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Wimbledon 2000
Wimbledon 2000 was the place where Magüi Mania was born. It was
just by chance. Really.
We had all agreed to meet to see Arantxa live. But we love tennis,
so we were not going to hang around all day just waiting for Arantxa!
So we watched many, many matches. But the best of them all was,
without a doubt, the Magüi vs. Pierce match. We were cheering for
Magüi (one of our other fav) loudly. So loudly in fact, that
we even received a name from the tv commentators "Serna-Mania". But
Mel thought that Magüi Mania sounded so much better, and we became
Magüi Mania. Cheering for Arantxa and Magüi during the rest of the
tournament.
There will be many reports in this site (I hope), but Wimbledon
2000 will always hold a dear place in our hearts. Cause that's where
we all met!
Wimbledon 2000: Reports
I am sure you are dying to know everything that happened in those
wonderful days at Wimbledon! Here you can read the report of what
it was all about from different points of view!
Beer, Guitars and Public Toilets: Our Wimbledon Story.
by Mel
Probably the best thing about Wimbledon this year was the people.
Yes Paula the South African Security Guard who shared our ‘breakfast’
(a term I use loosely since Stacey was cooking) of a morning; and yes
the cool Spanish Securicor girl Elena who offered us entertainment in
the queue; and yes, of course Magüi who gave us towels and had her
picture taken with us; and yes Arantxa and her entourage who were
charming as ever; and yes Patricia Tarabini who offered us tickets
through the open window of her Courtesy Car; and yes Magüi’s Mum who,
we presume, thought she was in a Courtesy Car when in fact she was
sharing a cab with us! But really I mean US! Wimbledon would
have been nothing if it weren’t for Beatriz, Caz, Kat, Paula and
Stacey (-and hopefully I helped a bit!).
Every night the same routine: Leave the grounds, pick up our
luggage. Three of us join the queue and three of us go back to Caz’s
for a shower, to pick up some fresh clothes and to bring supplies to
get us through the night and the next day. When the latter task was
left up to Stacey and I it invariably involved disposable barbeques
and alcohol!
On my first night (everybody else's second), we'd been there about ten
minutes when Pam Shriver walked past! "Hey girls! How ya doin? Enjoy your
evening!". So not a bad start to our fortnight!
Next on the agenda was Stacey managing to scare a bunch of eleven guys, most
of whom were from Bible College, half to death! They were there for their
mate's stag night and Stace quickly managed to turn their friendly kick-about
into a violent display of drunken Aussie Rules, also managing to knock
over a few precious drinks in the process!
Later on that same evening (or was it early hours of the morning by this
time?) when the truck full of strawberries arrived Stacey went straight to
work with her Real Estate Agent skills and actually managed to talk her way
into a free sample! That was quite an eventful night!
Every morning was pretty much the same story; Caz, Kat and Beatriz would wake
up well rested after at least a good six hours sleep while Stacey, Paula and
I were rudely awoken by the Honorary Stewards rattling their umbrellas along
the railings. We were lucky if we got two hours sleep a night, as every night
we had our own little jawl as our South African friends would say!
So, we'd shake off our sore heads and move ever nearer to those famous gates!
At some point in the proceedings we would take it in turns to squeeze
ourselves into the, surprisingly sanitary, public toilets with fifty other
desperate women to wash, change our clothes, clean our teeth, of course pay
our long overdue water bill and then for the most important thing of all
the obligatory SPANISH WAR-PAINT!
So, wearing the Spanish colours on our faces and in our hair we would make
our way back to the queue to get ourselves tagged and rounded up. We were
given wristbands reminiscent of those youre forced to wear in hospital-
though the bright colours did make us feel a little better about the
situation. These were to distinguish which court we wished to attend and then
we were sent to what they like to call the "small holding area" which
affectionately became known as "The Cattle Pen". As I said, we were tagged
and rounded up, we were just waiting to be branded and for the Stewards to
start using their umbrellas as Cattle Prods!
This was where the guitar came into play. We'd crack her out and tune her up
and not even the Cattle Herders... I mean Honorary Stewards could stop us! I'd
strum away and the other girls would sing unfortunately, the only songs
that all of us knew were Ironic, One of Us and the theme tune from
Friends (Ill be there for You), so we quickly became a little boring
for those around us... hard to believe I know! Although, it has to be said,
when you only have three songs to choose from, you soon come up with some
interesting alternative lyrics!
"Well be there for you,
Just step up and hit the ball.
Well be there for you,
When you question that line call"
©
becoming an instant hit with Arantxa fans everywhere! And my parents said I'd
never make it as a lyricist and songwriter!
Every night was a variation of the one before, but with numbers slowly
diminishing as our friends left for their homelands one by one we were
having to further rely on good memories for good laughs.
We were sleeping on the streets in the freezing cold surrounded by complete
strangers but never before have I felt so warm,comfortable and at home. I did
not realise that it was possible to feel so close to people you had never
seen before in your life in such a short space of time. (Although the Whisky
and Cokes, South African Brandy and Disposable Barbeques did help with the
warming up and bonding!)
