Wimbledon Tennis Adventure (part 1) - Do or Die

As a young boy, I watched young Tim Henman try and lose over and over again. 14 years older, I resolved to visit Wimbledon to see poor old Tim try again.   My story involves weeks of preparation, trying to work on a thesis inside a tent on the sidewalk queue of Wimbledon Park Rd, and countless hours of standing in line. This is my Wimbledon adventure....

It was early June when I started organising for my trip to the Holy Grounds for tennis. It has been my dream for a long time to touch the grounds of this mystical place and I was determined that I would do so this year, no matter what.

As a youngster, I remember watching the rain pour down on to the tents of the lawn tennis courts at Wimbledon well into the early hours of morning. My eyes would shine when the sun finally broke out and the players came out on court. Martina Navatrilova, Steffi Graf, Stefan Effenberg, and Pete Sampras turned into the Williams sisters, Sharapova, Federer and Nadal. I continued to watch and was still entranced with Wimbledon and tennis in general.

A year ago, I tried entering the public ballot for a Wimbledon ticket. I filled in a lengthy application, only to never hear from them again. It was as if my application had never been sent. Then I tried Ebay and other ticket vendors. Tickets would have cost at least double, but more typically triple or quadruple. Normal centre court tickets vary from about 40GBP to over 80GBP, but these were selling for hundreds on Ebay. Besides, unless they were debenture tickets (normally costing thousands), they were not legally transferable.

In desperation, and since this is the last year I would be in England, I scoured the Internet looking for instructions for queuing at Wimbledon. After searching for days and accumulating information from everywhere, I finally confirmed my suspicions that the only way I could get seats to the show courts (centre court, court 1 and court 2) was to queue overnight.

This is my last year in England, and I would queue overnight even if it killed me! I went out and bought a tent for 24GBP, a sleeping bag for 12GBP, and an inflatable pillow for a couple of quid. The total was just slightly pricier than a mangy bed and breakfast near Victoria Coach Station, and smelled quite a lot better. Besides, I now had a portable room! Totally worth it.

 My 24GBP tent!

Despite the information available of the internet about queuing overnight, I was still apprehensive about the impending trip. A website indicated that there would be ‘showering’ facilities, while others said that only a few portaloos (portable toilets) were available for overnight queuers.

I wasn’t sure what time I should go to the queue either, with some websites saying that you had to queue from midday from the day before, while others claimed that midnight would be fine. Only 500 seats would be reserved for each show court, divided into the South and the North Queues. That’s a total of 250 seats per queue.

I couldn’t convince anyone else to come with me, so I would be in the queue all alone. Would I be allowed to leave the queue? Would my tent get stolen if I left the queue? I knew takeways outlets served the queue, so I wasn’t too worried about food. I worried a lot about everything else though.

I’d never camped outside before. Would my small tent hold out against the elements, and the continual downpour? Would the tent blow away? Would it rain on the day of the competition? Would I freeze to death at night? How hard and cold were the pavements? Would I get any sleep, and if not, how could I enjoy the tennis? How much work might I be able to get done while in the queue? I still have a thesis and my regular day job as a student to think about.

Armed with what knowledge I had from the Internet, I set off on my voyage with a funny looking foldable tent draped over my shoulder and my sleeping bag inside my luggage.  I was worried, and even slightly apprehensive, but I was going to see Wimbledon and Tim Henman. And I was finally going to become a proven tennis fan.