Rise to the top


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1. Memories and Early mornng torture

7th June 2012

 

I've been woken up by my alarm clock, 6.30 am its cold and dark outside and my house is still. Thoughts have just come rushing back to me of the last night which I have to admit, was horrible, it had been my one and only chance to prove to everyone that i was good at what i did, tennis, but I had failed and it felt worse than anything I had ever felt before. Everybody was there, my friends my family, scouts from other countries and packed with fans shouting my name, this was a big tournament for me, it was at Queens Club, London and if I could get to the Final or win i would have a place on the pro tour, a place on the ATP world tour. It was about 5pm when i was finally called on court to play my semi-final, it was due to start at 3 but the match before me had gone on and on and on which left me sitting in the locker room waiting and getting more nervous as time went by. By the time i actually got on court i had practically already lost the match, my hands were shaking, i was cold and i could see the steam coming out of my mouth like a dragon. The match was over within an hour, i had lost to a bad player who didn’t deserve a place in the final, i deserved it, it was my place in the final. I walked back into the locker room and not knowing what to do i burst into tears, and locked the door. My crying lasted for over an hour whilst i was watching interviews on the TV next to me with the man who had beaten me talking about how he had worked so hard for this spot and he was very happy blah blah blah. I got up and packed my bags i also cleaned my face because i knew as soon as i walked out there would be photographers and journalists. I opened the door and took a deep breath, then i stepped out ready for questions to be fired at me from the many journalists but the only person standing there was my Mum with tears pouring down her face, i hadn't seen her since the beginning of the year when i was training at home, before i moved to Spain to train at the Sanchez academy in Barcelona, she hugged me as hard as she could really thinking that my bones would brake, i felt the tears coming back and let them fall as i hugged my mum feeling like a lonely child. That night i went home and fell straight asleep.

 

I looked at my clock again and it read 6.45 "oh god" i thourght as i sat on my bed not wanting to go to the gym this early, but i had to, if i even wanted a second shot at a tennis career i had to start again and erase this from my mind. I jumped in the car and headed for the gym, mornings really cant be much worse.

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