The Real Hero of Wimbledon
I know who I will be supporting in future, and especially at next year's
Championships. Come on down George Morgan, Britain's Wimbledon boys' doubles champion. Not a star yet, but
certainly a household name in our home.
But, to be honest, the real hero
of the Wimbledon fortnight for me was actually his Dad, whose name I don't know
but who made sure that my daughter's visit on men's final day didn't end in
disaster and ensured my credibility remained intact.
At 2pm outside the
main gate on Church
Road she was unable to get in and in floods of
tears, although once past security she would have access to Centre Court with a
complimentary media ticket as well as visiting the media
centre.
Watching her standing looking at the scoreboard and
forlornly taking photos, Morgan's Dad took pity, offered her a ground pass on
the one condition that she supported his son. No problem there.
So,
forget the memories of watching Roger Federer/ Jo-Wifried Tsonga, Andy Murray's
tweener/hot dog (don't try this at home) against Ivan Ljubicic or walking
past one of my rock heroes Peter Gabriel - was he going to Solsbury Hill or
Henman Hill? - her day was saved by an unlikely source and meant that she
avoided a five-hour queue which, in the event, would have only got her in at
about the same time as the cleaners.
The rest of the
day for her was spent in one of the television boxes and then she was able to
get up onto the BBC roof and watch the post-match interviews with Novak
Djokovic.
So what of the
tournament. Djokovic's victory shouldn't come as a surprise, seeing as he came
into the event with only one defeat in 43 matches. I kept thinking at the very
biggest moment in his career he would crack, reverting to the player who used to
run out of steam, bottle and excuses. So wrong. Nole is the real thing, gluten
free and having everyone for breakfast.
You have
more sightings of the Loch Ness Monster than Rafael Nadal's imploding forehand,
but this is a temporary blip for the Spaniard. For Federer, he is now facing the prospect of a first year without a Grand Slam
since 2003. He has one more chance, at the US Open in New York, and
is convinced at almost 30 there is a lot more in the tank. Let us hope
so.
Then there
is the perrenial question of Andy Murray. Three Grand Slam finals, four
semi-finals, he must look to Ivan Lendl for inspiration as the great Czech lost
four finals before the big breakthrough against John McEnroe in
1985.
Everyone from
Boris Becker to the man at my corner shop has a view on Murray and most of them
say it is all in the mind. However, a pattern has emerged in the big matches,
with the Scot making silly mistakes and crucial times. One set up, 2-1, an easy
forehand error which would have given him two break points. Never mind, if his
career ends now he can dine out on the fact that for a set and a bit he
outclassed Nadal, one of the greatest players of all time. There is also the
rare satisfaction of a Davis Cup triple bagel against the might
of Luxembourg!!!
Apart from
Murray, the rest
of the British challenge in the singles was depressingly familiar, although we
managed to have at least one other player in the singles until 3pm on the first
Friday, which could be some sort of record.
Laura Robson is
our best hope of future success in the women, and she led Maria Sharapova 4-1 in
the first set, but must now go away and reproduce form like that in the less
glamorous arenas than Centre
Court.
In the boys'
junior final, Britain's Liam
Broady got to the final before losing to Australia's Luke
Saville. Broady hails from Stockport, the same place as our last male winner of
Wimbledon.....just don't mention Fred
Perry.
Date published :
13 Jul 2011 - 11:45:19
