Wombles of Wimbledon

I have just returned from a week in good ol' Blighty and must say there are very few places in the world that are as fabulous as London in summer.

The amazing number of parks and gardens, immaculately kept, are the perfect playground for locals and tourists. Unlike in Hong Kong, people can romp and play on the grass, eat their lunch, jog, walk their dogs and play ball. It's so easy to sneak across from the office or the hotel, take a sandwich and a drink, and just lay on the grass and watch the passing parade.

and after work, wander to Shephard Market, in Mayfair, marvelling at the fabulous architecture; down a pint or two whilst chatting with friends outside in the sunshine at 8pm, and then visit the theatre or the opera.

My favourite past time though at this time of year is the tennis. Every year, the first Sunday in July is  Wimbledon finals day.

This year, I only just made it with hours to spare, having jumped on a plane immediately following the I Shot Hong Kong film festival awards presentation night and arriving late the night before the final.

Sunday is an early start, with a traditional bottle of champagne for breakfast amongst my three friends before heading to the court. Once at the court, we head to the Lawn Tennis Association lunch, for more champagne and great food and lots of speculation between tables and friends about the outcome of the pending clash.

With full bellies and champagne in hand, we are summoned to centre court and begin the job of  people watching. The crowd is filled with celebrities, movie stars, royalty and business heavy weights. Everyone from Bjorn Borg to Ben Stiller fill the seats nearby and we all have a bit of a perv on Roddick's new girlfriend, an American Sports Illustrated model, whom we are told by those in the know that he met when he got his agent to ring her agent after he saw her in an edition of the magazine. So much for romance!

This year, the first with the new roof on, we were bathed in sunlight. The Pimms became increasingly necessary to maintain good hydration and the crowd became more vocal as the two titans of tennis pounded each other relentlessly.

The crowd was expecting a rambunctious final between Rodderick and Federer but not the titanic struggle that we ended up witnessing. The score in the final set of 16-14 sounds more like a rugby score than a tennis score.

Once again, we were lucky enough to witness, just five metres from centre court, a historic tennis event, with Federer becoming the all time grand slam greatest player ever, stealing the record from Pete Sampras with 15 wins in the longest ever men's singles match at the All England Club.

Like last year's match, where we bet ten pounds each on Nadal's bum pulls during his serve (he has a habit of pulling his underpants from his butt cheeks two or three times before he serves), this year we bet on Roddick's shirt pulls (He grabs his shirt at his shoulder and pulls it up). He does between one and three before and after each serve. His average was around 9 per service game. I lost 80 pounds early in the match but came back strongly to be in front by 10 pounds, only to lose 40 pounds on the outcome of the match.

If you watched the match live on tv, you may have heard us counting out loud each shirt pull.

Below are some pictures from courtside, taken with my iphone.

1. As they walk on to court.

2. Wombles of Wimbledon

3. Match point

4. Presentation of the Cup