Wimbledon
I sledged Steve Smith for England
In this summer of sporting dramas, every patriotic sports fan likes to think he’s done his bit to help. I…
High life
Now that Wimbledon is over, a few thoughts about youthful brains showing traces of horse tranquillisers, angel dust and cannabis,…
The Oprah-fication of Wimbledon
Now that the weakest Wimbledon since 1973 – the year of the boycott – is over, a few thoughts about…
A very classy thriller indeed: C4's The Undeclared War reviewed
The Undeclared War has many of the traditional signifiers of a classy thriller: the assiduous letter-by-letter captioning of every location;…
Can we talk about Emma Raducanu's Christianity?
I’ve just been looking at photographs of Emma Raducanu again, this time focusing on her upper chest. She usually wears…
In defence of Naomi Osaka
‘Kawaisou’ or ‘wagamama’ (poor thing or spoiled brat)? That’s the question Japanese tennis fans have been asking ever since world number…
The science of tennis grunts
How grunting helps players win
Coco Gauff won fair and square, but she played terrible tennis
Martina Navratilova has never been shy about telling it like it is. She came out when other athletes were hiding…
What the new generation of tennis players could learn from Rocket Rod Laver
A chum was in Waitrose a year or two back, and was bending down with some difficulty to look at…
The true winner of this World Cup? Russia
Like most people with any taste, I like the odd vodka, I love Crime and Punishment, I enjoy Turgenev and…
A Wimbledon-themed tea has little to do with tennis, but I loved it: Claridges reviewed
Claridge’s is a toff sanctuary and one of the best hotels on earth. It specialises in its own myth, which…
No balls
Borg vs McEnroe is a dramatised account of one of the greatest tennis rivalries of all time — between Bjorn…
Rog apart, Wimbledon 2017 was a disgrace
For obvious reasons this column always welcomes ‘King Roger Rules The World’ headlines on the back pages. And the front…
My wife’s revenge has me at break point
Fifteen years ago, when I was The Spectator’s drama critic, Caroline used to complain that she had become a ‘theatre…
Game changers
Have you been cheering for the excellent Johanna Konta at Wimbledon? Go, Jo! Or should that be Go, Yo? Johanna…
Match made in heaven
Tennis is best played with a wooden racket on a shady lawn somewhere close to Dorking. There is no need…
Always the Superbrat
John McEnroe’s father calls. In fact, he calls McEnroe’s manager’s phone, presumably because dad doesn’t have a direct line to…
A crime novel so incompetent it might have been written by a child
First, a quote from the novel under review. The context: it is a flashback scene of the behaviour of a…
Ancient and Modern: Juvenal and Cicero on whether grunting has a place in sport
What a pleasure it was to watch the men’s final at Wimbledon contested with a minimum of grunting, exclaiming and…
Rachel Johnson’s diary: Why I told my book party I was coming out as a lesbian
My husband says I only write books in order to have a launch party. Not so. I also write books…
Why sport and sham morality go so well together
Why sport and sham morality go so well together
Portrait of the week
Home Theresa May, the Home Secretary, ordered a review, taking perhaps ten weeks, by Peter Wanless, the head of the…
Radio review: Malcolm Gladwell’s masterclass on listening
Out and about in Surrey on Sunday I happened upon a scene that could have been played out 77 years…
Spectator sport: Why Andy Murray may be the greatest sportsman Britain has produced
There’s nothing we old folk like more than a chat about how poorly all our friends and acquaintances are. This…
The dying art of sports commentary
Taki 3 July 2021 9:00 am
Wimbledon is here at last, after its absence in 2020. What struck me watching the French Open on television a…