I started watching tennis on a twelve inch black and white television screen at a time when the players were amateurs and their racquets were made of wood. As far as I can recall the BBC (UK) had only one camera which looked down on the court from some high place. There was one commentator, and he didn’t say much. There were no pie charts, graphs or CGI to explain the plays, and no talking heads to tell me about the match I’d just watched. Today I watch on an enormous screen with a high tech five channel sound system. God alone knows how many cameras are in use. Unfortunately I have to mute the sound to avoid the idiotic prattle coming out of my speakers, generated by two, three or more people talking, often at once and mostly to each other, plus a couple of walking talking faces wandering around amongst the spectators. If I turn off the sound completely I miss the thwack of the ball and the ambient sounds of a match in progress, but If I’m lucky I can find a point at which I can still hear the sounds of the match while the chatter of the commentators is reduced to the sound of buzzing insects, annoying but tolerable. Evert is an angry mosquito. Carrillo is a fat bumblebee. My grandchildren tell me that, as an old man, I’m expected to grump about progress, but this isn’t so. Progress, particularly in technology, has much enhanced our lives in so many ways. TV Tennis coverage is not one of them.