Delaney Ricciardo is fierce and her determined to win at any cost has not made her well liked. But by the time she retires from tennis she is a twenty four grand slam winner and regarded as the greatest tennis player the world has ever seen.
But si...
Rachel: Delaney is headed to the semifinals! At this point, the fact that she is still a force of nature is undeniable. Briggs call her whatever you want, but you have to admit this is fun to watch. This is a player giving audiences a spectacularly good show as she fights tooth and nail to the finish.
Briggs: Look, I am the first to admit when I'm wrong. I said earlier this year that Ricciardo wouldn't make it to Wimbledon, and I stand corrected. But in hindsight, it seems obvious, doesn't it? Of course this was Ricciardo's move. Of course Wimbledon would be her only real shot at a title this year.
Hadley: And can she do it? Rachel?
Rachel: I think it's going to be hard. She now has the three best players in the game ahead of her. She will go up against Wade next. This is Ricciardo's best surface, but this is also Wade's.
Lakin: In some ways, it's an interesting match, these two. Anna Wade, her style of play, the quick pace, the great volleys-owes a lot to Delaney. We saw that back in Paris. I said, Anna is the new Delaney." It's almost as if this is Delaney's chance to play her old self on her best surface.
Rachel: If Delaney wants to prove there is only one Delaney Ricciardo, well, this is the chance.
****
I am sitting in the locker room with my eyes closed, listening to the waves of my breath.
My hands gripped the bench on either side of me.
I felt sick.
It's such a stupid fucking feeling. I've done this a hundred times. I've been in this position, about to play a semi final of a Slam, over a hundred times. I'm used to it.
But yet as I sit here, my eyes screwed shut and focusing on my breathing, this feeling feels like such a foreign one.
The camera crew were sitting across the room in the corner, there was only two women - one holding a camera and one holding a microphone. I already know they're eating this up, and I can place money that this moment right here will be in the trailer for the movie. But I ignore them, I made a promise to Tasha that I would let Netflix into every aspect of my life and show them every detail. And I'm not one for breaking my promises.
What if I fuck it up again?
What if I fuck it all up?
This is my biggest chance.
This is Wimbledon.
This is my home.
If I lose here......
If I lose on my home grounds, I'm not sure I'll have anything left in me to try again in the US.
I pick up my phone and dial my uncle.
He doesn't miss a beat.
"Don't think about strategy now" he says. "The time for that is over. This is the time for instinct"
"I know," I say, taking in a deep breath. "I know"
"You are prepared. Trust your preparation"
"I know"
"Don't listen to Self 1" he says.
I laugh without opening my eyes. "You've been listening too much to Lewis"
Lewis had gotten yet another bodysuit delivered to my hotel room this morning, it was the most gorgeous one yet, with a note that simply said 'I'm still betting on you Laney' the white piece of card was tucked into the mesh pocket of my gear bag, along with the six other ones he's delivered over the last three weeks.
"Be Self 2"
"Don't think" I say. "Just act"
"Don't think," my uncle says. "Just play"
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