The Way To Wimbledon

Penny gritted her teeth. She had lost the first set and was 4 – 5 down in the second. This new girl only had to hold her serve to take the match. But Penny had been there before, there was no way she was going to let this tournament slip away from her.
Her opponent, Moira Lloyd-Roberts, was waiting placidly at the base line as Penny took up her position, standing well back, praying that just for once this remarkable service would break down. Moira served, the ball dipped over the net, hit the very inside of the service court and was gone. Penny blinked. She had hardly seen it, let alone got around to playing a shot.
‘15 – love,’ said the umpire.
Penny trooped over to the other side but the same thing happened again and it was the third service before she even got her racquet to the ball. She returned it cross court and, as usual, Moira waited on the base line and just pushed it back over the net. Penny came charging in and volleyed and Moira lobbed it beautifully over Penny’s head into the very back of the court.
‘Out,’ shouted the girl who was the line judge on Penny’s side, but she wasn’t in the best position to see because there was only one line judge per side. Penny relaxed and waited for the score to be called. The umpire cleared his throat.
‘No, the ball was good,’ he said. ‘40 – love.’
‘What?’ demanded Penny. ‘It was called out.’
‘The ball was good,’ the umpire repeated. ‘Play on, please.’
‘It looked out to me and I’m nearer than you,’ Penny protested. ‘At least play a let.’
‘The ball was good!’ the umpire said, this time more sternly. Penny marched over to him. Moira was still standing behind her base line, idly bouncing a ball on her racquet.
‘Now listen here,’ Penny said angrily. ‘You can’t do that now. It makes it match point!’
‘I can’t take into consideration what stage the match has reached,’ the umpire said. ‘Now, if you don’t play on I’ll have to award a penalty point.’
‘A penalty point? On match point!’ Penny stormed. ‘Why, you, you…’