Megan Gailey is one of our favorite stand ups. She’s also more knowledgeable than everyone on the BYT staff about sports so we’re asking her about sports. Today’s column answers the question, why Wimbledon?
Wimbledon is my everything. I think I had friends in high school but when I look back on the amount of free time I had, to wake up at 7 a.m. everyday to watch, maybe I didn’t.
I’ve loved tennis my whole life. I started playing at 5. And to this day when people ask me if I played a sport growing up, when I tell them, they usually respond with, “Yeah, you look like you played tennis”. Tennis is synonymous with wealth and being white and loving little sandwiches. I am white and I like sandwiches but I knew a girl that had a whole separate closet just for her tennis clothes. I also knew a girl whose mom would park her Range Rover next to courts she was playing on just so she could yell at her. So, a wide range of fun.
I’ve been to the U.S. Open and French Open and both of those have been magical experiences but nothing is Wimbledon. I don’t actually know because I’ve never been. But I don’t think I’m ready. I want to be rich and tan and have amazing arms and look good in white pants. And I’m just not there yet. I sat next to a 80-year-old on a flight and she was from Wimbledon. It’s a real town. She’d also never been to the tournament. You never want your big moment to come too soon.
The stars of this year’s Wimbledon are very familiar faces. Serena Williams beat her sister en route to a semifinal against the tall, blonde, camera-spokeswoman and former champion Maria Sharapova. Sharapova beat an American named Coco in her quarterfinal. People in this sport are named Coco. I love her. Sharapova seems mean. I have zero evidence to back that up but I’ve never seen her smile and I feel like she’s rude to waitstaff. I hope Serena wins the whole thing and goes on to win the Serena slam and the real Grand Slam (all 4 majors in the same year). Do not ask what the Serena slam is, I have no idea but people like to say it.
The men’s side includes all of my angels. If I had to play FMK with Federer, Djokovic and Murray, I’d just kill myself so they could all live. I’m glad Nadal isn’t there. My beloved Nana Bobo referred to him as her “Dear Rafa” but I’ve disliked him ever since his man capris. Murray is the tournament and country hero because he became the first British man to win anything in 1,000 years. He also went to preschool where there was a shooting rampage and he’s Scottish, which is confusing. Djokovic is funny, despite being from Serbia. And Federer is tennis royalty. He is an all-around champion, father, human and has a pretty regular looking wife he met while they both were Olympians. I imagine I’m his wife a lot.
Wimbledon is more than just tennis and the smash-hit movie I’ve seen two and a half times. It’s also the traditions: strawberries and cream, white clothes and the Royal boxes. I also live for every time a Mediterranean looking coach yells and does a triumphant fist shake at their player. Everyone is so good looking and no one is sweating.
In third grade we had to write and illustrate a book about our biggest dream. I wrote mine about winning Wimbledon, clearly a little far fetched. But then I drew myself as having really big boobs and blonde hair and that was the real window into what my dreams looked like. So I’ll go with this hair and these boobs and I won’t win but being there will be more than enough.