FASTEN your seatbelts, cover the ears, nail down the furniture, Britain is about to go insane.
On Monday, Wimbledon commences, no Brit has won there since Fred Perry in 1936 and a Scot named Andy Murray has just won the warm-up grass event at Queen's.
Mayhem is inevitable. Murray will snarl out of every tabloid front page, be discussed by TV pundits, figure on the 6pm news, get dissected in pubs.
Then, hopefully, he won't fail.
Murray annoys people. Not me. I like his rage and I want him to win. Really. It'll wake Djokovic up, make The Fed desperate to win his 15th at the US Open with Pete watching, and put Nadal the No.1 under some pressure. This is bad?
Furthermore, Murray will put Britain out of its misery. Certainly there's more chance of him winning Wimbledon, than any of their football teams doing you-know-what anytime this century.
No one should wait so long for satisfaction, though this 73-year wait for a local tennis hero is still young compared to the Red Sox's 86-year gap between World Series titles. But it's been an agonising wait.
Tim Henman, bless his stoic heart, travelled to four quarter-finals and four semi-finals at Wimbledon, and yet all England got in the end was a broken heart.
The British also deserve a champion because they are such terrific spectators. Not like the moody French fans (how can you not love Nadal?) and the noisy New Yorkers (apparently once a fellow played the saxophone in the stands there).
Wimbledon's crowd has an amusing predilection to go "ooh", but their appealing fairness shows a fine appreciation of the game. Hopefully, when Murray wins it will not be raining for their bellows of delight will blow the new and expensive roof off.
Murray should win because he's interesting, a somewhat rough-edged young man with a game of delightful smoothness. When he won at Queen's last weekend, many of the reports stated he did not smile for the photographers as if this was somehow important.
The Scot's mournful intensity makes him intriguing, he is less voluble on court than before but still capable of mutters and grimaces, snarls and shouts. Since he is not a bad sport, this is a good thing. Athletes cannot come out of a cloning factory, they must be driven by different demons and manage them in unique ways.
Pete Sampras was an emotional man but he locked his heart away for he needed calmness to play his best. McEnroe scowled and fidgeted and could move from silly tantrum to magical touch shot in a flicker of a second.
Federer's face shows little, yet on victory his dam collapses. Nadal plays with a rage like Connors, yet the halo-ed Spaniard punches the air while the American, on unfortunate days, grabbed his crotch.
Murray is colourful and creative, he wears a hangdog looks sometimes, and then follows it by chasing down a shot he does not look fast enough to reach. He is growing up in the light of the cameras and as Agassi will tesifty that is a testing business.
The Brit is third favourite for the title. Federer is the man because he has the confidence, Nadal comes next because he is No.1 and defending champion, but Murray has the most recent grasscourt form.
Nevertheless, while his athletic and tennis skills are undeniable, part of "talent" is producing them day after day at a grand slam event whatever the weather, court condition, injuries (Sampras once won Wimbledon when his shins were so painful he could barely practice).
Beating Roger and Rafa, which Murray has done, is nice, but doing it in a grand slam final is what counts.
At the Australian Open, Murray was the hottest player, yet couldn't best Fernando Verdasco but should have; in France, not yet sure on clay, he was overpowered too easily by Fernando Gonzales in four sets. He is teetering on the cusp of greatness and perhaps Wimbledon's supportive crowd will push him over.
It will be such a miraculous moment that even the statue of Fred Perry may put down its racket and join in the applause.