Wow Wimbledon!

I dragged Hubby out of the comfort of The Dorchester to line up ... er... queue for tickets at Wimbledon. Not that I had any hopes that we could actually lay our hands on court tickets but I thought, well, we're in London ... what the heck ... it was worth a shot to get into the grounds, at least. So there we were on a train to Southfields on our first day in Majestic London ...

We bought some tasteless hamburgers and powdered chocolate mixed in boiling water and found our place on the queue ... #300 and 301, the queue cards read ... Goody. It was still a bit chilly out (thank goodness that as the day progressed, the weather improved dramatically) but I was soon warmed, 40 minutes after we got onto the queue, when the "stewards" happily announced that our "chaunces" were good for Court 1 tickets to the Women's Doubles Finals. So we thought, our "chaunces" must be even better for a perch on Henman Hill, and as we were early, a good view of the giant tv screen that was to broadcast the Men's Finals -- Live!

And what a final it promised to be -- my man Roger Federer vs. two-time French Open champion, Rafael Nadal (the only player on the tour who can claim a head-to-head lead over Roger -- 6 to 1).

Security was strict (you had to pass through double metal detectors and subject yourself to frisking) but pretty soon, I had in my hands Ground Tickets for only £5 each!

Henman Hill (or soon-to-be Andy Murray Hill, I expect) became a throbbing, champagne-drinking, smoking, laughing, jeering mass of manic fans. The Hill applauded each time the sun peeped out from behind the clouds. As is the custom, we ate strawberries-and-cream, but contented ourselves with simply watching champagne corks flying across the Hill. (It is also apparently the custom to cheer when someone gets hit ... )

This was our view from our perch at around 11 am (Looks farther than it actually was) before most of the crowd swooped in ...

2 teenage girls (one brunette, the other a redhead, see picture above) sat in front of us on the sloping grass. They whispered and wiggled and giggled and braided each other's hair and ate ice cream and drank cokes and, generally, annoyed the hell out of me. I thought, Hmph ... obviously Nadal groupies ... not tennis fans at all. They cheered each time Nadal won a point, giggled when Rafa adjusted his wedgie, and squealed in delight at each close-up shot of the No. 2 seed on the gigantic tv.

An Australian girl beside me was better company. She was a genuine Federer fan (she knew all his year-to-date stats and win-loss records), queued from 5 a.m. to get “good seats” on The Hill, and missed work the Friday before to watch Nadal’s semi-final match (throughout which she claimed she wished for him to lose to Marcos Baghdatis). In addition, she was also glad Amelie Mauresmo finally won what we both believed to be her first Grand Slam title (Her “walk over” to win the Australian crown was anti-climactic and unfair …) My kinda fan …

The match was EXCELLENT!!! The 2 annoying teenage girls were relatively quiet the entire first set, which Nadal lost embarrassingly at 6-0, for most of the tiebreak on the second, and then also after Nadal lost the match at 6-3 on the fourth. And my man, Roger, won convincingly against an opponent many thought was THE ONLY MAN who could dethrone him.

The atmosphere ... The experience was like ... like ... your first car ... your first ever paycheck ... your first bite into Godiva chocolate ... English cream (with anything but the overrated scones ... pronounced sconz, we were told) ... a hard massage after a long day’s work ... getting promoted ... witnessing your boss mess up before his bosses (again! and again!) ...

Willing the feelings to last me till Manila, I bought an official Wimbledon tee for £23!!! Over the budget but, man, oh soooo worth it.

Feeling like I can do anything (Hey, everyone said it would be impossible ... but I was really really there!), I secured an application for the 2007 Championships ... I'm keeping my fingers crossed ...