4th to 7th September – BOSTON
For the rest of the narrative to make sense, it is important for readers to note that our racquets are called Brian (Clare), Frank (Izzy), Gaz (Audrey) and Tony Henman (Sophie).
Our tour of Boston began with a lengthy tour of several of Harvard’s major graduate schools, as we searched cannily for a free lunch. We dragged Jonny and Izzy around the city’s historic Freedom Trail, militantly sabotaging their sly attempts to sneak off into Abercrombie and Fitch branches. Clare’s affection for Paul Revere grew increasingly sinister as the trail progressed, and Sophie’s loud commentary had to be muffled on the site of the Boston Massacre, as she insisted on making the point that it was ‘a skirmish at most and fisticuffs at worst’ and its value ‘largely propagandistic’. Emily and Sam drove all eight of us (crammed into a single van blaring its soundtrack of Bohemian Rhapsody) to a restaurant which TripAdvisor reviewers generously offered two stars, and found memorable for offering ‘some of the worst food I have ever eaten’. It was called ‘No Name’ and we can’t remember where it was. Jonny threw a full pint of beer all over Izzy’s expensive lobster platter, prompting loud cheers from assembled locals. After learning the hard way about American tipping culture and placating the management, we located the only place to be in Boston on aThursday night: InstruBeatles (a band offering technically sound if unadventurous Beatles backing tracks).
The next day dawned oppressively hot, and we proudly donned our tennis whites for the opening fixture of our tour. Upon arrival at Boston Tennis and Racquets Club, we were instantly struck by the opulence of our surroundings: true to form, we humiliated ourselves by taking selfies and enjoying the club’s personalised mouthwash a little too much. Pro Tony Hollins was the perfect host, and tended to our every whim. We met some lovely characters – Super Stuart; Judge Ken Forton; Arthur Drane of USPS fame – who pushed us to a hard-fought 5-2 win.
Match results:
Audrey & Sophie vs Arthur Drane & Ken Forton: 8 – 1
Audrey vs Ken: 8-4
Sophie vs Stuart: 8-7
Clare vs Stuart: 2-8
Izzy vs Stuart: 8-5
Clare and Izzy vs Stuart and Sarah : 7-8
Izzy & Sophie vs Stuart and Ken: 8-2
After the delirium of playing in forty-degree heat, Izzy and Clare decided to cool themselves off by driving through a hurricane, manually operating the windscreen wipers because there appeared to be no button to press. In the midst of the lightning and torrential rain, we sat gamely on Fenway Park’s metal bleachers to watch a baseball match that we barely understood. Red Sox narrowly defeated Toronto’s Blue Jays in a record-breakingly slow game. Suckers as ever for sports-based merchandise and greasy foods, we purchased overpriced Red Sox memorabilia and jumbo hot dogs. A tiny child screeched “PLAY BAAAAAAAAALL!” at the beginning of the match, which has become the mantra for all our subsequent tennis games.
Afterwards we headed to more familiar sporting territory in the form of Blazing Paddles, a downtown ping pong bar populated by people who cared much less about table tennis than we did. Our commitment to our shot selection never wavered in the face of appalling swings and misses. We seamlessly transitioned from aces on the court to some ace dance moves in what appeared to be a repurposed Chinese restaurant, and met a number of unmentionable local characters.
Clare and Sophie
