So far, the only touristy thing I've actually paid money for in London is, surprise, surprise, a visit to the All-England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club. And let me say, it was worth every penney (yes, they say penney, strangely enough, and not pence). We started off the day at the club cafe, getting strawberries and cream and scones with clotted cream...this tradition exists for a reason--Wimbledon does strawberries pretty darn well. Next up was the tour of the grounds, and this two-hour-long extravaganza was just that.
We learned about the history of the tournament, which strangely enough started as a local club fundraiser when the "pony roller"--the giant tool used to flatten the grass courts--broke in two. The joke goes that that's the last time a Brit won Wimbledon--because it was only Brits there! The fundraiser was so successful that they continued it, eventually morphing into what we all know as possibly the most prestigious Major of them all.
Then we got to go around to all the courts, including Centre Court. We stopped for a history lesson atop Henman Hill, so named for the scores of Brits who congregate there to watch him, well, lose. They're starting to think that Murray is Britain's new best hope, so we may be seeing the rise of Murray Mound someday soon.
And lucky me--I got to sit at the press interview desk, where tennis legends like John McEnroe, Rafael Nadal, and I guess that Federer guy have all sat. The UK government and Wimbledon authorities actually require players to accept an interview from the press if asked--with the variety of channels covering the tournament, a losing player might have to recount his failure to his own public, his opponent's public, the British public, and possibly other stations...and if the player refuses, he gets slapped with a nice fine. Go figure.
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