I say, anyone for tennis?
Why...
Have some events managed to stay essentially the same in character whilst others have changed beyond recognition? Wimbledon is in many ways gloriously anachronistic and has stayed resolutely the same since 1877. My late father was on the board and I was immensely lucky to have watched every men’s final from 1969 until his death in 2004. Yes the event is old fashioned but still managed to sneak in the odd dollop of progress. It took till mid 60s before the All English Lawn Tennis & Croquet Club, to give it its official name, allowed professionals to compete. In the 1970s skirts went high and in the 1980s rackets just went high tech. In the 1990s Wimbledon led the way in taking a little pressure out of the balls to stop short serve and volley rallies that threatened to ruin the game... but those two weeks in July are still rooted in Agatha Christie’s England. Pimms Number 1 cup to drink, smoked salmon sandwiches, strawberries & cream to eat, and a fearsome dress code. All men must wear jackets and ties in the members enclosure, trousers are frowned on for women and no one raises their voice (John Mcenroe in his prime, the exception that proved the rule). Even now the men’s and ladies champion pair up at the opening dance at the Gala finale ball. You almost expect to see Maggie Smith as Dowager Lady Grantham complete with lorgnette inspecting the crowds to make sure no riff-raff have gained entry. And yet Wimbledon has survived, even thrived. Unique in the tennis world as a Grand Slam on grass yet with the atmosphere of a smart village fete. It’s not the quaint atmosphere that puzzles me, but why no one else has tried to copy it.
