*Ed. Note: Peter Bodo is on vacation until August 16th. In his absence, we are proud to present entries written by the TW Tribe.
..if you don't have a prized Centre Court ticket and aren't willing to spend half the day waiting in line, the only way you will see the inside of tennis's most illustrious court is if you find an usher compassionate enough to allow you to run up to the top of the stairs at his portal for a quick peek inside. Don't bother to tempt the usher with some feeble bribe. It doesn't work.* -- Peter Bodo, The Courts of Babylon, 1995
Friday, April 30th 1993 was a day I had been looking forward to for weeks. My twenty-first birthday. I was in my second year at university and shared an apartment on campus with two of my three sisters and three international students.
Back in March my parents had already earmarked and purchased an antique gold bracelet as a birthday gift for me. However, in mid-April, my father saw an advertisement in the Irish Times for a package deal to Wimbledon.
The deal was comprised of two nights accommodation in a Kensington hotel and tickets for (the old) Court No.1. It didn’t take long for Dad to think of somebody in the family who might be very interested in that deal!
My mother contacted one of her best friends, a travel agent, mentioned the ad and asked about the logistics of booking the excursion. As it turned out, Mum’s friend had been looking for a similar offer for her own daughter, Marina.
I did not know Marina very well but, apart from our mothers’ friendship, we had several things in common – we were both tennis fans, medical students and Marina was turning 21 on July 9th. My elder sister, Sonya, decided to join us and the booking was made.
Sonya, Marina, and I arrived in London on Thursday July 1st. It was a gloriously hot, sunny day. As we approached our hotel on foot I noticed that it was only a few paces down the street from the Gloucester Hotel (the official tournament hotel and location of past ATP board meetings).
Sonya and Marina went into town to do some shopping while I stayed in our hotel room to watch the ladies semis. As I have difficulty walking lengthy distances, I decided I should preserve energy for the day ahead of us in SW19.
We reached the All England club around noon the next day. As it was both quite early in the day but late in the 2nd week of the tournament, the grounds were relatively uncrowded. We were strolling around the main concourse but, quite honestly, did not yet have our bearings.
Sonya walking ahead and enquired of a security guard which gangway we would need to use to gain access to Court 1. The guard replied, “As you’re so polite, you can go and have a look”. Next thing we knew, he beckoned us in his direction with a cry of “Come on girls!”.
We followed him up a staircase, turned left, and walked along the corridor until we came to a gap in the wall. And what a sight we saw… we were in Centre Court!
I couldn’t quite believe that I was actually seeing the most famous tennis court in the world right in front of me. A court from which I had watched many televised matches over the preceding eight years when my interest in tennis had first been ignited.
We stood at that gap in the wall in silent awe, making way for passers-by. Gradually, spectators began trickling in and taking up their seats. Sonya turned to me after a few minutes and said “if we’re lucky enough, we might get to see the players coming out for the first match”. We did. We saw Pete Sampras and Boris Becker warm up before their semi-final.
The match was about to begin. The guard standing near would glance over at us every now and then. I felt a bit nervous, thinking we had probably outstayed our welcome. I felt certain that at any minute he would turn to us and tell us to “get lost, fast!”. After another few minutes he did address us but, instead of admonishing us, he said “I’ll try to get you girls seats in a minute”. What??? Incredible!!!
He pointed out three empty seats, in different rows, to us. Mine was right under the roof and the view was partly obscured by a pillar. Did I care? Absolutely not! As soon as I sat down the English couple seated to my right, who seemed a bit bothered about their seat numbers, asked me which particular seat number was mine. “This one” was my instant reply! Naturally, I hadn’t noticed the seat number in my haste to sit down but I wasn’t going to relinquish it so easily either!
We watched all of the first semi and most of the second one too before feelings of guilt set in. We decided at about 5pm that we really should go to Court 1 and assume our rightful seats. There we saw wonderful doubles matches featuring Todd Woodbridge, Aranxta Sanchez Vicario, Martina Navratilova, and Mark Woodforde amongst others.
We stayed at the club until about 9:30pm, taking photos and exploring the passageways where the boards with the rolls of honour are erected. It truly was a most thrilling day. Both Marina and I knew that our favourites had been defeated in the semis and yet, unusually, that seemed like a smallish blip in the overall scheme of things.
For me, the blow seemed a little easier to take by having seen the matches live as opposed to on television. I also felt that the matches seemed to pass by at a much faster pace than it would have if viewed on television with commentary, the replaying of certain points, and breaks for commercials.
Three years later I bought what is my favourite tennis book, The Courts of Babylon (and I genuinely mean that it is my favourite!). In the chapter on Wimbledon, our chief at TW comments on the difficulty a fan will encounter if trying to get onto Centre Court sans ticket and how it’s not worth even contemplating bribing the security guards as one just won’t succeed in one’s mission. I smiled to myself on reading that!
To this day I have no idea who the two security guards were but many thanks for their bounteous action. I hope they did not get into trouble for having been so kind to us. Thanks also to my parents. I don’t think they quite understand the enthusiasm of their second daughter for a game she physically cannot play. Nevertheless they are bemused by that enthusiasm and do all they can to support my interest in tennis.
P.S. I returned to London for the Championships in ’99 and the Senior’s event at the Royal Albert Hall in ’03. I have stories about both of those occasions too. Maybe I’ll get the chance to share them with you another time!
--Vivien