Double Fault

Chapter 2

Set 1:
4-6 Bonsee

Set 2:
6-6 tiebreak

"Mama Mia papa, mi sta rovinando completamente con le seconde di servizio [she's completely ruining me on second serves]," I blurted out to my box. I was looking over to my team to hopefully hear by dad chirp back some advice. I heard nothing in response, and he knew I was only releasing my frustration and would not be approving of it later.

I took a sip of water and tried to focus on the tie break ahead. My game plan in the first set needed to come back. Deep return, keep her on my defensive backhand until I could hit the drop shot. Unfortunately my unforced errors were up this set, allowing Iga to get out of a double break point at the end of the set possibly losing me the match. The pressure was setting in.
~
The tie break had already gotten the best of me. I was down 5-2 trying to see if I could switch the momentum. Iga was serving, and I was able to get a nice block return close to her baseline. 14 strikes on the racket later and I was chasing the point wherever my opponent deemed was best for ball placement. I sent up a lob as I lunged at her shot. She approached the net and went for the slam. I guessed the right way of her hit and reached for the ball with my racket, but it had too much pace. I saw the ball hit off the top of my racket soaring into the stands. Oops. I heard the crowd gasp as I straightened my body up and turned to wave an apology.

I searched the crowd and my locked eyes with a man grinning goofily at me with the tennis ball held in his hand. He had a familiar look. The man next to him, I would assume his friend, had his head thrown back laughing. He pulled his hand back and threw the ball towards me with a cheer bursting out from his chest, "dar loro l'inferno, Florence [Give them hell]!"

Hearing the Italian made the corner of lips curl and I gave a thumbs up as I received the ball back and knocked it in the ball boys direction. I turned my back then looked up at the monitor that flashed to the two men. The crowd roared to acknowledge them as the two shyly waved before the screen focused back towards tennis.

The large monitor exposed what I couldn't figure out of first glance. The man who just belted an Italian cheer for me was the one and only Charles Leclerc.

CHARLES POV:

Pierre and I were at the edge of our seats the entire match. It was my first professional women's game, and they did not disappoint.

Bonsee had won the first set but dropped the tiebreaker in the second set, 5-7. It was now midway through the third set and no one had dropped their serve. It was 4-4 going into Florence's service game. It was inspiring watching both women. Pierre was right, Iga controlled the pace of the game in terms of consistent baseline play. However, Florence had the grittiness to her game. She never stopped chasing down shots, she took bigger risks with the net game that usually played to her advantage, and she was protecting her serve by going on attack with a lethal serve and volley. To be honest, I was mesmerized by both players, but I couldn't keep my eyes off Bonsee.

My Italian cheers were echoing through the court ever since I yelled for Florence in the tie breaker, and it was clearly getting media attention as the TV cameras would often bounce to Pierre and I during breaks in play. I wanted to be embarrassed but I was too into this match to care about the cameras invading my personal space. Pierre was into the match as well and both of us have never been so animated while watching tennis.
~
Bonsee's service started and she found herself in a terrible position once the score settled to 15-40 after a rare double fault. I could hear her grumbling to her box letting out frustration. I looked over to I assumed her coach and watched as he calmly spoke back to her. She nodded, closed her eyes, and ran her hand over her face. I looked down at my hands which were dug into the arm rests, my knuckles white from squeezing the stress out with my hands.