Serendipity - the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way
A lot of significant events in my life can be attributed to this funny sounding word. Watching Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal play on the centre-court in Wimbledon, within a few feet from where I sat, was not something I had imagined doing. Not even remotely.
Admittedly, I am not a tennis fan. At least I feel that way when I hear some of my friends talk about being fans of the sport. I do not know a lot about the history of the sport, and neither am I able to follow it closely through its calendar of events. I do not think I even know all the rules. But I like the sport. I try to watch all the four grand slams, and I stay in touch with the news. I have been doing that since 2006. Then again, I am very poor at remembering things, let alone statistics. Maybe I am a fan, maybe I am not. That said, I really like the sport. And I really admire Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer (who does not?).
I have always believed that tennis is an expensive sport to watch. I remember the time when Federer had come to play in India, a friend had paid exorbitant amounts to watch him live. The tickets were ridiculously expensive for an event that was not a priority in the global event stage, and yet people thronged to see the legend. And by extension, I imagined getting tickets to Wimbledon, arguably the biggest stage of the sport, would be next to impossible. I already knew that there was a lottery involved, so I had to be really lucky and rich. Both quite unlikely scenarios, something I would not count on.
In January 2019, I moved to Paris to study business at HEC Paris. Among other great things, I was surrounded with brilliant people passionate about all sorts of things. I was lucky enough to make friends with some people who were extremely passionate about sports.
One night, amidst a dinner conversation, Harshet, one of the biggest sport fanatics there possibly could be, suggested in passing the possibility of him going to watch Wimbledon. He explained that it is possible to buy tickets which are “cheap” which is how a lot of travelling fans watch the games in the stadiums. Not knowing much about this concept, I told him to count me in on any such plan, should this turn into something serious.
But like most plans, I thought this would be one where one person has big ideas and everyone else(here: me) jumps in, but nothing really comes of it in the end. Not surprisingly, I never followed up on it either, because in my head it was just frivolous to even think about watching Wimbledon live.
A few weeks passed, and I got occupied with other things around me that I had completely forgotten about this discussion we had had. In another conversation with him, as the tournament was approaching, he mentioned his plans about travelling to Wimbledon with two of his friends, Harshitha and Shrina. Not knowing those two at the time, I was a little apprehensive about being part of a plan where I don't really belong. However, I did express my wish to join these guys asking for more details about the plan. “The idea was simple”, he said. “We go to Wimbledon, in south-west London, set up camp there, and if we reach there early enough we have a chance to buy tickets which are only available to those who camp.” I had never done anything else like this before, and I was quite excited about the plan.
Meanwhile, I became really good friends with Harshitha and Shrina which melted away all the little apprehensions I had about being a random person joining a trip of 3 friends.
While Wimbledon was scheduled to begin late June 2019, our plan was to watch “Manic Monday”, the round of 16 stage scheduled for 9 July. What makes this Monday special more than other days is the fact that it is the only day where all the players play. On other days, there is a possibility of our favorite players not playing due to the schedule, but on this particular Monday everyone who has qualified for the round of 16 plays.
Having very little idea about the whole queuing-for-the-ticket process, and having done even little home-work on what to expect, I reached Wimbledon early Saturday morning carrying a small backpack with one change of clothes and a sleeping bag. To be fair, that was all the instructions I had received - “Just carry a pair of clothes and a sleeping bag. You’ll be fine!”.
I met Harshet and Harshitha at a pre-decided place, before we went to the Wimbledon grounds. I was overwhelmingly surprised, to say the least, at the sight that beheld. Thousands of people stood in a queue which snaked across the whole ground, in a surprisingly organised and well-behaved way.
Seeing the very evident utter surprise on my face, they began to explain how the whole process of queuing is going to work.
People line-up for tickets everyday. Some people are there to get access just to the Wimbledon stadium, just not the main courts where marquee games are being played. Others are there to get tickets for the main courts, for a particular day’s play. As we had reached there early Saturday morning, people were queuing there for the games on Saturday, as well as the games to be held on Monday. There are no games to be played on the Sunday before the “Manic Monday”. Once you queue, the Wimbledon ticketing staff will come and hand out a “queue card” with a number on it which denotes your position. They do random checks throughout the day, and if anyone is missing from their designated places, the people behind them are moved up. As the gates open for the ticket counter, people move in based on their numbers and can buy whatever tickets are available for that particular day.
By late afternoon, we were given our numbers and since we were in the line to watch the game on Monday, we were going to spend two nights on the Wimbledon grounds. Now the whole “camping” idea made sense to me. I thought it was some play of words to make lining up for tickets sound fancy. But it literally was camping in the middle of a park for two nights. I had not expected that!
What I had in mind was quite different to what I would be doing for the next 3 days. I believed once we got our queue numbers I could go back to London and meet some friends, and come back again on Sunday to do the whole thing again. But this clearly was not the case. I was going to spend the night on a big-ass ground with just a sleeping bag, in bi-polar british weather, where it was equally likely to rain as it was likely to be sunny. I was not prepared for this!!
Once the crowd for the Saturday moved out, we were shown our designated spot to put up camp. And that is when I saw people unpacking their camping equipment and beginning to pitch tents. We had a single tiny tent between 4 people, as Shrina joined us early afternoon on Saturday. Luckily for us, some people who had queued on earlier days had just left some of their tents on the side. A lot of the people did not take the tents back with them, so there were a bunch of tents just lying around, and a steward recommended us to take at least one tent, because it was expected to rain later in the evening. Miraculously, we now had a roof over our heads, and we pitched our tents on our assigned spot.
