unfortunate injury. With tears swelling in her eyes, the trainer arrived. Johnson explained the feeling in her back, which led to the trainer asking the umpire to go off court for treatment. Johnson tamely left Centre Court, knowing that her hopes of winning the title were rapidly vanishing.

To keep warm, Frazier had been hitting some serves. After around six minutes, Johnson returned to the court to a huge cheer. Nobody wanted such a terrific final to be marred by injury. Johnson knew that she had to put behind this occurrence. She picked up her racquet and strode onto court, determined to give one hundred percent. Frazier still looked composed, despite the fact that she was about to serve to stay in the championship after a fairly lengthy break.

With the clouds looking evermore dangerous, Frazier comfortably held to love. Johnson appeared to be moving gingerly, though her groundstrokes were still firing. There was no visible wrap on her back; though a grimace appeared on her face between points. The score was now seven games all, the match time being clocked at over two and a half hours. Johnson was taking longer between points – was the injury, coupled with fatigue, taking its toll?

During the next game, Frazier hit a sizzling forehand that was called out by the linesman. The umpire refused to overrule, considering it was on the farthest line. Furious, Frazier marched up to the chair. An intense argument ensued. However, the umpire still refused to budge; Frazier was livid, showing her displeasure by smashing her racquet to the ground. It wasn’t often that Frazier lost her temper: but when it happened, she was as ferocious as a lion.

The standard of play continued to be high: riveting rallies, blistering winners, beautiful touch. Johnson seemed to be unhampered by the injury. Suddenly, at thirty-all, nine games apiece, she inexplicably double faulted. It was break point. Shouts of encouragement echoed around the court. Johnson’s first serve missed by a matter of inches. A mutter rippled through the crowd – was another double fault about to take place? The serve managed to creep over the net, and a tantalising rally proceeded. After eleven strokes, a thunderbolt of a forehand from Frazier clipped the net and dribbled onto Johnson’s side. She had the break. The back injury rapidly felt a lot worse.

Johnson adjusted her racquet strings at the change of ends, with her opponent about to serve for the title. Her back still felt stiff, albeit better than a few minutes ago. She knew that the end was nigh; Frazier was clinical in serving out matches. But she needed to keep mentally positive. With the umpire calling ‘time’, the two players slowly walked back onto court, knowing that it could be the final game. The crowd gave an enormous cheer, with shouts of support for both the youngster and the defending champion.

Frazier raced to a thirty-love lead with two excellent first serves; Johnson failed to get either of them back into court. The next point was magical; Johnson played a majestic drop shot, but Frazier to counter with one of her own. Johnson frantically scrambled up to the ball, sending up a brilliant defensive lob, only for Frazier to smack a between-the-legs winner down the line. Johnson looked subdued, but Frazier was elated, screaming ‘come on’. It was Championship point.

Johnson’s heart was racing. Her first Grand Slam final was on the verge of ending in defeat. However, it had been a marvellous tournament for her; she had certainly proved herself to be a future force in the women’s game. Frazier could have been excused for being nervous; instead, she sent down an ace to seal the match and the title. She shrieked in delight, raising her arms aloft, the euphoria captivating the whole of Centre Court. The two women shared a warm embrace at the net – it had truly been a memorable final.

Clutching her runners-up trophy, Johnson looked on with great respect as Frazier delivered her speech. She was obviously disappointed that she had lost. Nonetheless, it had been a magnificent achievement for the rising star, and she would look back on the match contently. When the pair lined up for photographs, Johnson jokingly switched her trophy with Frazier’s. Both girls laughed, along with the crowd. It wasn’t quite her time; not yet.


(Yes, I know it sounds familiar! :lol: )

:clap:

Great story LDF. I expected Johnson to win a la Sharapova, but you had to give Lindsay the victory :D

Great story LDF! I'm wouldn't be surprised if you got an A*!

However, I wasn't sure what final you were talking about... sorry... I thought it was the Serena vs Sharapova in 2004...

Obviously now I know that you meant Lindsay but what final did you mean? :blush: :(