Some things in this life defy description. For me, one of those is Wimbledon. I realize that many of you may see this post as odd or even downright idolatrous, but when I think about how to describe the most famous tennis tournament in the world, the right adjective eludes me. Classic. Pure. Other-worldly, perhaps? I prefer elegant.
The Anglophile in me readily admits to a bias towards anything classically British. Good tea. Tweed. Proper English grammar. And of course, lawn tennis. The fact that this event has been kept largely unspoiled after 130 years is a testimony to the beauty of tradition operating within a rapidly changing, hurried world. As I’ve been reading recent articles by professional sportswriters musing about Wimbledon, the predominant thrust of their arguments center on the “other-ness” of the event. In other words, Wimbledon’s appeal is that it is a two-week respite from modern society. Visitors to the grounds are brought into a realm where classic British culture interacts seamlessly with the fast-paced world of professional sports, and the freshness of the experience is unrivaled. Where else in the world would you go to watch lawn tennis, dressed entirely in white, while savoring strawberries and cream? I know of none other.
So yes, I admit it: Perhaps I do have an obsession. Maybe my devotion and excitement about a tennis tournament is a bit over-the-top. But if it be so, it is a passion for savoring the simple yet good things in life. Beauty. Respect. Tradition. Competition. And yes, elegance.
It only comes around once a year. Search your mind for the right adjective, and then enjoy it with me.
Drew,
Not to rain on your parade, but if Wimbeldon is really classic and elegant, then why don’t they force the participants to use classic equipment? You know why I don’t watch Wimbeldon or any other tennis for that matter? There are at least two reasons. First, I really don’t enjoy one-on-one competition. I love team sports. Second, the game has become serve and lost the volley. You once asked me why liked Pete Sampras, and I didn’t really know why at the time. Upon further reflection, I realized that he had mastered the serve and volley. The game was not merely a single, fierce stroke of violence. It was precsion and reaction. Hmmmm…maybe I’ve said too much. Anyway, it’s just the way I feel.
I agree. That is why I prefer to watch women’s matches for the most part; they tend to play a game more characterized by a mixture of strokes (i.e. groundstrokes and vollies).
drewfus. you’re still a nerd and we still love you for it
I can relate to you, Drew. In my inner most being, there is an urge to grab ahold of my Scottish heritage.
Imagine if you will, standing at the first tee of St. Andrews – a tee that was built in the 1400’s – surveying a course where legendary golfers have stood, where Bobby Jones himself loved to play…the birthplace of golf.
You make matt and i laugh