Wimbledon: England at its best – and just what we need to follow Eastbourne’s delights
Now then, readers, you are among friends, and you are allowed to come clean. Are you suffering from Darkened Room Syndrome? Are the curtains pulled over, the mobile on silent? And we will not even mention the liquid refreshment chilling in the fridge.
The World Cup is moving to its showdown shoot-outs. There is some very decent Test cricket, T20s, men's and women's. If you're into motorsport, Silverstone has just whizzed past. And – most glorious of all in an English summer – Wimbledon 2026 has been absolutely gripping.
We in Eastbourne have special reason to love our tennis: it is on show here every June, bringing Eastbourne into all those darkened living rooms - but much better still, welcoming residents and visitors alike through the gates of the Devonshire Park. It's fair to say that this nation is tennis-obsessed for two weeks every year- but it’s three weeks if you live in sunny Sussex.
How do the two tournaments compare? Is it even fair to draw comparisons - like weighing up the merits of a family picnic against a five-course dinner. We sports reporters have the real privilege of feasting on both - and on Tuesday of this week I took a day return to SW19.
Talk about total immersion: the packed Underground train, the sweltering mile-long walk from the tube to the All-England Club, and then the tide of humanity inside the grounds. Every nationality, every choice of wardrobe from high fashion to shorts-and-t-shirt.
The tourists and first-timers, looking just a little lost, or possibly just over-awed. And the deep-dyed experts who can tell you whether Paolini is a champion in waiting and whether young Fonseca will one day claim titles that belonged to Sinner and Djokovic.
Ah, Djokovic. I struck lucky on Tuesday. We reporters may not earn a King's ransom, but we are well treated - an air conditioned media centre on that sweltering day was beyond price - and we get up close in interviews and press conferences with the very greatest players.
That GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) title may be much debated - and it's truthfully misleading, because the accolade cannot be permanent, even for the high achievers like Nadal and Federer. Which great sports player actually declared "My titles are only borrowed - I simply hold them and pass them on to the next champion"?
But goodness, Novak Djokovic's claim to greatness was simply enhanced in the five hours of Tuesday evening. And I was there....
In fact my tennis day had already enjoyed a perfect start. Also on Centre Court, the schedule began with a thrilling Women's Singles that pitched Jess Pegula against Coco Gauff. Still only 22, Coco is an engaging young lady with real character, real opinions and a hint of break-the-mould.
I recall covering her first ever Eastbourne match, aged only 17, on Court 2 where the lovely stweards allow reporters to grab a fold-up seat right behind the umpire's chair. Centre Court is awesome, but just a little less informal.
It isn't just those free refreshments. We reporters have, frankly, the best seats in the house after the Royal Box. And we have the slightly better deal because, while the VIPs swelter, the media seats are nicely in the shade.
Centre Court, on occasions like this, is magnificent: the court itself, a mix of green and dusty brown, almost dwarfed by the huge oval structure, like some vast alien spaceship landed in south-west London.
Djokovic is ageless and majestic with incredible stamina and almost flawless skills. His delightful family watching, with most in the packed arena roaring him on. And across the net, you had to feel sympathy for youthful opponent Felix Auger-Aliassime - not tht he needed it.
The young Canadian matched Novak shot for sizzling shot, game for gripping game. And a match which had begun at 5pm was still in the balance at 10.50pm, minutes before the official curfew was due.
We spectators, even with enough intakes of fluid, felt emotionally just as drained. The TV screen is next-best-option - and the BBC coverage is marvellous, but those spectators will have flooded out into the Wimbledon night with unforgettable memories.
A fair few Eastbournians were at the All-England in person: I bumped into some. The rest of you really must get yourselves in next year's ballot. It actually doesn't have to be the high-priced show courts: in the first week of Wimbledon, all the outside courts are brimming with action and talent.
And every year too, thousands buy themselves a ground pass after work - just a tenner, I believe - and join the unique atmosphere in front of the Big Screen on the Hill.
This is Wimbledon. This is England at its best.