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Anorak | Tiger Tim Henman And Roger Rabbit Federer Come Home To Wimbledon

Tiger Tim Henman And Roger Rabbit Federer Come Home To Wimbledon

by | 26th, June 2007

henman-federer.jpgTIM Henman is really putting the “RAIN OF TERROR” (Sun) in perspective.

If Tim can just hang on in there until the rain stops he might win the top prize. But how to keep it raining?

“Timbo fires up Wimbo,” says the Sun as “HENMAN SHREDS OUR NEVER AGAIN”. “Nailbiter!” says the Mail’s front page as Tim makes heavy weather of trying to defeat Spain’s Carolos Moya in fading light.

If Tim is to make it 38th time lucky, he needs help. Tim’s fans can make ‘rain shakers’ by pouring their medication into empty tennis ball tubes and sabotage the sprinkler system. But can they keep it up for the entire Wimbledon fortnight?

We wish them well. But the Sun has already given up. “FORGET that Timbo won’t win,” says the paper, the words hanging like an epitaph over a picture of our Timmy stretching for glory.

But we will have our hero. And know that Roger Federer is “A BRIT”. Oh happy day. What joy indeed to discover that the top player is as British a chicken tikka masala, Her Majesty The Queen and the Nissan Micra.

Roger’s mum and grand mother were born in South Africa but Roger’s great, great grandma Mabel Chamberlain was born in England. What more noble and trusted English name than Chamberlain?

Says Lynette: “We’ve always thought there was a British ancestor somewhere along the family tree.”

The hunch, moreover dream, was right. And the Sun is already applying for British citizen ship on Roger’s half.

We hope it goes to plan and Roger takes on his new national identity with gusto.

And that very soon he is struggling in the opening rounds at Wimbledon before succumbing at the death as changing women draped in Union Jacks swoon at his name and the papers hymn his praise with headlines such a “Roger The Bodger”, “Fed Up With Your Losing” and “You Swiss B*stard”.

Of course, when the tennis fails Rogo can always become a tennis personality by placing his arm around ball girl’s shoulder, kicking a ball over the net or offering his racket to a member of the crowd.

Come of Roggy… Grrr!



Posted: 26th, June 2007 | In: Back pages Comments (5) | Follow the Comments on our RSS feed: RSS 2.0 | TrackBack | Permalink