A bit of fun...

... in my admittedly scant spare time I have been working on a few things, and I thought I would post a couple of them on here.

I have mentioned in a previous post the anonymity of people photographed during the tournament. The most photographed are the players, followed probably by the court officials. The players, well, we know their names, but the same can't be said of the officials, or the people who come to watch the games. So, for fun, I have anonymized a few photos to see how they look. I think they look sort of cool - no doubt someone has done something similar before, and probably better than I have here. These are just quick edits, grand slammed out during an idle five or ten minutes over the last week or so.








- Guess who...
- If you can guess this one then you are Derren Brown. I am not DB, so I have absolutely no idea.
- Who is this?
- This is the same person, serving.






- This is the same person as in the first photo in the set. She is one of the best players ever to have trodden grass here at Wimbledon.
- Difficult light, but I think it still works. Sort of.








- A final one that I knocked up ten minutes ago.

I like the way that even without the face and limbs, a player is still somehow recognisable. It is almost as if your brain fills in the missing bits and you can still see the bits that have been removed (though that could also be down to the speedy edits). Perhaps the brain is also helped by the shadows that I kept in the mix.

Already we have a tour in the office, passing the time whilst the rain falls in a drizzly curtain onto the covered courts. I am desperately hoping that the matches will get played today. I am ready to go home. Resume my normal life. Selfishly, I don't want the tournament to roll over to tomorrow. Forgive me.

Final Finals

... we have made it to the last day. This post was supposed to be done last night, but it took longer than I thought to prepare some photos. Hohum.

This morning in SW19 there are clouds scudding for their lives, smearing across the sky like cotton wool speedily swiped across a big blue cheek. The sun is shining, but I fear that the forecast is for rain until about 3pm. Or so the BBC said. Like hundreds, nay thousands of others, I am praying that they are wrong.

I want the shown down between Cheddara (our new name for the cow-collecting and Nadal to go ahead today. I am ambivalent about the outcome, may the best man win. Whilst it would be a bit of a shame for Borg's record to be beaten, it would be nice to see a new king of Centre Court crowned. Time will tell.

Tick follows tock follows tick follows tock, the countdown to the end is inexorable, just like the deadline for the start. In the run up to the event we know there is no room for (roots) maneuver, no chance of delaying the off. And now as we approach the curtain call on this most magnificent of tennis events relief starts to spread from the toes upwards. The knowledge that if all goes well then today is the last time this year that we will have to brave lunch or dinner in the canteen. The last time we will have to prepare a significant volume of photos. The last DVD for the players will be written, the last tours will wend their questioning way through the bunker. It's the last time we will moderate the fan comments, monitor the scoring feeds, be vigilant for signs of network breach. Today, the last strawberries will be eaten, the last glass of Pimms drained, the salady bits sticking to the side of the glass job done, the last and most prestigious court of all will fall silent, the last fans will traipse through the wrought iron gates... it is a day of lasts. As long as it doesn't rain.

It is all very well attempting to ruby wax lyrical, but there is work to be done. First, a few photos from a very brief walk around the grounds yesterday.






- Anna and Merry came to visit us during a trip up to celebrate Merry's birthday. Both have been my manager in years past, and it was excellent to see them. They were lucky with the weather, and got to witness the 14 year old Robson win the Girl's Singles. Perhaps there is hope for British tennis yet.
- My walk around the grounds inevitably included a little bit of time on the Broadcast Centre roof where I saw maybe 10 minutes of the Boy's Doubles through a 70-200mm zoom lens. The sun was bright enough to afford both shadows and high shutter speeds, so I took a few shots. This one is of Cheng-Peng Hsieh, a player with an explosive hairstyle to match his serve.
- A ball boy launches a ball down the court to another ball boy.








- M. Basic at that very moment that I mentioned in my first post. Get ready ball, there's a racquet coming through.
- At the other end, T.H. Yang contorts himself to deliver a decisive serve.
- Hseih lets his disappointment show after missing a backhand.
- Nevermind, the hair still looks good. Spiky.






- Hseih serves, the force giving him trumpet cheeks.
- He was all over the court, chasing every ball, pushing for the win. Which he and his partner achieved in the end.
- A ball boy legs it back to his position in the final moments of the game.

Right, I must get the list upstairs to the photographers, and my other camera booked in for a sensor clean. We have just had our photograph taken by Neil Tingle, one of the club photographers. You might have seen some of his photos on the official site - very good they are indeed. Just as he was taking the picture the heavens opened. I think that might be a portent of what is to come.

Back in a bit.