As time goes by

When it comes to Wimbledon, the charm is in the details


One of the joys of Wimbledon is the fact that it is just that. It does not need any other words attached, it does not need clarifications. It exists by itself. This suburb of London has come to represent one of the most prestigious sporting events in the world. Every tennis star wants to win it. It’s not because it offers the most prize money — which it does — but also because it has an aura. Of class, of tradition, of ritual, of something unchanging in a world that seemingly changes so fast. What, after all, is so special about strawberries and cream — outrageously overpriced strawberries, at that — or champagne? Anyone can offer that. But even the French, with all their European chic, have been unable to sell, market and package tradition and ritual quite as well as the English with ‘Wmbldn’.

With its insistence on whites — no exceptions — and the royal box, the impression given is that Wimbledon is stuck in the past, a stickler for rules, unmoving with the times — it is the last major tournament still played on grass. Nothing could be further from the truth. Like all the other Grand slams, prize money is now equal for the ladies and gentlemen (700,000 pounds), technologies like electronic line-calling and television replays are used (Cyclops and Hawkeye) and Centre Court will soon have a retractable roof. The clothes for the lines people, referees and umpires have been designed by Ralph Lauren, the museum is interactive and e-friendly.

So what sets Wimbledon apart? Both this unique blend of today and yesterday and that arrogance of intractability, which gives the tournament an air of superiority. It is almost as if at any point the All-England Club will rule that players will have to go back to wooden racquets or that serve and volley is compulsory. What Wimbledon offers is a mooring, a security, even sanctuary. Young people, as is well-known, like a certain amount of discipline and instruction and most tennis players are very young. When they receive their trophies from the Duke of Kent, many still curtsey, as in deference not to monarchy but to a tradition that was once part of their sport.

The British have not had a gentlemen’s tennis champion since Fred Perry in the 1930s and Virginia Wade for the ladies in the 1980s. Yet, they dominate the tennis world with this one tournament, which started in 1877, where they pull out all the stops. Some have tried to buck the tradition. Andre Agassi, the maverick fashion plate, first refused to enter because of the all-whites rule. Yet, he changed his mind as he grew older and worked hard to get a title, which he did in 1992. He put it like this, “The years I missed here —  I don’t think I would have been in the mix — but I do regret it.”

Bjorn Borg, one of the sport’s greatest heroes, went to the Australian Open only once and never won the US Open. His 11 grand slam titles were on the toughest surfaces — six at the French Open and five at Wimbledon. He came back to the tournament that he used to own after 27 years this year, to watch Roger Federer equal his record. It was a magical moment for both players. Yet an early suggestion that Borg give away the trophy was struck down by the players themselves — where was the tradition if you didn’t get the trophy from the Duke of Kent?

As has happened so often in the past, the rain played spoilsport this year. Rafael Nadal played one match over five days. By contrast, eventual champion Federer did not play at all for five days. The organisers were  taken to task for taking a rest on the middle Sunday — ‘no play Sunday’ was, ironically, the only sunny day of that week. But the finals weekend was bright and sunny and a very angry Nadal was all acquiescence at the end. He wants to come back and win, he said. How could he say otherwise? Maria Sharapova, who won the title in 2004, wants at least 10.

The patina of age and ritual which gives Wimbledon its quality is important for the sport, for the players and for all of us. Cricket is going through a crisis of tradition with Twenty20, where the game has become about the results and not the process. Tennis, very sagaciously, uses Wimbledon to keep it grounded.

Then, there’s the stiff upper lip, as expressed by former US president Jimmy Carter, “New Yorkers love it when you spill your guts out there. Spill your guts at Wimbledon and they make you stop and clean it up.”

As the Brits might say, quite.