Wimbledon – and Royalty
Brian McLoughlin
‘You cannot be serious!’
The Gentlemen’s Singles at Wimbledon dates from prehistoric times when men were gentlemen and wore long togs and diligently observed the Kipling line embalmed above the club house entrance: ‘If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster. And treat those two impostors just the same…’ (The finish is: ‘Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it. And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!’)
Back then, men behaved as good and proper sportsmen by showing stoicism, fair play, and of course bowing humbly to the Royal Box, because Britain is a monarchy, and the royals are to be bowed to because they are superior and in that spirit, authorities – referees, umpires, linesmen – afforded proper respect and courtesy. And that happened until John came, John McEnroe, for John was not a subject, he was one of us, an Irish backdrop, from New York, brash, temperamental, with a deep distrust of authority when they were wrong and a penchant for roaring at them to tell them so: ‘The ball was in! You cannot be serious!’
Therein lies the problem, John – they were the authority, even though most of the time they were wrong, for scientific studies show that around 80% of questionable calls made by officials and queried by players, or in John’s case roared against, were wrong. The players have the best view.
After John retired, the gentlemen’s game deteriorated as a spectacle for many years, becoming a power game. There was Booming Boris and Pistol Pete and little artistry, until 20 years ago, Roger beamed in, Roger Federer. Unlike John, Roger is a gentleman. Roger won eight Wimbledon titles, a record for the men. (Martina Navratilova was better; she won nine.)
Roger played in 12 finals and would have won at least two more had not Messers Rafa and Novak messed with his head, disrupting his artistic rhythm by taking toilet breaks, medical time-outs – gamesmanship it’s called; not gentlemanly.
Last year Roger retired and last week Roger was honoured as a Great. He and his wife Mirka were invited to the Royal Box for Roger to sit alongside his friend, the Princess, and watch Elena.
Elena started nervously. ‘Guess she was nervous playing in front of tennis royalty,’ remarked BBC pundit Tracy Austin, ‘Yes, the Princess of Wales,’ presenter Clare Balding chipped in. Clare, I think Tracy meant Roger Federer, and this is tennis, not horseracing. Still we must be tolerant; this is Clare’s first year; for many years it was the amiable, lovable Sue Barker. Sue’s retired.
By the way, Elena is Elena Rybakina from Moscow, Russia, last year’s Ladies champion, even though Russian players were banned and even though Elena lives in Moscow, she represents Kazakhstan, but that’s another story.
It’s important for Wimbledon to honour Roger’s record as eight-time Champion as Novak has seven and is still active, indeed hyper active; he’s still winning an awful lot. Though not quite the gentleman Roger is, he is not boring. Watching Novak is not like watching grass dry, for Novak would bring in a towel and help with the drying. It does rain in Wimbledon even when they have a roof.
In time Novak will be revered, just as John is today. John is revered as a commentator, analyst, because he’s colourful, eloquent, able go deep – yes, an artist – and also with a sense of humour: ‘You cannot be serious!’