Chapter 8- King's Hope Tennis Club

The sun crept above the horizon, casting a warm glow as the red Porsche 911 zipped down the road. The rhythmic thumping of tennis rackets in the trunk set the tone for the day's adventure. Behind the wheel, Erick, sporting stylish sunglasses, had Derrick as his passenger, and Samira sat comfortably in the back. As they drove through the streets where they used to play tag and hide-and-seek as kids, nostalgia filled the air.

Erick, gazing at the familiar surroundings, couldn't help but reminisce. "This place hasn't changed at all," he remarked. Derrick countered with a playful smile, "It has; you're just nostalgic." Erick chuckled, glancing at Samira who was engrossed in her phone.

"Samira, where do you come from?" Erick inquired.

Samira teased, "What do you mean, I'm a Brit."

Erick, trying to be politically correct, replied, "Okay, then."

Samira, with a glint in her eye, admitted, "Don't mind me; I'm just winding you up. I'm from an island in Africa called Zanzibar."

Erick's eyes lit up with recognition. "Oh! Isn't that where Freddie Mercury came from?"

Samira beamed with delight at the acknowledgment. "Yeah, yeah. You're one of the few people who know that."

The journey continued until they reached their destination—an old building with rusty gates and a sign that read "King's Hope Tennis Club." As they entered the gates, the sounds of bouncing tennis balls filled the air. Erick, carrying a bag of rackets, couldn't contain his excitement. "Now, this place, it's not just nostalgia talking."

A few guards and janitors couldn't help but notice Erick's presence. One of the janitors murmured, "Isn't that...?" while a guard confirmed, "Yeah, it's him."

As they reached a specific tennis court, they noticed four 5-year-olds, two boys and two girls, playing doubles. The kids stopped in their tracks when they saw Derrick, and a chorus of greetings filled the air. "Good morning, Mr. Derrick," they chimed, to which Derrick replied with warm smiles and, "Good morning. Just continue with what you were doing."

They settled down to watch the young match, enjoying the delightful sight.

Samira couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh, how adorable!"

Derrick, with a grin, added, "They're cute and adorable alright, until they start throwing tantrums, then they become walking advertisements for condoms." Erick burst into laughter, remembering their own childhood antics.

Erick reflected, "Remember how we were, though? We weren't any different."

Derrick, standing at the court's border, nodded. "Yeah, I remember, but Dad and Mom used to be very strict with us. We knew when to toe the line."

Erick smiled.

Derrick eventually called out, "Okay, you can stop now. All of you, come over here."

He gathered the kids closer and asked, "Do you know who this is?" The kids gazed at him, and one of them exclaimed, "Yeah, yeah, I know him. I saw him on TV with Dad. You're the Wimbledon champion, Erick."

Derrick, unable to resist the enthusiasm of the kids, glanced at Erick with a playful grin. "And who wants to see him play?"

The kids erupted with excitement, shouting, "Yay!"

Derrick chose Francis to start the match, but Samira couldn't help but express her worry. "But, love, they are just kids."

Derrick assured her, "They are here to learn, and what better way to learn than from the best?"

A match was set between Erick and the kid who recognized him from TV.

Erick grabbed one of his red rackets and, as he prepared to serve, he was transported back to his youth, to the days of junior championships. Bouncing the ball a few times, he tossed it into the air, closed his eyes, and served it with precision, the ball reaching just above the net. A bullet shot forth, and the kid had no chance. Derrick couldn't help but announce, "That's an Ace! Fifteen-love," as the series of powerful serves continued until the kid fell in a valiant attempt to catch one of them.

As the young player tumbled, Samira, now a bit concerned, asked, "Are you alright, kid?"

The kid quickly brushed off any worry and broke into laughter. Derrick assured everyone, "He's alright."

Erick, though, wasn't quite satisfied. He looked at Derrick and said, "This is no fun at all. Bruv, just take the racket. I know you want it."

The kids listened intently, and Derrick hesitated before saying, "No, the racket is not for my hands anymore. Now I just teach the way."

Erick, with earnest eyes, implored, "Please, just for me."

Derrick finally conceded, "Hmm, okay, just one game. I serve."

The kids couldn't contain their joy, shouting in excitement, "Yes!"

Derrick picked up one of Erick's red rackets and shared a kiss with Samira for luck. She whispered, "Good luck," and then Derrick began to bounce one of the tennis balls. As the match began, the guards and janitors who had been watching from the sidelines now moved in to watch more closely.

With the ball in Derrick's hands, he served with moderate speed. Erick, using his seasoned skills, returned the serve with bullet-like precision on the other side of the court. A sudden burst of energy and exhilaration surged through Derrick, a feeling he hadn't experienced in years. He was instinctively drawn into the game, and he executed a perfect drop shot that caught Erick by surprise, causing the ball to hit the net.

The kids were ecstatic as one of them exclaimed, "Fifteen-love."

Derrick observed Samira with a mix of excitement, surprise, and pride as he prepared for the next serve.

He served a second time, this one faster than the previous, and Erick, the seasoned player, caught it with a defensive slice that included a bit of backspin. Derrick, seemingly reinvigorated, returned the ball with even more power, but it sailed out of bounds.

The kid announced, "Fifteen-all," and more people gathered around the court, captivated by the match.

On the third serve, due to Derrick's untrained hands, the speed was slower, and without mercy, Erick returned it with a speed that could rival the Flash. The kid excitedly called out, "Fifteen-thirty."

One of the guards shouted, "Come on, Mister Robertson, you can do this!" While one of the janitors added humorously, "They are both Robertsons, you idiot."

Derrick threw another serve, but it was a fault. Erick on the other side acknowledged, "That's a fault." Derrick attempted another serve, but it was yet another fault.

Erick let out a disappointed tsk and shook his head, muttering, "Tsk. Tsk. Tsk."

The kid named Francis expressed his disappointment, saying, "Double Fault, Mr. Robertson. Fifteen-forty. I can see why you no longer play."

Derrick glanced over and saw Samira's disappointed expression. Determination washed over him, and he wore his game face as he served with a bullet. Once again, Erick caught it with a backward slice. Derrick, feeling the strain in his legs, managed to return it even faster, but it ricocheted back like it had hit a brick wall. As the ball came back, Derrick tightened his grip and unleashed a powerful forehand. Still, Erick managed to catch it and responded with a slice.

The crowd started to cheer as the rally continued for twenty shots. Finally, from Derrick's backhand, Erick executed a delicate drop shot just over the net. Exhausted and out of breath, Derrick missed catching it, and he dropped to the ground.

The kid announced, "That's game point, Mr. Erick."

The people in the audience erupted into cheers. Erick modestly responded, "Oh, thank you."

As Derrick rose to his feet, Erick approached to shake his hand. "You've still got it in you, brother. It was fun. We should do this again."

One of the guards behind Samira couldn't help but murmur, and the other chuckle, "Well, someone is not getting lucky tonight."

Erick put away his rackets in the bag and took a moment to check his phone. A text from Issack caught his attention: "We are willing to offer you two million pounds as suggested." A sly smile curled on Erick's lips.

As they prepared to leave, with Derrick now driving Erick's car, Erick thanked his brother. "Thanks for that trip down memory lane, and could you introduce me to the club president?"

Derrick was curious, "What for?"

Erick explained, "It's disheartening to see this place in such a state, especially compared to the academy I attended in the U.S. I want to make a donation."

Samira's eyes widened as she became subtly impressed.

Deric answered " cool, Okay brother, I will talk to him"

As the Porshe zipped through the streets