Poor Serena, but then who gives a duck; certainly not Ted

TV VIEW:WE FEARED for the little line judge, sensing she would indeed need that tennis ball surgically removed from her throat, the spot where Serena Williams had threatened to ram it. She was, perhaps, most at peril while scurrying back to her seat after reporting Williams to the umpire for the second time. For a brief moment, you sensed the official, complete with ball in gullet, was about to be volleyed out of Flushing Meadows.

In the end, mercifully enough, she was undamaged.

As luck would have it, CBS had none other than John McEnroe in their commentary box for the game, giving them a “been there, done it, bought the T-shirt” expertise on volcanic eruptions.

“You CAN’T call that!,” he howled when Serena was foot-faulted, reminding us that he enjoyed being called up for this offence during his career almost as much as Dustin Hoffman savoured having his teeth drilled by Laurence Olivier in Marathon Man.

McEnroe, though, while sympathetic towards Williams, conceded that (allegedly) threatening to kill the line judge might have been pushing it a bit, and while flattered by her declaration that she idolised him, suggested “maybe she idolised me for the wrong reasons”.

Sky Sports held their post-mortem on the affair yesterday, Marcus Buckland still ashen-faced by what he had witnessed. Annabel Croft and Greg Rusedski, though, were less inclined to castigate Williams, while accepting, like McEnroe, that she had, just maybe, been a touch too aggressive towards the official.

“You’d have to be a saint not to have felt very, very angry at that particular moment in the match when the foot-fault came,” said Croft, a point made in one of the emails read out by Buckland. “Good on Serena for standing up for herself, tennis has always been out to get the Williams’ sisters,” it said. Next. “The Williams’ sisters think they’re above the game, it’s about time one of them was punished.”

With that consensus reached Buckland decided to move on, which, you’d imagine, tennis will do too. A sporting great loses her head and steps way, way, way over the line? A story as fresh as Methuselah. We’ll live.

And Williams wasn’t the only sportswoman to mislay the plot over the weekend. All the people at the Curragh asked was that Lady Marian take her place in the stalls for the Blanford Stakes on Saturday, but she was having none of it.

Ted Walsh looked on as she kicked out like Buckaroo, threatening to ram her hooves down the throat of anyone who came near her. “Ah, she’s not going to let the stall-handlers put anything around her arse, she’s fairly kicking out, she’d pick six penny bits out of the sky,” he said. “She’s one lady who doesn’t want anyone putting a hand on her backside.”

As is often the case on these occasions there followed a short silence in the commentary box, before Robert Hall composed himself and noted that Lady Marian was ready to roll. “Go on, sweetheart,” said Ted. We held our breath, waiting for Lady Marian to reply: “Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, you blankety-blank.”

Bedlam briefly threatened too at Shelbourne Park later that night, when a duck landed beside the track. “The connections will try to make sure none of the dogs spots the duck or they might get a little bit excited,” said Michael Fortune, fearing the Irish Derby competitors would be last seen charging down the M50 in pursuit of Donald. Luckily, the duck took flight before any of the greyhounds caught a glimpse of it, although, to be honest, dogs that spend their days chasing mechanical hares probably wouldn’t know a live duck from a jar of peanut butter.

Time for the big race. A cheque for €175,000 awaiting the winner. What recession? The canine world, evidently, is still awash with money. Think how many Pedigree Basted Beefhide Crunches you’d buy with €175,000. No wonder, then, that College Causeway ran like, well, a hare. We thought Oran Classic was home and hosed, but College Causeway’s supporters knew better – ‘Faster than Bolt’ read their banners, and they were right too. If it was the duck he’d been chasing we’d be talking number 64 on the takeaway menu, ‘shredded’ with a ‘basted beefhide crunch’.

“I think he knows that he’s special, look at him the way he’s surveying the scene,” said Michael as he strutted past his adoring fans. The dog, that is, not Michael. “He’s already had a period at stud this year, folks,” said Michael.

“He spent about six weeks on stud duty with the donkeys down in Portlaw, Co Waterford.” Now, we’ll admit, we know marginally less than nothing about greyhounds’ love lives, it’s not a subject we often Google, but “on stud duty with the donkeys down in Portlaw”? Are we talking baby donkhounds here?

If that’s the case good luck to everyone at Shelbourne Park trying to squeeze College Causeway’s youngster in to the traps. As Lady Marian might put it, “in your dreams, pals”.