Hand & Racquet (formerly Hog's Head), Wimbledon  

Of course it's a rip-off - ask the cab drivers who charge a tenner or more to shift tennis fans from the eponymous station to the actual place a couple of miles away where honoured Brits are ritually humiliated by streetwise catgut-clever kids. A box on a shelf saying 'Tennis Balls' is about their one nod to their chosen name. But it's easy enough on the throat, the eye and the backside. A medium sized place - and surrounded by the competition - the simple pine tables and chairs and occasional leather(ette) sofas are comfortable enough. IPA, Abbot and Black Sheep feature and the fuel-food menu is par for the course. A hint to its targeted clientele may be the bins providing copies of 'The Australian ' and 'The South African' and the sign behind the bar advising that biltong and dry-wors are available. Mind the crisps were nice as well and the young barman remained staggeringly patient when Dino couldn't quite understand why the one-penny coin he had (inadvertently, he insists) included in a number of one pounders, wasn't quite meeting the bill. Nice people. Ordinary bar.

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