There were so many things that happened that theres no space or time to
mention, like hurling abuse at Martina Hingis not realising that she was
twenty feet away, or Giselle, Arantxa's trainer, coming to try and find us in
the queue to bring us food, those few short days were truly great times.
Guys, I love you and miss you all and I cant wait to see you all again next
year for more beer, guitars and public toilets so that we can write another
Wimbledon Story.
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Wimbledon 2000: From the Kat's Eyes
by Kat
Flying straight from my Burnet family reunion to Wimbledon proved to be
a transition from being with family I'd known all my life to a 'family'
I was meeting for the first time. But oddly enough, I felt just as
close with both. There's just something about freezing our asses off
sleeping on the streets for five nights together that will form a tight
bond among a group.
There were the countless 'bloody marvelous's and singings of 'Heart and
Soul' (Lord, please forgive me for Caz and I ever playing that on the
piano), Mel's lovely guitar playing in the queue to pass the time, the
all important survival bag distress signal. Stacey's painted hair and
face and tainted Coke, meeting charming people like Paula and Elena, and
oh yeah, there was some tennis too. Following are just a handful of the
memorable moments...
Monday: Following my fainting episode, seeing eventual champion Venus,
watching ten seats to the left of Richard still don't know how she stays
in that dress. And eventually Stacey and I's first look at Centre Court
as we resourcefully got tickets from people leaving in order to see
Conchita.
Tuesday: My first glimpse at Arantxa and my first first-hand experience
at her ever so close, nail biting wins (she's gonna give me an ulcer one
of these days). My frantic effort to get Caz's and my book from my
backpack and chasing after her despite four security men blocking my
ultimately successful attempt. A few words with Arantxa and a kiss on
either cheek being my reward. Then seeing Magui's first round win,
being (and I do mean literally) the only people at the court cheering
for her, Arantxa sitting in the first row encouraging her fellow
Spaniard. Autographs and pictures at the practice courts to follow.
Later at Caz's house, a frantic attempt to gather motivational articles
for Arantxa, at the request of Giselle.
Wednesday: Arantxa and Amelie playing dubs (after most of us slept
through some if not all of the Huber match), painfully against Magui,
leaving Caz unsure of who to cheer for (good reason and Arantxa
eventually won out). Beatriz coming mid-match to announce with disgust
'Conchita fucking lost'. Magui's ever genuine smile as we cheered for
her after her loss. Amelie's embarrassed look to Arantxa as we 'bowed
down' to her after their win.
Thursday: Arantxa's comfortable win over Grande, following an
entertaining Guga/Bowers match. An interview with a reporter, amazed at
our story, and joined (albeit very briefly) by Arantxa herself. A
charming practice session where Arantxa and Emilio both took aim at each
other's head and Emilio looked as tasty as ever in Arantxa's hair clips
and Stacey's Spanish glasses; a picture with Arantxa and autograph
afterwards. Then Stacey catching Dokic's dad's fit on tape. And
perhaps most notably (bowing down ordered to commence), Magui's win over
Pierce, IMO the upset of the entire tournament - Pierce's look of disgust
all too obviously sent in our direction, Magui's expression of triumph
at the end, and as we later discovered, Magui Mania (formerly Serna
Mania) was born. Hell, we even made it on TV here in the US which is a
major acomplishment.
Friday: Following an all too comfortable sleep in a bed, seeing Arantxa
practice (though made very difficult by the fact Henman was on the
adjacent court). Then Arantxa meeting Magui as she left the courts,
giving her a congratulatory hug accompanied by one of the biggest grins.
Paula nearly strangling a poor girl with the camera cord while trying to
take a picture for her from atop her perch on the bench arm rest.
Watching Martin blow the match against Agassi on the big screen. My
temporary brain freeze going to the wrong luggage storage place, making
for an admittedly irritating evening for all.
Saturday: Watching a Rosset/Haas five set match I thought would never
end. Then finally seeing Arantxa take court only to play like shit for
the first set and a half. Was almost made worth it to get to see her
courageously fight back, getting red hands from clapping so hard and a
sore jaw from clinching my teeth. The relieved/joyous look on her face
in her moment of victory before going to hug her mom. The sweaty wrist
band she gave me that managed to soak everything else in my pants
pocket. Sitting through the Fusai/Tauziat match, with Caz nobly
cheering for Frazier/what's her name so it would end sooner, only for
the idiot's to change the court Arantxa and Amelie were playing doubles
on without so much as a courteous announcement. Racing to court 9 to
catch a set and a half of action before play was called to a halt due to
darkness. The idiot vendors closing, refusing to take our money before
we'd had a chance to spend it.
Sunday: Sad goodbyes and my long plane ride home (let the weeklong
jetlag begin).
In short, it was an incredibly fabulous week, and one I'll never
forget. I'll always be able to look back on it with a grin on my face
and a warmth in my heart. I'm forever grateful to everyone who was
there to share it with me, thereby making it possible and all the more
memorable.
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