I never thought I’d be defending Prince Philip but his recent outburst has me on his side. Surrounded by other worthy dodderers he impatiently tells the photographer “Just take the fucking picture!”, then smiles thinly. Prince William smirks in the background. It’s a wonderful comic moment. The American press speaks censoriously of his “potty mouth” and his “dropping the F-bomb”–both phrases of such sublime inanity that the only possible response is to tell them to get an effing brain. Then there was his recent question “Who do you sponge off?” uttered in the presence of a sponge cake to a group of women–such sexism! Clearly a man of great evil.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Gasquet, who won today’s quarter-final against another favorite of mine, Stan Wawrinka, in a thrilling five-set match. It was a contest between the two best one-handed backhands in the world. But it’s not just Gasquet’s superb backhand that I like; I like the whole package. He is just so understated, so mild, so self-contained–yet brilliant. It’s all about his game, not his shorts or hair or tantrums, or even his good sportsmanship. There is a purity to him that I like. He also seems very intelligent (like his compatriot Gilles Simon). I once stood next to him in Miami and noticed his calm and charming manner. I hope he does well against Novak in the semi-final. Meanwhile, I’ll keep his image in my mind as I hit backhands.