The summer of sport continues, but the time for all things football is over.
As most of us expected, our boys bowed out at the first stage, returning to the UK quicker than you can say ‘Jules Rimet’.
Elsewhere, the South American teams are chewing up the competition (some of them quite literally – someone must buy Luis Suarez a muzzle) and, from this spectator’s view at least, it’s all getting a bit predictable.
Time for a change. Time for a sport with a bit more finesse, a bit more class. Time for tennis. Yes, in our house at least, the World Cup made way for Wimbledon this week.
Goodbye to the beers and crisps, make room for Pimms and strawberries. That’s more like it.
As part of this year’s on going birthday celebrations (usually it is a birthday week, this time I’ve gone all out with a fortnight and am loving it so far) yours truly was treated to a day at SW19, on court number one no less.
Five rows from the front, we were in the thick of the action – close enough to see the sweat pouring off Federer’s opponents forehead, while the great man himself gave a master class in how to see off a match with minimal effort.
Close enough to see the anguish on British hopeful Samantha Murray’s face, as Maria Sharapova thrashed her in similar style.
And close enough to see those tennis whites in all their glory.
I read somewhere this week that Wimbledon whites are ‘more than a colour – they’re an ideal’. And I completely agree. White isn’t only bright, clean and as aesthetically pleasing as a Federer back hand, it’s the colour of the summer.
With it’s reflecting qualities it screams light, warmth and sunshine. What this time of year is all about. So I for one am all for the enforcement of the ‘almost entirely white’ dress code that is enforced at Wimbledon.
This year, it’s stricter than ever, with players allowed only a one centimetre trim on the edge of their garments. That includes undergarments and, and I quote, ‘items that become visible during play due to perspiration.’
Strict? Perhaps. But fair? Most definitely. It wouldn’t be Wimbledon any other way. So while one half of the world continues to bask in carnival colours, I hope that England continues to go the white-way.
On the tennis court at least.