"They act as if they've got the biggest tournament in the world. They do. This is the One." Pete Sampras got it spot on. For millions, life comes to a standstill during the two weeks of tennis action at Wimbledon. As this year's Championships end next Sunday, Fiona Fernandez urges you to make time for a trip to SW12 while in London, to take a guided tour of the world's most hallowed grass courts
"They act as if they've got the biggest tournament in the world. They do. This is the One." Pete Sampras got it spot on. For millions, life comes to a standstill during the two weeks of tennis action at Wimbledon. As this year's Championships end next Sunday, Fiona Fernandez urges you to make time for a trip to SW12 while in London, to take a guided tour of the world's most hallowed grass courts
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And this, ladies and gentlemen, is Centre Court," our strict, schoolmarmish, 50-something guide announced in her thick British accent, swelling with pride like a peacock (or peahen, in this context). We had reached the end of our guided tour around the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club (AELTC) at Wimbledon. In a flash, mental snapshots from over two decades of watching Wimbledon popped in my head ufffd of bunking tuitions to watch grainy, black-and-white pre-recorded telecasts in the Doordarshan era, of being introduced to Wimbledon's green-hued aura with the arrival of the colour TV, of shadow-playing Steffi Graf's crackling forehands (and mirror-talking the speech on winning The Championship) and of living in the moment when satellite television brought Sampras and Co. into our homes. 
The green mile
A couple of hours earlier, my pilgrimage had begun as I hopped off the tube at Wimbledon station. Guidebook in tow, I chose to walk the nearly two-kilometre stretch, to soak in every bit of the charm that surrounds SW12 (for the uninitiated ufffd it is the suburb code for the town of Wimbledon) thanks to hundreds of hours of TV coverage that would tease the viewer sitting in faraway Mumbai, with glimpses of spires, wooded pathways and neatly manicured gardens and country homes. After 20 minutes of brisk walking over tree-aligned, cobblestone sidewalks, the boundary wall of AELTC came into view. It was my "Land Ahoy" moment. I quickened my pace and in this undiluted excitement to reach my Everest, nearly entered the wrong gate (be forewarned, most look alike) before a day-labourer directed me towards Gate 5 ufffd the tour's starting point. Great Britain's champion Grand Slam winner Fred Perry's giant-sized statue at the entrance played perfect teaser to what was to roll out, shortly.
"Are we ready to tee off, then?" our towering tour guide introduced herself, impeccable credentials et al, as she did a head count of the motley bunch, which was dominated by Australians, Japanese, Spanish and South Africans. "Wait for us!" a loud shriek from 100 metres away, interrupted the guide just as she readied to dole out a battery of instructions. A young, garishly clad Indian couple and their toddler (in a pram) were rushing towards the group. As hard as she tried, our tour guide couldn't morph her jaw-dropped look. The Aussies chuckled under their breath and the Japanese duo found a Kodak moment (a bit premature, we thought). "No cameras with flashes in my face ufffd it becomes difficult to speak, and no stepping on the grass... please."
Tour De Wimbledon
Court 1 was our first big wow moment. "With a spectator capacity of 11,429, it replaces the now-demolished former No. 1 Court, which had stood at the west side of Centre Court," our guide rattled away. "Any questions so far...?"
Despite the steely demeanour, our guide warmed up to the group with her timely nuggets of the bigger picture, as we proceeded along the stretch ufffd the early days, the evolution of this suburb, the champions that make it truly one-of-a-kind. While the tour doesn't cover all 19 courts, it smartly winds its way through the most iconic portions inside AELTC.
We reached the Picnic Terraces, originally called the Aorangi Terrace. This is the most favoured spot for spectators (particularly the ticketless folk) to watch live action on the big screen and bite into a slice of leisurely courtside action. Henman Hill, now rechristened as Murray Mound (to salute homeboy Andy Murray), is another draw along the trail. We made our way through truly spectacular settings ufffd the crisp August breeze played able aide through what was turning into a workout. Now, there was a toss-up for our on-tour Alec Smarts ufffd the swaggering Aussies or the Nadal-crazy Spanish entourage. South Asians were cliqued as bumbling bumpkin folk, I figured ufffd until a pertinent query from yours truly effected a marginal shift in continental preferences.
Shades of green and purple dotted the picture-postcard landscape even as views of the town from higher levels within added to this memorable trip. We were shown the otherwise inconsequential Court 18 ufffd venue of the longest match in tennis history (June 2010), where Nicolas Mahut beat John Isner (6-4, 3-6, 6-7 (7), 7-6 (3), 70-68) in a battle that lasted 11 hours and 5 minutes. Phew!
We didn't mind preening, as we posed for the moment-of-glory feel seated at the Press Interview Room, as each of us took turns play-acting a Q and A session. The group moved towards the players' entry section (it was easy to visualise Federer or Agassi walk past, after signing the register), the winners' display and snatched a glimpse of the area where the fabled Graveyard Court stood.
"Keep off the grass!" ufffd toddler (pram was dismantled) had rolled over on the grass. Gulp. The guide's terse reprimand to the erring parents rose above the lawnmower's daily drill in the background. Soon the bunch was taken to the final stop ufffd Centre Court. The Royal Box, the trademark green box chairs, the Players Section, the collapsible sunroof ufffd it was all there, warranting a short flashback of the countless wins amid applause. A few moments were needed to soak in the moment and we were off.u00a0u00a0
The Wimbledon museum
The last leg is an audio tour of the Museum. It's a terrific window to the evolution of tennis in general and Wimbledon's emergence as the world's premier Grand Slam event. Tennis apparel, doll-house versions of play from yesteryears, tennis racquets, technology and an ode to the humble lawn mower demand over a couple of hours at the museum. And while you're at it, a visit to the gift shop. Start saving for the memorabilia and for a ticket to savour the real deal. Head there in June 2012.
At: Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Museum, All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club, Church Road, Wimbledon, London SW19 5AE;
Call: +44 (0) 20 8946 6131.u00a0
Log on tou00a0www.aletc.wimbledon.com
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