Watching Wimbledon always reminds me of two specific times in my life.
The first time must have been when I was about 8 years old. I remember it being roasting hot and tearing around the garden with my little sister, wanting homemade orange squash ice lollies from the freezer. My mother, half watching the tennis whilst doing mum like things, not sure what though. My father, in the shed at the top of the garden doing dad like things. Sounds like an idyllic childhood summer. And I suppose it was.
I just remember thinking... why on earth would anyone want to watch tennis, it's so boring. Those thoughts were closely followed by... When is Cities of Gold and Thundercats on?
The second time was when I was 16 years old. I had just finished sitting my GCSE exams. I spent every day that summer with my best friend at the time, Jenny. We sat and watched tennis all day, every day for two weeks. We then attempted to play it ourselves. Hours of amusement to onlookers I am sure!
Another Wimbledon over. Djokovic the champion for 2011. I wonder where I will be this time next year? Here's hoping I will be watching Nadal pick his underwear out from his backside on Centre Court!