Well isn't that good news? And isn't it nice to enjoy the scenes in the video clip, and *unjinx* that in 10 days' time, we might be seeing similar ones.
But one thing has caught my eye in that video, and it's like being reconciled with an old friend. Rafa's lilac, velour, trackie top. Because I've met it.
With Rafa in it ...
Now you know I like to hide my light under a bushel and shy away from self promotion - *cough* - and I know I never, evah mention it ... but the time when I met Rafa for real and had my photograph taken with him *faint* ... he was wearing that lilac, velour, trackie top ...
My lovely friend, Rafan, and I had a girlie weekend in London just before Wimbledon 2010 started, and part of the Saturday festivities was to go up to the All England Club, just on the off-chance - you know - that anyone might be about. We were meeting two of our other friends in Wimbledon village for lunch anyway, so we popped down to the club at about 10.10 am ... and just missed Rafa. Through the leafy hedges, we could see him going through security and entering into the Club.
Rats.
Now although t'Bossy Itinerary had it's customary culture exhibition planned for Sunday morning - a walk around the sculptures of Henry Moore ;) - we ditched the lumps of bronze and stone and thought we'd go looking at for a marble bottomed cherub instead. And we weren't disappointed.
About 10 minutes after we arrived, Rafa and the family were walking down from their rented house to the Club's entrance, and other than two groundsmen who asked him for autographs, there was no-one else to share Rafa with but ourselves. Pure heaven. Of course when he's standing right in front of you, you turn into a gibbering wreck and can barely get the words out, but he signed things for us and then Rafan managed to spit it out to ask for a photograph. Rafa duly obliged and I took the snap and then he headed off on his way. But he turned to look back and saw me with my absolutely gutted face as I thought I'd lost the opportunity of a photograph with him when he said to me, "You too?", to which I answered, "yes please, Rafa".
So he came to stand beside me, and I nestled by him into the velour of that top - not even daring to touch him - and he put that huge, bear paw of his in the small of my back and *click* ... there was my photograph. I felt like he'd scorched his imprint. I think I muttered rubbish as he was posing with me, such as "Thank you, Rafa. Sorry to impose, Rafa". And then he was on his way. Sigh ...
But like I say, I never evah use any situation whatsoever to trot out that story. Not evah ... ;)
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