I only have to look back to the summer of 1994 for confidence on this the eve of Wiimbledon. It was during that summer, over a series of weekly trials, that I bested a handful of pubescent dorks for the title of Blockbuster Store Champion, the winner of their now-defunct annual video game tournament. It was a stunning achievement for an awkward 13 year-old such as myself (perhaps even more shocking was one of my friends not only finished behind me, but below a loveable blind child). I got a real top-notch certificate of my coolness which was promptly framed and hung proudly from my wall, most likely alongside a WWF poster. But the best aspect of winning (close second: the ensuing ego trip) was a shiny card that granted me free video game rentals for a full year. And, man, did I ever play some shitty games! So I guess that brings us to the present. Tomorrow will be the culmination of all those wasted hours.