We spent the remainder of the Saturday and Sunday playing games, getting to know our neighbours, and eating really good food. We played some football, racketball, and some card games amongst us and other fellow campers. The rest of the time we spent deciding what to eat considering we were spoilt for choice with food stalls around the camp and UberEats connecting us with all the great restaurants around the area. The grounds were well provisioned with drinking water and toilets, so we really had no worries in the world, all through the weekend.
In the blink of an eye, we were waking up early Monday morning ready to watch a full day of play at Wimbledon. We were told to report at the entrance of the ground at 8 am, so we woke up really early and started packing up our stuff to be deposited at the holding station. However, there was no way we were going to go watch Wimbledon with dirt and grease from two days of camping. On advice of a couple who have camped here several times, we took a one day membership of a gym close to the ground. We used the shower facility in the gym and we were good as new, ready for some tennis.
The ticketing counter is within the Wimbledon stadium, which is about 500m from the campsite. And the queue moves incredibly slowly, as once you reach the counter you are presented with options of the tickets that are available. Depending on your preference and what is available, you pick and then pay. It is a fairly simple, streamlined process but it is done in no rush whatsoever. Everyone is patient, and knows that they will get their turn. There is no pushing shoving at all, contrary to what I had expected. Federer and Nadal were going to play centre-court, based on the draw for the day. Djokovic was going to play in court no.2, and based on our calculations (we were placed 311-314 in the queue, and there are 500 tickets for each of the courts 1 and 2), we were definitely going to get the centre court tickets. The only question was how good the seats were going to be.
The seats were unbelievably good. We got the first row, right next to the player entrance. Watching Wimbledon from the centre-court was going to be a surreal experience in itself, but now we stood a chance to maybe get an autograph or a photo with the legends. It was just unbelievable. Our tickets cost us a neat £120, but at that point, money never seemed like any concern. We were consumed by the anticipation of the whole day, that promised to be unforgettable.
The centre court games were scheduled for later in the afternoon, so we spent time going around the stadium, watching games on other courts. As luck would have it, we were fortunate enough to watch World Number 1 Ashleigh Barty win her game from a one set deficit. We also saw Petra Kvitova play Johanna Konta.
Roaming the stadium grounds was an experience in itself. Fans from all across the world, with loyalties of not just the big names, but everyone who took court, created an electric atmosphere that made the air heavy with excitement. We saw the whole spectrum of spectators that day: from people dressed to the nines, super posh complete with elaborate hats and matching footwear to people like us who had not showered in two days. And no matter what you do or where you come from, everyone was lining up to get a taste of the Wimbledon specialities: Strawberries with whipped cream and a glass of Pimm’s. I could see why people would line-up here even if it is just to get access to the stadium. It is totally worth all the effort and of course, the money.
We took our seats, awaiting the arrival of Federer and his lesser known opponent Matteo Berrettini. As Federer walked in, all the 15,000 fans in the stadium burst into a cheer only fitting for a legend of the sport. Soon, at the umpire’s behest, the crowd silenced, and the match began after the players warmed up. The match itself was not the most exciting of games, but to watch Roger Federer, glide on the grass and play that single-handed backhand with all the finesse in the world was a treat for the eyes. Every remarkable shot, from either of the players, was met with the oohs and aahs of the crowd, with just encouragement offered by the fans. No jeering at mistakes, not even an odd boo, which I had come to expect having seen cricket and football live. Nothing of that sort. Just a really positive environment. As expected, the match did not last long with Federer cruising to a straight set victory. As he was leaving the court, he passed by the fans signing autographs and posing for photos for them. Harshitha, a Federer fan, unlike any I have ever seen, was screaming on top of her lungs, professing her love for Federer and wishing him luck for the remainder of the tournament. Federer, only a few feet away, obviously heard her and smiled back. That brief acknowledgement is a moment that holds a really special place in my memories. What happened next, though, is more of a blur for me. I stood right in front, with a tennis ball, calling out Roger’s name hoping to get his signature on it. As he kept signing t-shirts, caps and other memorabilia, I thought he was going to go past me even though I was just inches away from him. And he just plucked the ball from my outstretched hands, signed the ball, smiled and gave it to me. That was one the fastest and the slowest passage of time I have ever experienced. The signature by itself does not mean a lot to me. But the fact that I had an interaction with Roger Federer at Wimbledon and he paid attention is something very dear to me. Shrina, on the other hand, was not that lucky. But there was no time to be sad, as the next game with Rafael Nadal and Joao Sousa was about to begin. After a short break, the players walked in, greeted with a cheer that had become quite familiar. The crowd welcomed one of its favorite players, and as the players took to court, silence reigned. As the match progressed, it was fairly evident that it was not going to last very long. Sousa was not even a distant match for the ever-tenacious, ever-imposing legend. Nadal won the game in straight sets. What we saw was a display of beautiful tennis, complete with the aggression and the passion that is characteristic of the Spaniard. As the players exited the court, I tried my luck again, screaming “Rafa, Rafa”, holding the ball that was earlier signed by Roger Federer. As lucky it would seem, I now possess a tennis ball that is signed by both Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. Had anyone told me in the morning I was going to hold something that would be signed by Federer and Nadal, I would have just laughed at them. Serendipity.
After the surreal experience of watching those two greats playing, we spent some time wandering around, taking as many photos as we could. It had been a very long day, but tiring was a word that I cannot use. The day had been a heady cocktail of emotions, excitement and elation, something hard to put into words.
As we headed back to take our luggage back from the holding area, I could not help being grateful for everything that had made this day possible. Camping for two nights seemed to be a daunting task in the beginning for me, but it is as important in my memory as the day spent watching tennis. As we parted ways, I thanked Shrina Harshitha and Harshet for making me a part of something that will stay with me all my life. And I sent a small prayer into the universe for taking care of me the way it always has.
