It’s called the Oscars of its sport. If tennis were American football, it would be the Super Bowl. If soccer, the World Cup. It’s the Masters of golf and the NBA Finals of basketball.
One British man once quipped, “Tennis isn’t popular in England. Wimbledon is.”
Why is this 14-day grass-court ritual so celebrated? Because it’s the oldest. Wimbledon began in 1877 with just 22 players and 200 spectators. By 1884, they introduced the Ladies’ Singles and Gentlemen’s Doubles. Not “men” and “women.” Always “Ladies” and “Gentlemen.” That’s Wimbledon. That’s tradition.
Above the entrance to Centre Court is one of my favorite lines — by Kipling: “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster / And treat those two impostors just the same.”
WIMBLEDON VISIT. In November 2023, on our daughter Jana’s birthday — and during a family vacation to London — we made sure to visit the mecca of tennis. It wasn’t during The Championships in July. There were no matches, no players in white. But for us, it was just as magical.
A side note: Jana is the Czech equivalent of John. But more meaningfully for us, it’s also the name of the Wimbledon champion the year our daughter was born. The 1998 winner? Jana Novotná.
From Central London, we took the subway, then a bus, and arrived in SW19. First stop: the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Museum — the largest tennis museum in the world. I’ve been to many museums, but this one ranks among the best. Gleaming trophies stood behind glass. Wooden racquets of past champions adorned the halls. Even their all-white outfits were on display.
Next, we joined a guided tour. We walked past the locker rooms. Sat on the interview chairs. Outside, we posed beside the Order of Play board — “Carlos Alcaraz” etched as the 2023 champion. Then we traced the long list of winners: Borg. Serena. Martina. Roger. And my personal favorite: the seven-time champ, Pete Sampras.
The most unforgettable stop? Centre Court. The cathedral of tennis. We weren’t allowed to step on the grass — of course not. This was hallowed turf. But just being there, seated in the green-covered stands, was enough.
Wimbledon, we realized, is tennis at its finest. It’s royal boxes and quiet crowds. It’s all-white tradition. No logos screaming from the walls. No noise — except for the crisp sound of ball on strings and applause on grass.
That half-day in Wimbledon? Unforgettable.
WIMBLEDON 2026. This year, for us Filipinos, the biggest story came in the Ladies’ First Round. Alex Eala stepped onto Centre Court. Yes — Centre Court.
She won the opening set and pushed the defending champion to a third set. Though she fell short, she proved one thing: she belongs. At just 20, and ranked No. 56, her game is world-class — and still climbing.
Because that’s Wimbledon. It’s not just about who lifts the trophy — but about the legacy etched in every blade of grass.
And for Alex Eala, this isn’t the end. It’s only the beginning. The next time she steps on Centre Court, she won’t just be challenging champions — she’ll be chasing her own.