She's back ~ L. Hamilton

33. | Burnswood

My life becomes;

Five miles in the sand every morning
Forty yard sprints on the days off
Hitting against a machine spitting balls at me that are as fast as 80 miles per hour.
Playing against hitter for hours on end

My uncle clothes my serves with a radar gun and shaking his head until I hit at least 140 miles per hour.

And then, when the sun begins to set and evening takes hold and I sit down with Marco to watch the matches from the Australian Open.

We sit down and watch my matches in Melbourne to figure out what I could have done better. Then we watch all the women ranked in the top 15 minus Nicki as they play in a tournament in Oklahoma. Together we analyse their game,

My uncles jaw tenses as we watch Natasha Swift dominate in the final. He doesn't have to say anything - I clock the problem the moment he does.

Swift plays like I used to. She's fast, with a full arsenal of shots. It won't be easy for me to go up against her in Paris if it comes to it.

"I think we should go to Indian Wells" my uncle says, as we turn off the tv for the night "see the players up close, look for their weak spots"

He stands up to retire to his house for the night "did you see Liam got to the semis in Milan?"

"Yeah" I say, nodding

"We have to get you two back on the court. The better he gets, the better you'll play. Until one day you will play the greatest tennis you've ever played in your life"

"I'm afraid that's not possible" I say

"I'm telling you, Del, the greatest match of your career is ahead of you"

It's just a kind thing for him to say - exactly the sort of thing a father like him would tell a daughter like me. Full of heart, of belief, and maybe a little bit untrue.

_____________________

March 2023

Three months until Paris

We made the plan.

My uncle, Tasha and I pack our suitcases into Tashas Rolls Royce convertible and head west for Burnswood. After that tournament Tasha and Marco will drive back home and I'll meet up with Daniel and we'll both fly out to Italy for the Grand Prix.

Tasha is driving and I am in the passenger seat. She has the radio on blast, the sound system was so clear it felt like Kendrick Lamar was sitting right beside me.

My uncle was in the back seat and fell asleep within five minutes.

Tasha looks over at me and then turns the radio down "look" she says "I need to talk to you about something"

"Okay..." I say

She looks around her before moving into the fast lane on the motorway. Which is pointless as the road is at a standstill.

"Dior wants to pause the commercials for now"

I look at Tasha "but I made it to the round of 16"

"They were impressed with your showing in Melbourne. But they said Clay is your worst surface and they don't want to run a bunch of commercials about what a legend you are off of two......"