Tim Henman has spent years of his life at Wimbledon, as a fan, player, broadcaster and more. He spoke to Toby Keel. Photographs by Simon Stacpoole / Antoine Couvercelle / Jed Jacobsohn / Jon Buckle / Chris Trotman via Rolex and Getty Images.
Even when it’s empty, Centre Court at Wimbledon is one of sport’s most evocative arenas. Is it the ghosts of a century’s worth of players who have graced this turf since it was first laid in 1922? Is it the octagonal shape and instantly recognisable configuration — here, the Royal Box; there, the families’-and-coaches’ viewing platform — which makes this 15,000-seater venue retain its charming, even intimate feel? Or is it the hold-your-breath calm that somehow feels like part and parcel of the place, a knowing, sophisticated quiet that you can feel both on a quiet weekday outside of tournament fortnight, or in those pin-drop moments before you witness a serve at match point in a five-set thriller? The Spanish players have, for years, referred to Centre Court at ‘La Cátedra’ — The Cathedral. It’s an apt descriptor: cool, calm and almost ethereal, this is sporting hallowed ground.
It’s into this space that Tim Henman strolls, all smiles and easy bonhomie, looking for all the world as if he owns the place. And in some senses he almost does: the former British number one, a four-time semi-finalist at The Championships, first came here as a six-year-old, accompanying his mother — a member of the All England Lawn Te.
