First, the old pint drinking men turned up in Red and played their hearts and dialysis machines out. It was agonizingly slow to watch them, but they seem to have found one of their balls and netted it. England won their first match 1-0, making it to the round of 16. All the barmen in England were financially secure for the rest of the year.
Second, the pipe munching, accent carrying, lip curling engineers from the fatherland threw a pie in their supporters face who lined themselves with White, Red and Gold by marching out in Black and Gold. With their oft repeated German Precision, they finally threw one back into the net well past the half way mark and made it through to the next round. To cap it, in the next channel, the Kangaroos defeated the Serbs, rejoiced and then cried as the news trickled in that they still didn't make it to the round of 16. It is back to bucketing kangaroo poop for them.
The best of all news though, came well into the night.
The Duracell bunnies now have names, John Isner and Nicolas Mahut. They played the most epic match ever. The match went on for so long that someone hit a bright idea and created a Twitter account called GrassCourt_18 and started tweeting the pains of being a grass court at the Wimbledon where two men played on like they had nothing else to do. When Mahut finally won, erm - the appeal to call it a day thanks to the deteriorating light, the match was suspended at the last set being tied at 59 games a head.
Court no 18 lives to be stomped on by an angry Frenchman and a resilient American for another day.
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