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The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player: meet the creative team

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

What we’re raising funds for

Having successfully published our first book, Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player in 2021, we are now following this up with the book’s sequel, The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player,  which follows the trials and tribulations, the dreams and delusions of the central character, Lord Andrew John Paul George Ringo Murray of Kirkintilloch.

We’re building on the successful creative collaboration with our illustrator, Paul Warren, and further develop our audiences and readers and build a series of ‘Confessions’ books which simultaneously entertain and provoke audiences across the world.

One day, we’d like to see the books cross over to film or television: and we’d love it if you were part of that journey!

But we need financial support to turn our text and images into a professionally designed and produced high quality, full colour paperback book, utilising the services of our designers, Creative Triangle and their printing team.  Financial support will also enable us to promote the book to existing and new audiences and help catapault the books into an exciting new future!

If you’d like to invest in the project, please visit our Kickstarter crowdfunding page here.

There are plenty of rewards available, whether you want to invest just a fiver or push the boat out and name the launch of the book after yourself or your loved ones!

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The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player: launching on 1 February 2022

We’re delighted to let you know that the creative team that bought you Confessions of an Ageing Tennis Player will be launching the sequel on 1 February!

Get ready for The Courting Lives of an Ageing Tennis Player!

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Court Life: Last Plane to Transcentral!

I awoke with a start. My flight to Melbourne was finally being called and the assembled herd of tennis goats who had been kicking around impatiently in the waiting lounge finally stirred their stumps and joined a ramshackle queue, nudging, snorting and shuffling their way forward, keen to get on the plane before anyone else.  Even off court, they could not resist the competitive urge to be first on board, first in their seats and first to order their free inflight Pimms.

“Let’s face it, nothing can substitute for just plain hard work. I had to put in the time to get back. And it was a grind,” complained Andre Agassi to Billie Jean King.  She nodded, sympathetically, kicking her tennis bag along the floor as the queue slowly shuffled forwards.

(More here…)

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Court Life: one trial, many tribulations

Continued from Court Life: the best of enemies, the best of friends?

May it please your Lordship. Gentlemen of the Jury, it is my duty, which I am called upon to discharge with more pain than I have ever executed any professional duty in the course of my experience, to explain to you the facts, and to explain to you the law by which a capital offence is to be imputed to the prisoner at the bar.

Gentlemen, undoubtedly when any body contemplates such a wretch as that is, of so tender years, and recollects that he stands at this moment, one may certainly state on the brink of eternity, to be rescued from inevitable ruin only by your verdict; the sensation of such a person must be undoubtedly very painful.

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Court Life: the best of enemies, the best of friends?

Continued from Court Life: it’s No Vacc for Novak!

Noli’s disingenuous claim that somehow our long-standing animosity could be interpreted as amiability grated all the way to the airport.  Ever since we had encountered each other across the net of Wimbledon’s Centre Court all those months ago, he had never fully come to terms with how his game fell apart on that fateful Sunday afternoon in sunny SW19.   He had been up by a set and a break but then it all unravelled.

“Terrible. I feel terrible.” He was heard gasping as he stumbled off court whilst I basked in the affection of the world’s press and its pooches.

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Court Life: it’s No Vacc for Novak!

Continued from Court Life: 100 Days

I am used to waiting.  I have waited a lot in the years leading up to my inauguration as Chairman of the club so am no stranger to the waiting game.  But after five hours of being perched on my head honcho cushion, without seeing a tremble of my tepee curtain became, as you can imagine, dear reader, a tad irksome.

Where are my people and why are they are taking so long? I muttered to myself as I perambulated around an ever decreasing circle on the floor of my teepee.  Do they not realise who has called them?  Do they not realise who I am?  Do they not know what is at stake?

Just at the moment I had come to the centre of my tepee with no-where else to perambulate, my mobile phone rang.  At last I thought, they have finally seen sense and are going to ingratiate themselves with their grovelling apologies.

“Hello!”  I snapped. “What’s taking you?  We have a lot of business ahead of us!  Setting up a a brand new regime doesn’t happen just by itself you know.”

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