From BN21 to SW19 – and why tennis and its fans need Eastbourne and Wimbledon

Last week, we were gripped by England’s cricketing run chase against India. By this weekend, it will be wall-to-wall Women’s Euros. Even the Hastings World Crazy Golf tournament earned a glimpse of attention.

But right now, it is the thwick-thwock of tennis racquet on tennis ball that is centre stage and Centre Court.

Eastbourne’s own Devonshire Park revelled in the LTA Lexus Open for a full eight days, and now the whole nation is gripped with Wimbledon Fever. Purely in the interests of balance and journalistic research, I hopped on a train this week and headed for SW19. It happened to be the hottest day of the year, but we Brits are always martyrs to our weather!

How do the two tournaments compare? It’s an unequal contest, of course, in scale and scope and sheer numbers. But the rules, the court dimensions and the skills and tactics are no different. From relentless practice to perfect their very first serve, to that last ounce of stamina to clinch a match point three hours later, ordinary players reach extraordinary heights.

The single major difference between BN21 and SW19 is sheer size and scale. Rattling along the District Line from Wimbledon station, you quite suddenly glimpse the public park opposite the All England Club. Literally thousands – a whole grass-roots community of enthusiasts.

While corporate guests are arriving in their Daimlers, the ordinary – dare I say real – tennis fans have spent a night or more under canvas, making new friendships and discussing the prospects. All us Brits are tennis experts for a fortnight!

The mile-long road from the Underground is now in full flood. By the time I reach the entrance gates, I could have bought five bottles of sun-cream, six Panama hats and several slices of pizza. I could also, by the way, have paused to discuss with residents the still very contentious plans for huge expansion of the All England Club. Those tented over-nighters might just be on borrowed time.

But once inside the gates, tennis is everywhere.

First-time visitors can lose their bearings, but smiling smartly uniformed staff are everywhere to help. At the Devonshire Park, everything is in sight, but here, there are 18 competition courts, as well as eateries, shops and a tennis museum. Somewhere to sit? Well, courtside is what you’ve paid for, and on this scorching day you will be praying that your purchased seat has a bit of shade…

It does feel a wee bit more formal than Eastbourne - where, on the Devvy lawns, you’ll quite possibly bump into your next door neighbour, you’ll steer between the school parties and the ball crews trotting to their next gig, and you’ll form improbable, impromptu friendships.

We do look after each other at the Eastbourne tournament: that absent-minded BBC Sussex reporter had left his glasses behind on a picnic table last Saturday, and a kind lady had chased him halfway across the lawns to reunite them! Thank you!

But back to the All England, where I tried to spend half an hour at a time on a range of courts.

Interestingly, each has its own character. Just as some Devonshire Park regulars virtually padlock themselves to their favourite seat on Court Two, or head for the Secret Garden of Court 12, so Wimbledon’s own Court 12 or even the quirky standing-room-only Court 17, have their loyalists.

On the towering Court 18, Alex de Minaur, an old friend of Eastbourne, was in heavy-duty combat to a sound-track of “Aussie Aussie Aussie!” from the Backpacker Army.

A slightly more genteel Court Two audience was enjoying the fine-margin finesse of former champion Iga Swiatek. Cheerily raucous or politely appreciative: but sharing a love of that compelling thwick-thwock: the metronome to the sport’s music.

And at the centre of the AELTC grounds, the two show courts: the awesome oval bowl of Court No 1 echoed to the deafening roars for Jannik Sinner, once and future Grand Slam champion, while the iconic Centre Court, with ivy-clad walls and decades of history, welcomed the Great, the Good and the well-connected!

What Wimbledon offers is that priceless connection from past traditions to new innovations. A huge bank of wi-fi masts stands – not very discreetly – ready to transmit the tennis to the world. And yet here, alone among the Grand Slams, the two iconic titles are the Gentlemen’s Singles and the Ladies’ Singles.

Late afternoon now melts into early evening, and the walkways are suddenly bulging again with a new flood of after-work spectators. The Hill is filling up with happy punters - in for just a fiver, an absolute bargain.

Henman Hill? Murray Mount? 2025 might just have been the Year of Pinnington-Jones Peak! (Your sporting knowledge is in inverse proportion to your ticket price, someone mischievously once said. Not wholly true, but you get the drift.)

The world outside gets on with life. High above, a droning airliner heads for Heathrow – but it will never drown out the umpire’s “Thirty All”! We need Wimbledon, and actually we also need its younger sister, the Devonshire Park, for those perennial qualities. We probably need a new John Betjeman for the 2020s, and a new Miss Joan Hunter-Dunne! Ah, nostalgia isn’t what it used to be….

Wimbledon Fever. There is no known cure, except to cancel other commitments, buy in the bulk strawberries, settle in a darkened room and scan those TV schedules. Normal life resumes in a week or two...