A play about world history, global hegemony, and tennis.

George W. Butterworth couldn’t help himself; his patrician upbringing has shaped his winning-is-the-only-option attitude on Centre Court at the Baghdad Open. He’s a Butterworth: ergo, victory is an entitlement. Except now he discovers his prearranged, post-game news conference in the “Winner’s Circle” has morphed into a presidential news conference.

George W. Butterworth, the champ, has transformed into the leader of the free world, the President of the United States.

Is he dreaming? Is this some sort of latent steroidal side effect? Will his trainer get the sack? Or has George actually been caught in this political pickle of international proportions?

What to do?

Blood sport by any other name would smell as sweet to George. He does what his family and his country have conditioned him to do: He’s taking the battle to the enemy. He’s beating his racquets into swords. He tells reporters he will pack his “tennis cabinet,” like Teddy Roosevelt did, with Muscular Christians. President Butterworth instinctively informs the press corps they’re either with him, or they’re with the “deuce-niks.”

And yet there is a tiny part of George that secretly would like to try some compassion, experiment with mercy — but no. Daddy’s right. That would be a sign of weakness. Oh, this little impulse is probably nothing. It’ll pass.

There is, however, one thing unsettling about the news conference that can’t be ignored. Who’s that uppity umpire up there in Her elevated ex machina? Who does She think She is? And why is She saying all of those terrible things about George?

“President George W. Butterworth is exceptional”, as in his case, we’ll make an exception.

She can’t be serious! But She did say it. It’s a fact. It was on the news. TV anchorman Victor Strangerove said so himself on K-F-U-W. He even broke into programming with his trademark, “Newsflush!”” to make the announcement.

Nevertheless, George must prevail. Just like his daddy did and his Founding Fathers before.

However, George is about to learn he is trailblazing along a well-worn, imperial path, a path where “history has been here before.”

The chair umpire makes the announcement: “Match point. Advantage, Empire.”

Holding the tennis ball on his strings, the weight of the Western World in his grasp, George is about to serve for the liberation of Iraq.

Manifest Destiny, anyone?