Mirra Andreeva is in Indian Wells for the women’s Masters, which starts this Sunday, 8 November. The winner gets a Porsche. Andreeva doesn’t have her licence, and she said so in an interview: “Even though I still don’t have my driving licence, I know how to drive. I know how to manoeuvre a car. It’s not a problem for me. It would really be a magnificent reward for the winner.”
I read that on the bench, towel on my knees, and I recognised the pattern. Having the shot but not the official ranking. Me, my C15.5 (a club-level ranking), I had it. Before the injury. The paper didn’t follow, but the level, I had it.
A journalist then asked her whether she had ever driven without a licence. She answered: “No, I didn’t say that at all. I don’t have a driving licence, I just trust myself to be able to do it. But I won’t do it until I have the licence.”
That’s match management. She has confidence, she has the intentions, but she respects the framework. Me, at driving school, I needed thirty-two hours. Parallel parking, I make it. Not every time, but I make it. My instructor talked about “the zone” when I mounted the kerb. I think he was a coach originally.
Thirty-two hours is the average. Me, I needed six, but the Fiat was easier to handle in ’92.
And honestly, I can’t see the Porsche in the club car park. Court 4 already struggles to keep its lines, so a car like that next to the bubble (the indoor dome we rent by the hour) would be mistaken for a sponsor we never had.
The tournament starts Sunday. At the end, a car for the winner. Me, in club league (interclubs, Belgium’s weekend team league), you win a paper cone of chips at the clubhouse bar, and I still have to earn it.
It’s true, we checked: We Love Tennis.
