WIMBLEDON, THE PLACE WHERE MAGIC HAPPENS

Sunday, June 21, 2009

And the magic begins tomorrow afternoon. The buzz is electric in this little town, people are tense with excitement, Andy Murray is in with a chance and the media are making the most of it. The temporary food stalls are erected, the jazz band marquee is ready, the hedges are perfectly trimmed, the flowers are delivered, the strawberries and cream are in the fridge, the 700 security guards are prepared, the Wimbledon Shops are stocked, the tills are programmed and the draw is final. Nadal is out and everyone is talking about it. The courts are green with anticipation, the ball boys and girls are practiced and kitted out in Ralph Lauren.

The tennis greats have been practicing; Federer, Hewitt, Safin, Murray, Lopez...Dementieva, Sharapova, Ivanovic. To see them in the flesh is enough to make one tear up, the realness of it all, the aura of greatness, the tradition, the all-whites, the Wimbledon colours.

So I have created the atmosphere for you. The long hours and average work have been more than worth it. When I saw Federer for five minutes knocking with Rafa and Murray and Safin and Hewitt, my trip to London was made. When I finished work at 8pm on Friday, I smiled as I left the grounds, happily exhausted. If I have to leave the UK tomorrow, it has all been worth it, just to bump into Hewitt on the path and exchange an awkward apology, or to walk past Safin at a little cafe in Wimbledon Village. Surreal I tell you.

The Wimbledon Management Team went out for a few drinks last night. A fantastic evening full of good British banter and beer. I am going to be sitting for most of the two weeks in a mysterious, dark room counting money, thousands and thousands of pounds, cash-lifting, doing the odd bank trip and then counting again. Hopefully in my break, I will be able to escape the darkness for the light of the tennis world and the grace of the glorious (and married, soon-to-be father) Federer, Murray the arrogant ambitious ace, legs-to-her-neck Sharapova, etcetera...

Spent a wonderful afternoon with Susanna (from Stellies journalism fame) and her housemates with Two Oceans wine and laughter at the Leather Bottle in Earlsfield. The Bokke nearly had a wobbly.I walked past Starbucks on Saturday, a sea of green Springbok jerseys and coffee. I stepped onto the bus (to the Barclays bank) full of green and gold scarves and Afrikaans chatter and British Lions supporters in the minority. London was excited to the core! Broke as can be but remaining happy!! Life promises so much...

I wish all my family and friends could spend a day at the Wimbledon courts, a glass of 100 pound champagne in the hand, the odd strawberry with a dollop of cream and a good laugh. The tennis would only be an added bonus. I shall write at the end of Week Two, when the play is finished, the dream has disappeared for another year and the magic has faded somewhat...and the job search begins again...