Page 55 of Risky Match
Another nod.
“Are you always this quiet before a match?” I ask.
I expect another nod, but he surprises me by shaking his head. “Sorry, it’s just my routine. I’m not used to having a partner. On the ride to a match, I think through my strategy and go over the points Josh has told me about my opponent. When someone says something to me, it’s usually just information for me to take in, so I nod and continue with my mental prep. I didn’t mean to be rude. I should have asked if you wanted to talk through those things with me. Did you want to discuss strategy?”
“No worries. This is a new partnership for both of us. I’d love to discuss our strategy.”
For the rest of the ride, we talk comfortably, exchanging our thoughts and ideas. It’s like he’s a different person now that he’s sharing what’s in his head. What a relief.
An hour after arriving,we meet in the practice area to warm up with stretches, footwork drills, and exercise bikes. Blake teases me about my favorite stretches I learned in yoga. I make him try one and snap a photo when he ends up twisted into an impossible position. We’re focused but having fun.
When our coaches give us a fifteen-minute warning until court time, butterflies flutter in my stomach, reminding me this is real. We gather our tennis bags and follow the coaches to the tunnel for Centre Court. They wish us luck and go to take their seats.
Once we’re alone, Blake turns to me, takes my hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Enjoy every moment. Play each point like it’s the most important one. When the point is over, forget it and focus on the next one. Results will follow. We’ve got this.”
“Is that what you do?”
“It is.”
Before I can reply, a coordinator signals for us to head down the tunnel. A camera person records us as we move forward. When we’re three feet from the exit, they stop us.
A booming voice announces, “Please welcome Blake Knight, current No. 2 in the world, and Her Royal Highness, Princess Brianna of Catalinius.”
The crowd erupts. It’s overwhelming and humbling.
Blake gives my hand one last squeeze and lets go.
Oh no! They’ve been filming us holding hands. That will make the news. It’s too late to worry about that, though.
“Let’s have some fun,” Blake says, as we walk out of the tunnel.
“Absolutely.”
I take my first step onto the sacred Centre Court grass at Wimbledon. I’m awestruck. Sacred is an odd word to use when the crowd is roaring enthusiastically, but Wimbledon is steeped in so much tradition that it seems appropriate.
This must be how commoners feel walking into the throne room to meet the king. I never understood it before. I do now. It’s surreal—a once-in-a-lifetime moment for most.
Walking toward our benches, we wave to the fans returning their smiles. It’s an honor to play in front of them. Hopefully, we won’t disappoint.
Blake nudges me. “Princes Stephen and Adrian are in the Royal Box.”
I glance at the box. Adrian is wearing a green tie. Stephen is straightening his purple one, clearly wanting me to notice. It looks like we’ll be talking later. It’s strange he didn’t send a heads-up text. We’re using the backup communication plan more than expected.
Despite trying to savor every moment, time flies. I’m pleasantly surprised that Blake is calm and seems to be enjoying himself, which helps my nerves. He’s even complimenting me, using hand signals, and talking strategy. Anyone watching would think we’d played together many times before.
I’m not sure what changed his attitude and caused him to fully engage today. There’s a part of me that hopes it’s because he doesn’t want to let me down. But his motive doesn’t really matter as long as we’re playing as a team.
And we are.
In a heartbeat, it’s match point.
Blake serves. I’m on my toes at the net in case the other team returns the ball in my direction. Sure enough, I see the ball coming, lunge right, and with a quick punch of my racquet, drill the ball down the center of the court. It bounces past both opponents untouched.
We’ve won.
The crowd jumps to their feet, cheering and clapping. Blake runs to me, lifts me off the ground, and spins me in a circle. Returning me to the grass, he kisses me on the cheek, saying, “You were amazing!”
I nod, stunned at both the win and his praise.
