Choke [antikvár]

PrologueW I M B E L D O N EARLY SEVENTIES^^^/huck won the point, won the game. He sat down at courtside, picked up a towel, mopped, then reached into his bag for a dry shirt.Bud: Well, Dan, young Chuck Chandler has come a long way in this tournament.Dan: I'll say he has. Bud. Coming into Wimbledon, this boy was ranked number one hundred in the world. He started strong, then clawed his way up through the seeds, defeating two former champions along the way, and now he stands at the threshold of a whole new career. Would you say that, Cynthia?Cynthia: I certainly would, Dan. This young man has the talent to beat anybody when he's playing this well, and the charm and looks to become a new matinee idol of tennis for the young female spectators. Off the court he handles himself with the kind of assurance that we have only just begun to see on the court at this Wimbledon.