Something to be said for tradition..

There is something to be said for tradition. Even though we live in a very modern high tech twenty first century. We can never be without tradition. In general life, in family life, in business, in sports. My greatest pleasure comes from the old traditions in tennis.
When we lived in Stellenbosch South Africa, I enjoyed all the wonderful tennis traditions we had there; Saturdays' social games, rooibos tea for the thirst, tennis evenings until midnight with families and barbecues afterwards, league matches in Wellington where the heat drives everybody under the sprinklers on the grass before the third and final set is taken on.
In England we got hooked on the lawn tennis and of course all the wonderful British traditions...yeah, yeah, maybe a bit stiff on tv, but when you're part of it...complete different ballgame! We religiously wore our white attire on the courts and became proud of it...the carefully attended, lovely lawn courts just asked for nothing less than pure white. Happy chaps they are, the Brits on the courts...full of fun, very courteous and full of love for the game of tennis. We grew to love the cucumber sandwiches after an afternoon of tennis, some more tea, not forgetting the beer, beautiful clubhouses....a wonderful picture of tradition that deserves nothing but respect and admiration. It is a wonderful thing...playing on grass. And I should mention...I have had my most attractive coach there in England, can't really say whether that forms part of the tradition, but nonetheless, he did wonders for our tennis.
In South Carolina we had a ball! Now.... I have to be careful, since so many reading here, will be from the dear old USA? We loved it. Nothing less than perfect tennis courts, perfect clubhouses, everything you need at close hand, the latest fashions in gear widely available(I always looked stunning on the courts, so much so that my game started deteriorating...), drinks and eats to hearts desire, a very relaxed atmosphere(the game of tennis can stir up emotions from time to time, depending on how far you trail behind) and a great coach always close at hand to help with that crappy backhand.
In France we have the wonderful clay courts, which is my first choice of surface, followed by grass. Probably because it is so much gentler on all these joints. And I do enjoy the tradition that comes along with playing on a clay court. Some might find it tedious, I love it. We only play on the clay courts in summer, after they have been prepared. And this is what my sketches are all about; the sweeping of the courts, clearing the lines, sprinkling the clay and you have this beautifully prepared court ready for the next game. There is something very sporty, very adrenalin like, very professional like about sliding on the clay, giving the line a sweep with your foot just before you serve, cleaning your soles against the racket, dusting some red clay from your clothes, oh, and a big one...checking the lines for the mark! OK, it is all for the show, but it is still part of tradition and there will always be something to be said for it.
Watercolor and pen on fabriano HP.