Verbal serves galore as pollies make a racket
It was -3.1C at 7.05am yesterday when former world No 8 tennis pro John Alexander arrived with the new balls.
With tennis whites swapped for track pants, a small number of politicians braved the icy courts at Parliament House for their regular sitting-week social game led by the Liberal member for Bennelong, who in another life won seven singles and 27 doubles titles.
Josh Frydenberg, Labor leader Anthony Albanese, Labor MP for Wills, Peter Khalil, Labor MP for Moreton, Graham Perrett, Nationals MP for Page, Kevin Hogan, Labor MP for Fremantle, Josh Wilson and new Liberal MP for Reid, Fiona Martin, lined up for a hit.
The teams aren’t typically drafted down party lines — last week, Frydenberg and Albanese won together. But this week’s centre court attraction is a Labor v Liberal special: Albanese and Khalil up against Frydenberg and Alexander.
Frydenberg’s teenage mullet days at the net have been well-documented. Yet from the drop of the first ball, it’s clear the tennis-loving Treasurer’s mouth is getting a tougher workout than his racquet. “The best thing about this game is that if you have a go, you get a go,” Frydenberg exclaims to big laughs.
“He talks a lot,” Khalil remarks from the baseline. “He’d be banned at Wimbledon.”
“Tell Khalil to save his backhanders for the court,” Frydenberg hits back.
After a few forehands land out, Albanese removes his watch. “You should keep it on,” Alexander quips. “It’ll help with your timing.”
It’s an ominous suggestion as a Khalil serve whizzes pasts and accidentally clips Albanese’s left ear.
“It’s the people behind you you’ve got to watch,” Albanese jokes. “Well, it is the Labor Party,” Khalil replies.
There’s a lot of spin, but not from the shots on court.
Frydenberg makes a victory cry after each Liberal point.
“That’s one for the Tories! Another win for common sense!”
“Does there have to be a slogan every time?” Khalil asks.
“The thing about this mob is, he always talks himself up. Just ask him,” Albanese says.
“That’s because we’re always winning!” Frydenberg replies.
All four win their serve, so they decide to play a tie-breaker.
Albanese aces Frydenberg: “He was too far to the right! We were down the centre to victory.”
Khalil and Albanese are a formidable team, despite the Labor leader sporting prescription sunglasses (he says his regular glasses tend to fall off mid-match).
Alexander brings the racquets but he’s not the only former pro. Khalil competed on the international circuit and was once ranked No 25 domestically for singles.
Albanese jokes that Khalil is the Nick Kyrgios of the group, after the backbencher hits his racquet with disappointment after missing a volley. He calls out directions to his boss: “Yours!” “Up!”
Yet the Labor leader is more than just a social player. He’s in several weekend comps including one that’s so serious they had to stop mid-match when a player’s shoes weren’t deemed white enough by an umpire.
Frydenberg ducks as Alexander hits a winning overhead smash to break 3-2. “Thirty Newspolls behind but one tie break in front,” Frydenberg claims.
On the outside court, it’s clear Perrett’s razor wit isn’t reserved just to question time. “That ball cut through like a Frydenberg line in QT,” he says, as a shot by lob master Hogan hits the net.
“Graham, you can write a book but you can’t hit a forehand,” Frydenberg fired back.
Perrett chants back “Brave, brave, Sir Robin”, in reference to the Treasurer’s “Sir Tax-a-Lot” quip deemed “unparliamentary” by Speaker Tony Smith.
That doesn’t faze Frydenberg, as he ends the tie break 6-2 with an ace. “That’s one for the quiet Australians!” he shouts.
“He is the loudest Australian on earth,” Khalil retorts.