Excalibur

Excalibur is no more! After nearly 20 years of loyal service, albeit 20 years of almost continuous defeats, many of them ignominious, beginning in the heyday of Andre Agassi, it fell victim to a particularly optimistic attempt at a volley. I think the ball just caught the rim, fatally cracking the frame.

Never again, when spinning the racquet to decide who serves first, will I utter the words "Upside down Agassi or right-way-up Agassi"!

I don't remember much about its predecessors apart from my very first racket.

This was an ancient wooden thing, handed down by my dad, who had played at college - making it at least 15 years old when I first hit a ball some time around 1962. The strings were made of catgut and had to be kept dry lest the gut rotted.

I seem to recall that this implement suffered a fracture as a result of racquet abuse (specifically being smashed into the ground) during a particularly frustrating game against my friend Chris Jackson on a grass court circa 1968. (I know - it's hard to believe I had such a vile temper as a young man.)

Over the years I've enjoyed many games of tennis, doubles anyway. Somehow the odd sweet passing shot or well-placed volley can make up for dozens of unforced errors, double-faults, and general incompetence. I still find it the most fun way to exercise. I do confess to the occasional expletive, always aimed at myself or the net cord, never an opponent or partner, but no longer break racquets.

There was never any question about whether to replace Excalibur. Even if my hip only allows me another few months of tennis it will be worth it. The replacement, named just as optimistically Mjölnir after Thor's hammer, is a grey and yellow affair. It lacks any endorsement on the handle, but did carry pictures of both Nadal and Tsonga on the packaging. But it's most significant property is that the stringy part has a slightly larger surface area, something which could make all the difference as to whether I hit the ball or not.