Fandango’s word prompt today is Service.
My aunt was a fully trained Silver Service waitress in her younger days, but I’m going with sport.
I liked to play tennis at school but my bully of a games teacher always put me down for athletics. We used to have championships for Juniors and Seniors, and I remember one year how we all sat round for the Juniors final.
One finalist came from quite a well-to-do family, and as such had all the right gear……. white tennis dress with frilly knickers to match, designer tennis shoes and frilly topped socks, made to measure personal racquet and case, a pristine towel and popular drink of the time in a personalised holdall, and probably if you looked close enough, her initials on her balls.
The other was a girl who had been in my class at junior school, a skinny little thing from a single parent family, she wore the school sports kit of yellow shirt and grey flannelette shorts (god did they itch), used a school racquet from the rack, had no balls of her own so the school provided new ones for the match, and white plimsolls as we had for the summer term rather than black and white socks. She carried everything onto the court in her Mum’s best shopping bag.
Both girls were very nice, but as different as chalk and cheese from the head down.
It was a good match, well worthy of a Wimbledon final, going to the full three sets and practically match point for every game. However, one girl cracked under pressure, and on that final deciding game, her serves were nearly all ‘second’ service as she kept skimming the top of the net.
I can’t remember the final score, just that my previous school classmate took the trophy.
So in keeping with my title, it was a first win for her, and a repetitive second service that knocked the confidence of her ‘professional’ opponent, who ended up taking the Silver medal.