From Melbourne Beatrice (and Robbie) Cappuccio
It is Saturday, and mom and daddy took me – as it happens for 8 years now – to the Australian Open (the ground pass for children costs $5). It’s family friendly event and there are many things to do and see other than tennis (which I like, but – I confess – I am not super duper crazy about). We alight the tram at Federation Square, where there is a giant screen and beach chairs provided free of charge, and lots of people watching the games from there.
Since we have tickets we continue along the Yarra (Melbourne River) to Melbourne Park. There are many stands by the sponsors and games for children. Daddy though wants to get to the court asap: we quickly reach the check point and take the pedestrian bridge that has just been built and that takes us – after passing an area where they play live music – straight to the Margaret Court Arena, one of the three stadiums with retractable roof, so even if it rains you can keep on playing.
Daddy takes me to see where they string the racquets: they are so good and so fast. They just did those of Nadal, who is playing this afternoon, and Kyrgios, who has lost the other day and is out of the tournament, so I do not know why he needs the racquet. Daddy says he has immense talent but has a “fixed mindset” rather than a “growth mindset”. I have no idea what he means, but I say I agree. (If interested in learning more about fixed and growth mindset, read the excellent book by Carol Dweck).
There’s a lot of people, but we already know where to go: the new children’s playground called The Ballpark, where there is a whole Lego area, trampolines, gymkhana, climbing walls, an area battle by shooting foam balls, and then – of course – mini tennis courts.
After an hour or two, I reach daddy who is watching the junior tournament, which started today. Dad likes to watch it because you may see tomorrow’s stars. Over the years we have seen Pliskova, Kyrgios, Ana Konjuh, Zverev. It sounds strange – but maybe it is not – that the first two seeds of the boys’ tournament are Chinese an Taiwanese. Wu (Chinese, # 1) was playing today, but did not really impressed me.
While the juniors Ferguson (Aus) and Frinzi (Ita) were playing on court 19, Andy Murray and Angelique Kerber were practicing right next door, with heaps of people watching. I also tried to take the autograph but I am too little and could not make it through. I did not even try later with Federer, because when Roger practices there are hundreds to huddling around the court; also daddy has often played on the same court, but he told me that no, he has never played Federer. Too bad. It is nice though to be at a stone’s throw (or ball’s throw) from such champions. I also saw Ferrer, then Mladenovic, and even Nihikori. It was packed with Japanese people for Nishikori, whereas Mladenovic had mostly men watching. Go figure.
The sky, which was cloudy this morning, becomes sunny and it gets hot if you are not in the shade. Not hot to having to use the station that sprays icy air (I love it), but I need to put a lot of sunscreen because Aussie sun eats you alive because of the ozone hole. It’s time for lunch and we go to the grand slam oval, which divided into 4 zones: Melbourne Gardens, Paris Quarter, NY Streets and The English Club, recalling the four grand slam tournaments. It’s very crowded, with people with painted faces wearing improbable 70’s tennis attire, and there are even ladies dressed as tennis balls.
And then there are all the stands of the sponsors with freebies and giveaways to fill bags, which then you come home and wonder: what am I going to do with this stuff? Anyway, I get the face painting, with a butterfly around the eye and a tennis racquet on myarm. Another stop at the Ballpark, but then there are no more excuses: I have to watch a bit of tennis. I head to Show Court 2, where there is Istomin, who defeated Djokovic the other day, against a Spaniard: Carreno Busta. Ugh that was boring: these two go on and on with super long rallies and nothing happens.
Every now and then there is a Mexican wave going on and at least that keeps me awake. During the fifth set the ball dances on the net and decides to drop in the Spaniard’s side. Tennis is like this: a moment, just one point, and the match can turn. From 2 all Istomin flies, so to speak (this match never ends) and wins 6-2 at the fifth set.
Time to go home. It’s 9:30PM now, and I’m exhausted because I am only 8 years old, but there is Dasha Gavrilova on TV: we often meet her at the supermarket and she is very nice, and her trainer is Stefano Barsacchi, so I’ll watch the match a little bit …. zzzzzzz.