When my little chat has ‘gone to bed’, like all journalists, I prepare for the next. Ideas wiz round, angles mulled through, subjects thought over: various victories, members’ successes, welcome to new members, communication difficulties? (There lies a problem!).
Got it: I’ve decided. Then what?
All is ruined by the surprise party thrown for me at the end of the 14 point tournament. What a surprise! In the middle of clearing up I’m told (ordered?) to go to the club house.
There’s this evening-gowned beauty walking past the trees. Must see who it is and what she’s doing here. It’s Susan. There are enough chairs out to seat a regiment.
“Where’s David” someone says. “He’s gone to get his car”. “Must be with a woman”. Car drives up….still no idea what it’s all about. Then Iris appears. Still ignorant. Mel starts his speech. God, it’s for me.
I was completely overwhelmed. Still am nearly a week later, more so even after the turn-out at 58 Pond Bank. How did we get 45 people in our one room?
Your generosity, your kind words, the phenomenal effort you all made to keep it a secret (Tim even ‘junk mailed’ me from his e-mail messages), the hard work you all put in to make and decorate the cake and the box of wines, wines of such quality that I could not normally drink them. I’ve dated some to be ‘laid down’ for the future.
The gratifying thing to me was that it demonstrates what the Club is all about. Many have commented on the friendliness they find on our courts. You all proved it…thanks again and again.
Owen