DIARY: Down, tiger ...

Another Wimbledon, another example of what the British do best at tennis - fail. Tiger Tim's quarter-final exit may have dampened some spirits but Diary was far too busy knocking back the Pimms-on-tap (a service that has caused outrage among the old guard at the All England Club) and munching posh nosh in the Members Enclosure to worry about that.

No, Diary's biggest worry was the weather. Happily it stayed fine and the services of Sir Cliff singing-in-the-rain Richard were not required, but the not-so-young one was on-hand to flash his perma-tan smile at guests arriving for fine dining. Sporting a striped crushed velvet suit, he was overheard bragging that bookies had been taking bets on the colour of his daily attire and the previous day's number - a Technicolour yawn, sorry, we mean Dreamcoat - had sparked confusion as to who had won.


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