The public never appears to tire of endless courses of strawberries and cream, and the theory that you run the risk of boring people with endless photo montages of the Chelsea Pensioners in their dress reds, or close-ups of a Pimm's Cup sprouting all kinda of flora, has yet to be proven. People like Wimbledon in the same way they like blue jeans or even their own spouses: for the pleasure yielded by their reliable sameness.
Peter BodoStichwörter: pleasure consistency tennis pleasure-of-recognition wimbledon
Were you serious when you said I might win someday at Wimbledon?"
Claire answered, "There's so much that's pure luck, good or bad. The weather can be terrible. We always say we should re-schedule Wimbledon and hold it in the summer!"
I frowned. "Wimbledon is in the summer."
Claire sighed. "It's a joke, Fiona."
"Oh.
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