In
my dream the Australian Open is being played in backstreets of the suburbs. The
documentary shows leafy avenues and old-fashioned verandahs, with players
fending for themselves on vacant blocks or concrete carparks. One game between
champions is on a dirt driveway covered in leaves. Balls struck into rising
ground are retrieved by the contestants, who slip about on uneven gradients.
There are few spectators, with possibly a referee. A voiceover makes neutral
disingenuous statements like, “These
conditions are very primitive.” Games go on for days, right into
February, as the camera pans to more shots of home beautiful flowerbeds.
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