It seemed like a great idea at the time, early start, get into the famous "Wimbledon Queue" and get into see the tennis. So, a beyond early pick-up, a meet up and taxi ride later we found ourselves 1508 and up in the queue. What we thought was early, turned out to be fashionably late. Nevertheless, we hunkered down, saw in the morning with surprising good cheer and after 7 hours of waiting, we walked into the hallowed grounds of the All England Lawn Tennis Club, we were in and ready for tennis. This, to put it mildly, is where things didn't go according to plan. Despite nabbing seats on Court 12, it turns out that spending over £200 at the bar does not entitle you to keep your seat. So, Alex, Gavin and I retired to watch the Girl's Tournament on Courts 10 and 11, where we got to see the bright hope of British tennis, Katie Boutler in action before the clouds gathered and the heavens opened. This would be a reoccurring theme, waiting and getting wet. But in the great British tradition of it being June and we will enjoy it as summer no matter what the weather does, our intrepid band made good and queuing up again for show court tickets brought out the sun for a minute or three, before rain that would make Noah wince returned. Bundled together and urging Murray on so that Centre would empty and could get in and get warm, our collective fortitude (my individual fortitude having expired many hours before when the champagne ran out) was rewarded with Centre Court tickets for Novak Djokovic versus Jo-Wilfred Tsonga. It was a master class in Men's Tennis and thoroughly worth the wait. All in all, despite the waiting, the lack of tennis and the rain, we caught some sun and I got to spend the day with fantastic friends, new and old, and didn't have to face work on a Monday morning.
Next time, I'm buying a ticket, by hook or crook, to make sure my bottom has a place to call its own.
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