Category: The Confessions Series

Kevin Coyne plays ‘Mad Boy’ for Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player

When Paul Warren, the Confessions illustrator and I first met, we soon realised we were both fans of the Derby born musician, Kevin Coyne. I had seen Kevin several times, and Paul was lucky enough to be one of his best friends and study with him at the Derby College of Art.

We both thought it would be terrific if Kevin’s role in our lives could be acknowledged in the Confessions… book and so were delighted when Helmi, Kevin’s wife, allowed us to use of Kevin’s song, Mad Boy, as the accompanying song for Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player. If you’re listening up there, Kevin, we hope we’ve done you proud.

Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player

Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player

“I don’t like your attitude!” snaps “Serena Williams” as we square up over the club’s dubious grass courts. But I am “Andy Murray”, the greatest tennis GOAT ever, no really I am and you “Serena” are blocking me from my ultimate goal: chairman of our local club.

‘Confessions’ is about a man of a certain age – Lord Andrew John Paul George Ringo Murray of Kirkintilloch – who lived out his tennis fantasies when he was young and never quite moved on as he grew up.

The first of a series, “Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player” is the must-go-to illustrated comic guidebook about our dreams and our disappointments, our failures and our triumphs.

£12.99
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Maja Writes… Life During Wartime

Headphones are my best defence. Best decision ever. I listen to Hawking Teds all day. They sound like home: strange, clever, detached. Julian asked what I’m listening to. I said ‘white noise.’ It’s simpler. Eleanor told me, ‘Don’t let him near your lunchbox.’ Still don’t understand the metaphors in this place.

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

“Tennis belongs to the individualistic past – a hero, or at most a pair of friends or lovers, against the world.” (Jacques Barzun)

 

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Julian Writes… Maya and the Drop Shot!

She wears headphones. All day. I’m certain she’s listening to Serbian poetry or perhaps meditative tennis podcasts. I asked what music inspires her but she just shrugged, “It’s white noise.” This may be metaphorical. I think she’s protecting herself from the chaos of the publishing world. Later, she briefly smiled when I offered her a stapler. Progress.

I try later that morning and ask what she’s listening to. ‘Hawking Teds,’ she said, deadpan. I pretended to know.  I think she meant Hawkwind. Fascinating! A woman who misnames her band and owns it. There’s art in that. Like hitting a drop shot when everyone expects a drive. I’m certain she listens to ‘Once in a Lifetime’ and thinks of me.

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

“Tennis belongs to the individualistic past – a hero, or at most a pair of friends or lovers, against the world.” (Jacques Barzun)

 

£19.99
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Maja Writes… The Road To Nowhere?

He asked if I like tennis. I said I don’t play. He looked disappointed. He looked like I’d called his god a liar. He smells like fresh paper. I started humming Psycho Filler. It helps drown him out. I do not tell him that Novak Djokovic is my mother’s cousin’s husband’s brother. It never ends well. That could be a Hawking Teds song title. He smells faintly of stationery. Work is boring involving mostly typing things into spreadsheets that make no sense. But at least I’m indoors.

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

“Tennis belongs to the individualistic past – a hero, or at most a pair of friends or lovers, against the world.” (Jacques Barzun)

 

£19.99
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Julian Writes… First serve to Maja!

Maja works in silence, the kind you only hear before a serve. I tried a conversational volley: ‘Do you play?’ She said, ‘No.’ Flat, clean, devastating. I regrouped, mentioned Wimbledon, rhythm, focus but still nothing. I’m not discouraged. Early games are about reading your opponent’s stance.

(one hour later)

She seems to have remarkable focus. While others chatter about deadlines, she types with unnerving precision. I attempted small talk .  “So, are you a fan of the backhand slice?” was an artful opening serve I thought but she merely retorted, “I prefer not to talk during work hours.” straight back down the line. A professional! A rare breed. I sense a bond forming, though she doesn’t yet realise it. I drafted a note of appreciation to HR, praising her “quiet industriousness and unstudied elegance.” Will send tomorrow after suitable reflection.

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player

“Tennis belongs to the individualistic past – a hero, or at most a pair of friends or lovers, against the world.” (Jacques Barzun)

 

£19.99
Shop now