Have you noticed? It is once again Wimbledon season, bringing with it all of the non-stop buzz: the players, the coaches, the media, the clothing and, of course, the hair. Hair seems to be of high interest at Wimbledon. I am especially remembering a significant Wimbledon where hair was just about the only thing being discussed in the run-up.
It was all about Andre Agassi. There was a media frenzy surrounding him - endless discussions about his hair, his tan, his clothing (he was reportedly refusing to wear traditional white on the Wimbledon courts) and his girlfriends. We heard this speculation from the moment we moved to England, until Mr. Agassi's first game day. The cameras snapped, reporters gasped, girls screamed, and the guys mostly yawned. For Andre Agassi appeared in....TRADITIONAL WHITE!
His concession for submitting to this requirement? He wore a loose shirt that showed his belly button upon each swing at the tennis ball. We saw more snaps of that stomach than we cared to! But people could not get enough of it.
I am telling you all of this because in the early 1990's I very nearly got to watch the Men's Wimbledon finals. In Centre Court! How did I accomplish this? And why did I not go? Well here's the story:
As you might know, members of the public can enter a sort of 'lottery' for Wimbledon tickets by simply applying. This was exciting and I figured, Why shouldn't I?? So I sent in the application, and imagine my disbelief when I found that I had not only won a ticket - I had won for the CENTER COURT MEN'S FINALS - the most prestigious tennis match ever!
And (although no one knew this yet) Andre Agassi would be playing. How cool is that?
But, dear Readers, in the end I was not able to go! Are you sad for me? This was due to a U.S. concert date conflict which could not be worked out or changed, no matter how I tried. Some other lucky person sat in my place, that lovely Wimbledon day.
I sat somewhat desolate on the airplane the day of the match, listening as the pilot intermittently announced the score. When finally he said Andre Agassi had won, the plane erupted in cheers. Little did they know that one of their fellow passengers could have been there. Could have sat cheering along with the Queen, the prince, the princess, and a gaggle of other assorted Royals. I felt almost famous.
While recently perusing some photos of Mr. Agassi, I came upon the shocking realization that NONE OF HIS HAIR REMAINS. I imagine it is a lot easier to play tennis without it. But there may not be the same parade of cameras snapping, the screams of girls or the belly button revelations.
I guess we all grow up sometime.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/cb-photography/40660859/
See you along the way!
the SconeLady
photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/cb-photography/40660859/">CB Photography</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/2.0/">cc</a>
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