Back from Wimbledon

Good evening everyone. I am back now from my week at Wimbledon and it’s time to catch up a little. Now, Wimbledon is one of those quintessentially British events that no one else can match. There are plenty of tournaments on the “tour” but none have the prestige and glamour of Wimbledon, and to be there, to be part of it, is something special. And this year we had the benefit of some excellent tennis. It was a shame to see dear old Andy Murray fall by the wayside before the semi-finals, but I suppose you can’t have everything.

It was also delightful to see that fine young lady Johanna Konta play so well. I hope that this time next year I will be celebrating a new British ladies champion. Such a lovely young lady.

It was a delight to meet up with the usual crowd. I had more than one interesting afternoon in the company of Sir Cliff and the wonderful Mrs May. Cliff is looking his age these days, I think the events if the past year have really taken their toll on the poor man. I have to admit to being slightly in awe of Mrs May. She has also been through quite a lot over the past twelve months or so, so it was a relief to see her so relaxed.

I do enjoy my time at Wimbledon, but this year it was spoilt more than a little by the presence of a very loud and even more opinionated American. I made the mistake of inviting my good friend Dorchester and his new lady friend, Annabel. Whilst Dorchester and I have known each other for many years, I only met his latest conquest last Saturday. Spending so much time in close proximity to a friend and his lady love is not something I would advise. It has been a frightful experience that I have no intention of repeating any time soon.

Spending the week with an American has done nothing to change my opinion of them. If anything, it has strengthened my views. Not only are they loud and opinionated, they have also managed to butcher our beautiful language. Not only have they changed the spelling of perfectly good words, they have started inventing some of their own. Annabel got rather upset when I pointed these things out to her, especially after she had told me her family were in Real Estate. I mean, what on earth is “real estate”? Do we have any unreal estates? And where did the job title Realter come from? What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned Estate Agent? Annabel took exception to my criticism of her fellow Americans and refused to speak to for the rest of the evening.

Americans are a strange breed. I have heard it said that we are two nations separated by a common language, and I can honestly say from my own experience this week just how true that is.

But, aside from problems with my guest, it turned out to be a very good week. The weather was very kind to us this year with beautiful sunshine for virtually the whole week. Despite going out early, I did see Murray play some wonderful tennis. And to watch Federer win a record breaking eighth Wimbledon title was a real privilege.

Once again, I am glad to be home. I have a couple of days before I travel north to catch the final two days of the Open. Time now to catch up on what has been happening down at the Club.

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