WIMBLEDON — I’m over here covering Wimbledon for the 11th time, which makes this my 11th time spending the Fourth of July not just on the island from which we broke free 250 years ago, but at one of the most excruciatingly English environs possible.
This club isn’t just England, it’s All England, and many parts of it have taken some getting used to over the years. Some things I enjoy; others baffle.
Many of the quirkiest bits of Wimbledon, I’m admittedly sad to say, have been ironed out over the years. There are no longer unopened bottles of a beverage called “squash” sitting on the umpire’s chair, ready for the players to guzzle it on changeovers; in all my years here, I never once saw a player take a sip.
Robinsons no longer sponsors Wimbledon, but there are more corporate logos here than ever before in a trend that makes me feel at home.
As I walk roughly a quarter of the way around the grounds from the entrance to the media centre, I pass installations for Barclays, Range Rover, American Express, Evian, and then another American Express, and then another American Express.
They still call women ‘ladies’
Umpires have been banned from calling female players ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs’ (Photo: Getty)
Women are still “ladies” here, but Wimbledon chair umpires no longer announce a female player’s marital status – “Miss” or “Mrs” – along with her name every time she wins a game.
Their husbands’ names also no longer appear on the board of women’s champions: it took some work to know that “1980 Mrs. R. Cawley” indicated a win for Evonne Goolagong.
Air-con is a foreign concept
While there has been progress on the gender politics, other parts of England still seem hopelessly stuck in the past.
Specifically, the thermostats. I’ve experienced this country, almost exclusively, in the months of June and July.
And let me tell you, for those who are in denial: it gets hot here nearly every year. Air-conditioning indoors is a necessity, more so with each passing year. It’s been bearable this week, but last week was like sleeping in an oven.
Picnics are encouraged
Speaking of baking, the food policies here are also remarkably exotic.
Fans can arrive at Wimbledon with full picnic baskets of their own food and drink, which would be strictly verboten at nearly every US sports venue. When I used to attend NFL games in Washington DC with my dad, the team instituted strict security protocols after the 9/11 attacks.
I don’t think they ever thwarted any terrorists, so the guards at the gates always seemed most eager to capture and confiscate any illicit outside snacks that a fan might have tried to bring inside for the four-hour game. After one especially thorough frisking led to a packet of M&Ms in his coat pocket being seized, my dad lost his appetite for the owner.
The strawberries are better with vinegar – not cream
Strawberries and cream is a Wimbledon tradition (Photo: PA)
Wimbledon’s own food offerings are mostly forgettable, but the famous strawberries are excellent, always plump and fresh. But contrary to conventional Wimbledon wisdom, strawberries, which are already a juicy and succulent food, do not benefit from being needlessly drenched in liquid.
Before they have experienced it first hand, Americans uniformly expect for the “cream” to be a light and fluffy whipped concoction, only to be baffled when this thick, claggy liquid is poured over the fresh fruit.
Pro tip: skip the cream entirely. The strawberries are great, plain and unadorned, but for those craving some variety there are also several other toppings available in our media commissary that pair more nicely with strawberries: sugar, salt, malt vinegar, or if you really want to shock a Brit, a few generous splashes of Tabasco sauce.
Politicians are shamed into resigning
It is probably not directly related to the tournament, but I cannot figure out why the biggest political events keep happening in this three-week window of the year when the country is quite busy enough hosting the tennis.
There have been six British Prime Ministers since I started coming here, and improbably four of them have announced their resignations either during Wimbledon or Wimbledon qualifying. Rishi Sunak’s party lost an election, which is normal enough, but the other three – David Cameron, Boris Johnson, Keir Starmer – all left office after being relentlessly bullied and shamed into quitting by their former friends.
American politics, y’all will know well from afar, is experiencing an entirely post-shame era, so this is something I find both alien and enviable.
The royal family just blend in
Another odd leadership situation became apparent a few years back. The media seats inside Centre Court are roughly diametrical from the Royal Box, which gives us a clear view of the elites sitting inside.
It was strange, I must say, to be sitting across from an eight-year-old boy whom everyone here has already decided will rule them all some day.
Not that anyone in the stadium made any fuss over him, really. Unlike Donald Trump, who hijacked the US Open men’s final with his appearance last year, and drew boos when shown on screen, the royals here blend in pretty seamlessly.
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People actually watch the tennis
It further allows one of the most foreign elements here: when inside the stadium, people actually sit and attentively watch the tennis. Inside New York’s Arthur Ashe Stadium, paying hundreds of dollars for a ticket is mostly used to take selfies and yap incessantly with anyone within a 20-yard radius of your seat.
Despite this transatlantic gap in our cultures, Americans seem to thrive at Wimbledon. American players are at their best on grass: with impatience and attacking tennis, the high-risk, high-reward style is rewarded.
Americans play tennis at Wimbledon as they do most other things: adventurously, confidently, and remarkably undaunted by the prospect of slipping and falling on their asses in front of the world.