The Open Road

It's not often that I'm moved to press my body into action by 10am but Forrest had booked me for a ride and needed to be away by 2pm. It was also forecast to be very warm in the afternoon and I rather wanted to be inside watching the Wimbledon men's final. For once, I didn't keep him waiting.

I'm gradually introducing Forrest to all my favourite local routes so he's got a good topographical palette to choose from when it comes to going out for a ride on his own. I used to be able to stop at the top of a hill, take a few photographs, and be guaranteed to catch him on the descent. Not any more. It was a stunningly beautiful morning to be out on the bike. The light was dazzling, imbuing the whole landscape with a technicolour vibrancy.

The tennis was dazzling too. My most realistic hope was for Kyrgios not to suffer a meltdown and be able to force Djokovic to play his best tennis. That he certainly did. It could easily have gone to five sets rather than four but the result was never in any real doubt. Novak is always able to extract that extra bit of focus, that extra bit of effort, whatever is needed, exactly when it's needed. It's an extraordinary gift and an extraordinary thing to witness. There is a whole generation of tennis stars who are going to miss out on winning the Grand Slam title that would have defined their career. The next generation of players is rapidly coming up from behind and is likely to get there before them. I do love tennis as a sport, especially when played on grass. So many stories within stories within stories. There are few better sporting narratives than that delivered by Wimbledon fortnight. I will miss the delivery of Sue Barker too. It's going to be strange next year without her.