Nine in the morning, standing on the pavement in Strathfield, talking through the wire fence of a tennis court. New coach, new courts, new plan, far from home and cold. I nod. I smile. I leave. Walking up the road I look in the window of a Korean restaurant, filled with noisy customers sipping breakfast soup. Settling in a cafe I call my husband. I am pessimistic and annoyed, he is optimistic and excited. I return at eleven to talk through that fence again. The new coach says thirteen is the age to decide whether you are serious or not.