Well remember Wimbledon. Went there every year, sat in prime position
on the centre court and saw the greats, from Becker to McEnroe, Connors
and LeConte and they were all thrilling.
Cliff Richard singing in
the rain and ducks on the covers. Sitting around waiting for the action
to start, six strawberries for a fiver and big buckets of sweeties.
Saw
Fergie flirting and Diana dazzling.
Ann White in her skintight
catsuit. Stuffy officials in a frenzy. Martina unmoved, saying,"Let her
tennis do the talking." It did. Out she bounced, but the lads loved it.
Boris wore see-through shorts and the girls got lucky. The tennis was
brilliant, supreme skill, effort and stamina, truly awe-inspiring. The
best of the best. Patient fans waited all day, for the chance of a
ticket as somone left early. Not many did.
It was fun and it was free for me. Just two weeks a year in the life of a Sun reporter. Happy days.
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