AustLit

'It's around mid-day and I'm just coming off one of the ground-pass courts with my 16-year-old sister and fellow official. As soon as we've left behind the intensity of the match, our stiff professionalism wilts. We weave steadily through the teeming crowds until we reach Rod Laver Arena's basement corridors. We surreptitiously peer into the Player Gym as we pass. David Ferrer is pounding the treadmill, head down. In the corridor up ahead is a towering blonde player, stalking to the practice courts with her coach. "Is that Maria Sharapova?" Kayla whispers. We sheepishly attempt to evade the TV cameras that swing around to cover each of her languorous steps.' 

 (Publication abstract)