by So Rafa has won a twelfth French Open title. So predictable but still so ridiculous. The first seven games of his final with Dominic Thiem were spellbinding. When Thiem broke out of the blue to snatch the second set, I thought, now then. Remarkably (or perhaps not; this is Rafa we’re talking about), Thiem won just two more games in the match, although the 6-1 score in the fourth set did an injustice to a very high-quality and enjoyable set of tennis.
Thiem’s two-day semi-final with Djokovic really had me on the edge of my seat. I rushed back from my lessons yesterday to catch the resumption of a match that had just about everything, including crazy weather conditions. The right man won, but he oh so nearly didn’t. He played a nightmarish four points from 5-3 and 40-15 in the final set, and was impressive in the way he bounced back to win against an all-time great.
On the women’s side, Ash Barty steamrollered her way to a very popular win yesterday. Her semi-final against 17-year-old Amanda Anisimova (who, make no mistake, is already the real deal) would have been crazy to watch, with more twists and turns than even the most twisty turny interclub matches I can remember playing or watching. Surviving such an encounter might have made her more relaxed for yesterday’s final.
I had no real luck on my return to the ENT specialist last week. He looked through the images from my CT scan; the images are “slices” taken at 5-millimetre intervals. He confirmed that my brain was, visually at least, OK (!). As for my maxillary sinuses, the left one especially was visibly full of gunk but he had no solution other than painkillers for the times I get the worst attacks. I was hoping for more than that. He didn’t recommend surgery because it’s actually fairly major, is far from guaranteed to solve the problem, and there isn’t anyone in Timișoara qualified to perform it. I’ve started a “pain diary” where I simply shade hourly cells in an Excel spreadsheet, darker grey representing greater pain. There are no white cells except at night, and sometimes not even then.
A few words about Scrabble. I feel I’m playing OK. I still don’t know enough words yet, and I’m still relatively slow, but I can sense continual improvement. After a run of 15 consecutive wins, my rating on ISC reached the dizzy heights of the 1500s, but I hit then hit some stormy weather for a few games when I couldn’t stop my opponents from scoring heavily, and I dropped below 1400. I’m back in the low-to-mid 1400s after a few comfortable wins, including one last night where I scored 551, six points shy of my record.
It’s hotting up here, and I can detect the sweet smell of tei as I type. The forecast on my phone is showing sunshine icons and temperatures with an initial three, stretching out as far as it goes.
