On the brink of collapse. He knew it. I knew it. Hell, even the damn ball boys knew it.
And that’s what made his behavior so offensive.
I watched him cross the grass court, racket dangling at his side, two fuzzy yellow balls bulging from the pocket of his undersized shorts.
He whispered something to the umpire before disappearing into the locker room.
An emergency bathroom break. One point away from losing the club championship and my opponent needs to take a whiz.
He can’t wait.
I can though. I can wait all day.
And my revenge will be glorious.
The Weekday One Hundred 