Stories Uncategorized

The Wimbledon Fortnight – Day Six: The Championships

Wimbledon. We were finally here. Read on if you want to know what it was like!

After years of hoping, wishing, praying that we would eventually attend the Championships at Wimbledon, we’d finally made it happen. We came, we Queued, we entered. Despite having been awake for hours and having drunk quite a bit more than we anticipated, we felt completely refreshed and sober the moment we had paid our Grounds ticket (£25, what a bargain!). Come join me!

Elke and Mum simultaneously: “We’re here! Can you believe it?”

Mum: “Let’s get a drink.”

Elke, after she’d queued (by that time, I simply could not get enough of it) for drinks: “Here we go. Ok, let’s go to the very first court we see.”

Mum: “Oh, I love this! I don’t know these people, but look how good they are! And look at all those ball boys! They’re so well trained!”

Elke: “Let’s finish watching the first set and then move on to the next one.”

Mum: “Oh, look, a Dutch player! Let’s go there!”

Elke, after two minutes: “Nahh, don’t care. Let’s move on.”

Mum: “Oh look, a doubles match at Court 18. There are always great matches there, which are often televised.”

Elke: “Excellent. Let’s queue.”

Mum: “This is amazing! The crowds are so excited – listen to those Australians supporting their countries!”

Elke: “And were bored watching that Dutchman.”

Mum: “When it comes to tennis players, I don’t care about which country they come from, as long as they’re good.”

Elke: “Do you even remember where Federer’s from, then?”

Mum: “Of course I do. But shush, I’m watching tennis!”

The hair looks much better, doesn’t it?

Elke: “Let’s go sit down on Henman Hill, get some food, buy a drink, and watch Kiki Bertens on the big screen.”

Mum: “Great idea. I love it when a Dutch player is doing really well at Wimbledon.”

Elke: “You do remember that you just said you don’t care about the nationality of the players, right?”

Mum: “Oh, whatever. Let’s just take a selfie.”

From here on, I don’t quite remember what happened on which specific day. I’ll just pretend it was all one long, amazing day. That’s what it felt like, anyway, since we hardly slept, woke up too early, and were simply too excited about it all.

Elke: “Oh, Giles Simon is playing at Court 18. He’s such an attractive man, let’s go there!”

Mum: “I didn’t know you were that superficial, Elke.”

Elke: “Nor did I. Let’s go anyway.”

Mum, the moment we entered the court: “Oh my, you’re right. Come on, Giles!”

Elke: “That was an excellent match. Let’s go to the next. Let’s see… Hmm, I’ve just heard people talking about how Milos Raonic’s match was rescheduled to Court Three. I really want to watch him!”

Mum: “Do we have to? There’s a massive queue.”

Elke, raising an eyebrow: “You cannot be serious!”

Mum: “Please don’t turn into John McEnroe here, Elke.”

Elke: “Am I happy we decided to come here. This is the best tennis I’ve ever seen!”

Mum: “I’m not a big fan, but you’re right. I didn’t know watching world-class tennis would actually be this impressive.”

Elke, after the match: “Mum, Federer is playing! Obviously he’s on Centre Court, so I suggest we’ll just get a drink and watch on Henman Hill. You agree?”

Mum: “I couldn’t agree more.”

Elke: “Here you go. Also, mum, we’re about two hundred metres away from the greatest tennis player of all time. Can you believe it?”

Mum: “Not at all. I have never been happier.”

Elke: “Oh, he’s playing so well!”

Mum: “Look at that backhand!”

Henman Hill crowd: “Come on, Roger!”

Elke: “So glad he’s won. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t.”

Mum: “Elke, Fabio Fognini is playing! He’s a true Italian, and a great entertainer. Let’s go!”

Elke: “Oh, I love Fognini! It’s a pity he’s so short, though.”

Mum: “You can’t have it all. He’s playing so well though, and so is his opponent.”

Elke: “Veselý, ever heard of him? He’s playing too good for our Fognini, by the way…”

Mum: “No! He lost!”

Elke: “And that’s the last match of the day, isn’t it? There must be someone else still playing, but let’s go home.”

So we went. Mum wouldn’t have minded staying just a bit longer, and, in retrospect, I wish we had. Still, we had two glorious days at Wimbledon. I think they might well be the best two days of my life.

Have you ever been to Wimbledon? Which match would you have loved to watch? Do let me know in the comments! Also, don’t forget to follow me if you want to receive an email whenever I’ve written a new post!

Notice how we simply left, without saying goodbye? That’s because I am positive we’ll be back at one point. Maybe next year?

3 comments

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: