Its 10:45 in the morning and as I climb in the coach all I can think about is that I only have one more night in Europe after this Monday. We got through customs alright into the UK and sat around waiting for our Eurostar train to depart from the French train station (unfortunately forgot its name because its French). As the Eurostar takes off, my seat mate arrives and we begin discussing the topics of the day. Apparantly, this Parisian who spoke very good English, is a renouned business professor and working on his book on his way from commuting from Paris to London. To be quite honest, I talked with this gentleman about everything I had experienced as an American in Europe. The funny part is that we never got each other's name. You see, this is the meaning of my trip, discussing life, understanding culture, and honestly, being human with everyone you meet. After this 2 hour long conversation me and my seat-mate went our seperate ways, me back to Heathrow at St. Pancras Station, and he to the University of London to give class and seminars as well as writing his book.
As I walked into St. Pancras Station the entire city of London it seemed to be caught up in one major event. Wimbledon, and the train station was no different. Aaron a friend of mine and I went over to a large television screen to watch Federer dismantle his first round sheep of a player. The Londoners love their tennis, and pretty much anything that goes with it. I was looking forward to a 25 hour stay in the Heathrow Airport waiting for a Virgin Atlantic flight over to O' Haire, when an idea dawned upon me. Why not grab the Tube and head over to see what Wimbledon is all about. After pitching this idea in the 45 minute coach ride to the airport I had about 4 followers and 1 uncertain girl who would like to make the Tube journey with me.
As we got to the airport the reality of the end of the trip set in. Our dean of students said "goodbye" and we said goodbye to each other because for some of us this was a departure to America from other flights. The goodbye's were heartfelt, and all of us promised to keep in contact with each other. After this emotional moment, it was difficult to get our minds set on a journey to Wimbledon. We found out that the stop we must find is Southfields and is in a perfect location in London for us to make it there by train. After purchasing our tickets we were run down by Lisa, the uncertain one, who said and I quote, "Screw this paper, I'm watching Wimbledon my dad would kill me if I had this opportunity and didn't take it." The ride to Wimbledon for me was unnerving, each stop getting closer to a tournament that I had watched as a young child. We were only there to take pictures of the gate and to say that we were at Wimbledon when the tournament was being played. Little did we know what to expect next.
As we got off of the Tube at our stop in Southfields I turned into the largest tourist that I could have possibly been. My other 5 travelers looked at me as my warn face opened up with a smile that could not contain that I was in the vicinity of some of the greatest tennis players in the world. I took many pictures of the walk over to Wimbledon, not just the stores, but the street signs, homes and people. We passed the queue in excitement to just get a glimpse of Centre Court and the cheers inside of the 1st round of Wimbledon. So, we got there, and in awe of the fact that I was within a mile of Johhny Mac, Federer, and Nadal I stood speechless. I heard the cheers of the fans, and wondered if I could be so lucky to get inside. This is when the amazing part of this excursion began.
We passed the queue a few minutes before seeing the stadium and spectators walking the grounds. Lisa had a good point, (thank God that she made it to us), we should queue up to get into Wimbledon and see if we can't get inside because the twilight pass was only 14 pounds ($28). So, we got into the line I was pass number 15,111 and as I stood in a quarter mile long line the queue attendants kept reassuring us all that we would be able to make it into Wimbledon. At that I was completely shocked 1: because I was going to get to see a major tennis tournament and not just any one, but Wimbledon, 2: because I only had 10 pounds on me. So in a fit of quick thinking Aaron and Brandon took off with our ATM cards and took out 20 pounds for us all in order to get into the stadium, (Wimbledon at the gates doesn't allow for those who use credit if you are "non-ticket" holder). I saw the sign, you are 300ft away from security and suddenly our friends arrived with 20 quid for us to see some of the most amazing tennis of our lives.
I got through security with them only having to check my laptop. It was quick and I only had two hours to spend there because I was meeting my cousin via the Tube for dinner. There we were, at the ticket counter. I could hardly believe it, (I still can't). I was at Wimbledon, I paid my 14 pounds to the nice ticket attendant who could hardly believe my excitement. As I walked into the grounds I saw the first sign that I was in a place that I would never be in again, the (ORDER OF PLAY) board. We walked over to it and found out that a few notables were playing on the side courts, which is what our passes had access to.
All five of us wandered around and found our player Marat Safin on court 11 while watching the other professionals hit tennis balls on the other side courts. I was in a Dream. I was really at Wimbledon, seeing the grass for the first time, watching the pros hit on it for their Wimbledon dreams to be a reality. I was much to fortunate to be in this position, and I only had an hour and a half in front of the greatness of this sport that I played.
So I said goodbye to my group and wished them the best at getting to Heathrow before the last train on the Tube. I walked to court #2 where David Ferrer was playing a match against an unknown German opponent. I stood in line waiting for the guard to let me into the standing only section. And with a wink and a laugh that I was a bloody Yank waiting in line at Wimbledon he let me through. I watched the match for over an hour, and was able to see all of the other matches being played on all of the side courts around me. It was amazing, and yet I was in shock. I talked tennis with some of the local Brits, especially to one woman who turned out to be a former #1 player for the University of West Virginia. I learned how grass was different from hard-court and saw with my own eyes as the players tried to gouge for offensive advantages with dropshots, volleys and serves. It was amazing, and nothing I write here can really explain the feelings that I had while watching it.
However, it was time to go, and after numerous pictures of Wimbledon and talking to some Aussies I walked out of the gate onto the street to catch the Tube to see my cousin for dinner. I ran, to the Tube in between all of those who had just headed out from the final Centre Court match of the evening. After successfully getting into Southfields station, I crammed myself into a small subway car and thought about what I had just experienced. It hadn't sunk in, and to be honest, while watching the matches afterwards, it still hasn't sunk in that I was at that facility days ago.
I got off at the Gruener Road stop that was to be Michael and my meeting point for our dinner. I saw him and we got back onto the Tube to get to a more "pub" friendly part of town. Dinner was great, I had my last pints in England with a relative in the heart of London at a pub. Great times, good food, and a good experience. I was really happy that I got to meet up with a relative who was experiencing some of the same things I was in England. After viewing where Michael worked and getting to the tube stop at St. James it was time for me to make one of my last journeys alone.
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