Well, you see, I didn't become a Wimbledon champion. Or an anything champion. When our college hostel wing of twelve skinny dudes decided to field a cricket team, I couldn't make the first eleven. (Luckily they didn't try choosing a second eleven. I may not have made that one either).
So maybe all that's why I am so unreservedly happy and proud that my nephew Neel is winning tournaments.
I rallied with him in March and that was tough; if we tried it again today, I suspect he'd run me off the court and I'd be thrilled nevertheless. (If gasping for breath). So go Neel!