Yesterday evening, I watched a bit of the marathon tennis match between Nicolas Mahut and John Isner at Wimbledon - at 59 games apiece in the final set, it is, at the time of writing, still unresolved. The match duration is already over ten hours. The fifth set alone is already longer than the previous longest game. Still, these two journeymen pro's kept going, and somehow maintained an impressive standard of serve-volley tennis. Incredible.
Is it just me who, on watching the players become increasingly hollow-eyed, was put in mind of The Long Walk by Richard Bachman? Please tell me someone else thought something similar, at least? Were the crowd so rapturous in their applause purely because of appreciation, do you think? Or morbid fascination?
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