Last Post

I'd like to echo gypsum's comments in thanking those of you who have taken time to read this blog...we hope you've found it interesting and have enjoyed each post as they have appeared.

IBM has worked with AELTC for 19 years now and the partnership seems to be working well (I'll give them another year before committing to a definite opinion). This successful partnership is down to many things...the technology, the service, the understanding, the co-operation, the meeting-of-minds.

But a lot of it is also down to the individuals within the teams. People like Jay, who has made this blog what it is. How he has found the time and inspiration to take the photos and write the words that he has done - as well as doing his main job at Wimbledon - amazes me.

It amazes me, but it doesn't surprise me.

Doing the very best job he can...going 'the extra mile' to deliver something outstanding...adding his own take on things to make something...well, to put it simply...to make something work. Sound familiar? Characteristics of an IBMer? You decide.

All I know is that Jay deserves a whole bunch o' praise for the work he's done these last few weeks on this blog...so if you've read this blog and enjoyed it, please let him know and be sure to thank him for the effort he's put in.

And I'm first: thanks Jay.

...

... so that's it. Thank you for taking the time to read this blog!

Goodbye for another year, Wimbledon. I love you and hate you in equal measures...

The final few photos...

... a rag tag bunch of snaps that I took on the last afternoon of the tournament.






- An umpire's shoes. Thave seen two weeks of grass and chair, the grubbiness of the soles creeping upwards, coffeeing their cream.
- A ball boy takes of in pursuit of a ball fallen short of its mark.
- Hseih, through the umpire's wheeled wooden throne, stands at the net waiting for a serve during the Boys Doubles Final.







- A bottle of the one of the Official Supplier's water.
- One of the lads in the Boy's Doubles match mentioned above. Despite his valiant efforts he and his partner lost.
- A fascinator!
- Murray Molehill rammo with fans watching the Men's Final on the big screen. Ominous portents of impending doom gather like a grey smudgy blanket, ready to spur the court coverers into action and set the crowd scrabbling for their own flimsy covers.






- A security guard in front of the crowd. There are plenty of them deployed to keep the walkway in front of the big screen clear. The crowd has other ideas and slowly creep foward, their numbers swelled as individuals sit down at the front whilst the guard's are facing the screen.
- "We all could have used this one...". Billowing blue shoulders illustrate the extremely thin protective layer.
- Tried and mostly failed to capture some mad jester hats.






- An older chap leans and peers at the big screen.
- Another attempt at zooming during a longer exposure. No monopod to help me out.
- This man stood up between sets and started chanting for Federer, egging the crowd on (they mostly seemed to be shouting "Nadal!" back), everyone laughing after each more intense one word exhortation for the Swiss one.








- A neck craned at an impossible angle. So far in fact that he couldn't right his head again without using his hands to help.
- A senior security advisor contemplates the same neck-breaking tilt, either ruefully realising the possible outcome, or holding the skin on his neck in what would probably be a pinchingly taut attempt to stop the neck bending too far...
- Ade Adepitan, Paralympic Wheelchair Basketball medallist, watches the tennis on the big screen.

Then I had to go back to the bunker, prepare the photos for the site. We ended up having a Thai meal in the office, transported by Andy & Ricky, and eaten at about midnight. Back to the house, one last cup of tea and a chat, and then the best sleep of the entire time there...

Penultimate post...

... kind of a day later than I wanted it to be. Yesterday, after publishing a few photographs of the winner's dinner (actually of the winners and their trophies and not the food on their plates), taking apart all the kit, clearing out of the bunker, and the rented house, saying goodbye to all the amazing people I work with up at the tournament, I pointed the car south and headed home.

The drive out of London is smashed alive with speed cameras, and I had to concentrate hard to hear the helpful beeping from the satnav warning me of imminent malevolent big brother eyes offering me three points in return for a picture, as I had the stereo up rather loud. System of a Down were in the changer, and 'Chop Suey!' blasted my ears clean of the sounds of Wimbledon, the muted roar of the fans, the thock thump thock of the rallies, the hum of the air conditioning, the constant pattering of fingers on laptop keyboards. I was free. Free, and heading home.

Click whir, and the song has changed, and SOAD were now lamenting heavy on 'Lonely Day'...
"Such a lonely day
And it's mine
The most loneliest day of my life

Such a lonely day
Should be banned
It's a day that I can't stand

The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life..."

Poignantly topical, and I sang along with a lump in my throat. I have 'suffered' this day for the last eleven or twelve years, and it gets no easier (though no worse either). I was off home, where there would be just me, plucked out of a room buzzing with fifteen or so different people, and plonked down in the serene but relative loneliness of a roomful of one. Wimbledon was over, and I was a little bit sad.

Nevermind, the M3 had provided plenty of company for me, as several miles of cars crawled along at an average of about 3 miles an hour. A large oil spill at the junction prior to the one I take for the A303 meant the journey lasted for over three hours. Instead of one hour. So when I finally crested a hill and could see the spire of Salisbury Cathedral welcoming me back all I could think of was sleep. No hope of doing this post yesterday.

Now it is a day after, a limbo, and I have a bit of time to add some final words to this blog. The Men's Final on Sunday was an epic. My words cannot adequately describe the thrilling battle between Nadal and Federer, so I will leave that to the proper writers. I will say though that the photos, all be they grainy, were stunning to see. A champion, and a fallen hero, Centre Court a dark pit illuminated by brief bursts of brilliant light... we will never see such photos again at the tournament, as when the roof on that court is finished next year it will include lighting. So, magical images illustrated the crowning of a new king, and provided a fittingly superb end to a marvellous two weeks of tennis.

I did take some pictures myself on Sunday, and perhaps I will sling a few on the end of this post in a little bit. Indeed, I will, I shall prepare them now... start > photoshop...