Page 96 of Clean Point

Scottie returned her next serve with ease.

15–all

Inés’s next serve was called out, and on her second serve she hit an ace, the ball landing in the corner of the service box.

30–15.

The game continued, Scottie chasing down every ball, every hit of her game perfection. The way she was able to read Inés’s next play, react in a split second, and glide across the court without missing a beat. Scottie was perfection on court, her body a tool, her mind a weapon. I wasn’t surprised when we were onto the next game, her serve, with the previous game tucked safely into her pocket. She was closing in on the set now.

I watched Scottie as she counted in her head, preparing to serve. She tossed the spare balls to the side until she finally chose the one she wanted, then the umpire called again.

‘Time violation, Sinclair.’

At first, her expression was confused, looking around the court when her eyes found the serve clock countdown ticking down to zero. Her arms fell to her side, her head shaking. I knew she was trying to keep a leash on her anger, pushing it down. And as she set herself up for her second serve, returning to that focus on her movement, a hush fell across the court as we all watched, breath held, waiting for the sound of her racket whipping through the air.

‘Foot fault, Sinclair. Point awarded to Costa,’ the umpire announced, and that was the moment her patience snapped. She dropped her ball, practically throwing it to the side, her racket pointing over at the umpire.

‘Are you trying to distract me?’ she shouted over at the umpire, taking a few steps closer to him. At first, he ignored her, waiting for her to serve, but she shouted again. ‘Well?’

Finally, he turned, waving his hand. It was impossible to hear what he said back, the crowd around me impatient, boos and whistles breaking the usual respectful hush of the court.

From the start, it was easy to see how the umpire had been slowly distracting her from her match, making all sorts of calls against Scottie, but none against her opponent. And now, one set down and the score heavily leaning in Inés’s favour, Scottie had finally had enough.

‘Keep it brief?’ Her voice echoed around the court, growing louder as she got increasingly frustrated, she took a few steps closer to the chair. ‘I lost that point because of your calls. You are intentionally being distracting.’

One look to my left and I found Jon’s grim expression transfixed on Scottie, his voice low as he murmured softly. ‘You gotta calm down, kid. Don’t let him get under your skin.’

I couldn’t hear what the umpire responded, but Scottie’s shoulders slumped as she listened to his response. Turning away from him, she threw her hands out in exasperation, left hand still grasping her racket. The umpire spoke again, but his response was once again lost in the noise of the crowd.

She faced him again, feet planted as she pointed her free hand down. ‘No, we’re doing it now. My last serve was in, and you called it out! Not to mention the fact that she’s been going over time, but you’ve not said a damn thing about it.’

Jon shook his head, his hands out as he tried to catch Scottie’s attention while lowering his hands as if to indicate for her to calm down, but she either didn’t see him or ignored his advice.

‘Challenge? I’ve already wasted challenges and time on your other mistakes!’ Both Jon and I stood up from our seats, watching helplessly as Scottie continued to express loudly her anger and frustration. Jon muttered under his breath, hands dragging over his face as he tried to keep his own actions under control.

A deep pit opened up in my stomach. Then, he caught my eye. Straight ahead, at the other side of the court sitting dead centre in the crowd. Matteo.

I immediately thought of Scottie, wondering if she knew he was also in the crowd, but when she shouted again at the umpire, I was almost comforted by the fact that she was too distracted to notice him.

‘How am I supposed to play when I’m up against my opponent and this asshole? This is ridiculous.’ Her voice cut through to me, and I was desperate to go down, intervene somehow, even if it meant calming her, but I knew better.

‘Third offence, verbal abuse. Game point awarded to Costa,’ the umpire issued, his voice booming through the microphone. Immediately, Scottie relaunched into an argument with him, wildly fighting the accusations.

It all went downhill as I watched her get increasingly frustrated, all emotions boiling over with the pressure and intensity of the game. Eventually, she gave up fighting the umpire, issuing a final challenge that he would never be on court for another of her matches again, and went back to the baseline.

But it was too late; her concentration was fried and her game in tatters. She played with too much fury, hitting the ball too hard, missing returns she would’ve easily made.

If the umpire had been doing this on purpose, then it would be mission accomplished because it took up all my strength to watch her miss that final point, sealing Inés’s win, locking Scottie out of the women’s single competition at Wimbledon for another year.

40

Scottie

Castles Crumbling (feat. Hayley Williams) – Taylor Swift

Anger like this was a real, tangible thing. A beast, living and breathing. Normally, I had a leash on it, controlling it to my own advantage. The strength that sort of rage contained was a useful tool, delivering precise serves and driving me to success when all else had failed.

But that match against Inés, with that umpire, I hadn’t just lost control – I’d let it consume me entirely.

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