My Wimbledon Experience

Every country’s flag, every spoken language, and every race came together for two weeks to experience the countdown to the new Wimbledon champion. Watching morning practices and night matches, spectators never left the grounds always wanting more. This year, Wimbledon was an exceptional year with both splendidly unexpected weather and unexpected upsets.

Safin and Nadal lost in the earlier rounds, as did Henman in a tough 5 setter against Tursunov. Serena Williams went home early, but her sister Venus made a come back to take home the trophy over Lindsay Davenport in the longest women’s finals match in the history of Wimbledon. Grosjean and Bracciali brought all they had to the court taking Andy to 5 sets in both matches, but Andy was victorious, making it to the finals. Wimbledon for the fans, though, is something beyond the scoreboard.

The Wimbledon experience doesn’t begin when the umpire says, “play”, it begins in the queue. Queuing is also known as waiting in line, at Wimbledon it is a very long line. Waiting for hours and even days in rain or shine for one a general admission ticket is the highlight of the Wimbledon experience. From children to grandparents, Henmania to the McEnroe pack, and natives to vacationers, the queue is where we all have something in common: tennis.

The queue begins at the main gate on Church Road and runs both north and south along the sidewalk with hundreds camping out with tents, chairs, guitars, and even mini- barbeques. The days begin at 5:30 am with the sun gleaming into the tents and ending at 9:30 pm when play is called and the grounds are cleared, but some have already taken their place in line hours before play has ended.

Once the queuing is over and the gates open for the day, the tickets sell out like crazy. If you don’t fancy the players on Centre Court or Court 1, ground passes are available to purchase all day long. These “golden tickets” give you access to players wandering about, practicing, and endless matches. After a long night of queuing, we would head right to the food court for some much needed coffee and a bite to eat, then grab a table in the shade and let the charades and card games begin!

With tennis on your mind, sunburn on your face, and blisters on your feet, you keep coming back for more. The grounds bustle with die-hard fans, supporting their country’s hopeful. There are the Aussies who love Hewitt and walk the grounds with green and yellow painted faces. The Americans come draped in American flags during matches and Federer fans come dressed as the man himself.

Fans come to watch Wimbledon from every country, but the Brit’s beloved Henman Hill is what Wimbledon fanfare is known for. Henmania for the natives is more outrageous than the Boston Red Sox playing the Yankees in New York. Henman hill is located on the far side of the Court 1 with a huge TV monitor showing the matches playing inside for ground-passers and sun-bathers. After a stop on Henman Hill, and indulging in the famous taste of London’s Pimms and Strawberries and Cream, we were off to practice.

Andy frequently practiced on Aorangi Court number 2, behind Stadium Court 1, and to the right of Henman Hill. He practiced and warmed-up with fellow American Robby Ginepri, Tommy Haas, coach Dean Goldfine, junior competitor Kellen Damico, and a few others. Andy was always escorted to and from practice, signing autographs on his way out.

This year’s matches ran from just over an hour to well over three hours, with several racing against the sunset. When play was done for the day, we had two options, head to the queue or head to Wimbledon Village at the top of the hill for some dinner. The walk home was long, but dragging myself out of bed and down the street to get some Starbucks the next morning seemed to be even longer.

We joined the players in the village for the nightlife as well as at Starbuck’s in the morning for the caffeine boost. It is no secret that Andy is quite fond of Starbucks, but he also found time to enjoy the city, even taking a trip with the Williams’ sisters to Nobu, a famous Japanese restaurant in London, for dinner one night.

The days turned into nights, and nights into days. We would eat when we had time, slept when we could find a quiet moment, and watch tennis for the rest of it. It was an experience of a lifetime and the jetlag was well worth it. Sitting on the plane, flying home as I write this, I have one thing I wish I could do. I wish I could take it all home with me.