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Tuesday, 7 August 2012

Winning at Wimbledon

Federer 
My brother James, me and my little sister Jess going over the top with Team GB merchandise

Being from London gives me a right to be synical about the Olympics. Feeling like a sardine on transport is not what I pay £2.70 for. I was still part of the ‘I-hate-the-Olympics-and-everything-about-it’ crew as I sat down to watch the opening ceremony, up until people played cricket to the tune of Jerusalem, then in marched the Suffragettes, then the rings, the bloody firework rings! I was totally mesmorsied and well in to Team GB and then to top off my inflated patriotism, my childhood hero Mr Bean came on – what a show stealer!

My suburban dwelling Dad, a 7 year 2012 fan, mainly because his geographical placing means he won’t get the Olympic fever side effects, got some tickets to Wimbledon Centre Court. I really got into tennis when I watched the Murray/Federer final and became one of millions of women who a little bit fell in love with the Swiss Champ.


Then I found out I had tickets to his (and Serena Williams’) first Olympic match, what a line up. The sun obviously didn’t want to miss out and came out to play. Two of the volunteers stewards who ‘were just so happy to be part of it’ struck up friendly conversations with me. By the time I sat in my seat, I had totally ditched my cynic side and I found myself clapping with the crowd sporting a pair of <3 Union Jack sunglasses, howling ‘Come on Roger!’ Behaviour, I really hope was not caught on the BBC’s cameras.

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