We shall begin with a little quiz, for which prizes will be awarded (first prize: a slap-up meal in the press canteen at Wimbledon, second prize: two slap-up meals in the press canteen at Wimbledon. Boom-boom). So, to the quiz – when is a story not a story? And the answer? When it involves Anna Kournikova.
The much-photographed one was back at Wimbledon to play in the Ladies’ Invitation doubles, also billed as the Senior Ladies’ event or, as we call it in the press bunker, the “senior moments” event. And trust me, there are some seriously senior moments when the old gals get underway. Herself, by the way, was playing with some Swiss bird.
That Anna K made a mint from her looks, her attitude and her ability to flirt with anything from a line judge to a milk churn is the stuff of legend; that she failed to win one, sole, single trophy is still the stark reality. Yet when she returned to the All England Club, the photographers, news hounds and several thousand other tennis aficionados – oddly, most of them male – were on hand to witness the moment. When the Queen turned up on Thursday, it was only marginally bigger than this.
Now, far be it from me to suggest that the real story here was Martina Hingis (she was that Swiss bird standing beside the Russian diva), but – hush, hush, whisper who dare – I do think the rest of the press pack might just have missed the story.
Martina was back at Wimbledon three years after a positive drugs test in SW19 ended her second career. Martina, the former world No.1 and serial grand slam champion, had flirted during the spring with the idea of a third comeback (and when the Swiss Miss flirts in public, she picks a big target). Martina, clearly, had a tale to tell. But, really, what do I, a weak and feeble woman, know of Anna K’s pulling power? Martina who?
Anna and Whatshername were playing the British pairing of Ann Hobbs and Sam Smith (who, incidentally, prepared with the champion’s breakfast of three sausages, four rashers of bacon and, for effect, a grilled tomato. And Sam is the properly fit one in the Brit duo. Much as she is a friend and good colleague now that she has moved to the press corps, I hate her – the thin swine).
Never had Hobbs and Smith played in front of such a captive audience. The place was heaving and everyone was loving it. There were photographers, piled up in unsavoury layers, at the side of the court; there were hacks packed like sardines into the press box; there were blokes in their thousands sandwiched into Court Two, all of whom had come to admire the topspin forehands and the sliced backhands (natch). And they can do it all over again in a couple of day’s time as Anna and Thingy won in straight sets. Hurrah!
Unusually – nay, uniquely – for a senior moments first round match, a press conference was called afterwards. As the massed ranks of hacks sat huddled over their laptops, the press room Tannoy crackled into life. “Press announcement: Anna Kourniko…” but the disembodied voice was drowned out by the thundering of hooves as the male population of the bunker ran, en masse, to the interview room. Deadlines be damned – Anna was back and she was speaking. Better still, if you trampled on the hacks in front of you, there were still front row seats to be had.
And, boy, did the Blonde One speak.
Now, it has to be remembered that this hormone-fest happened on the same day that Venus had lost (and to Tsvetana Pironkova, no less) and Serena had won. Yeah, OK, but who cares? Anna is in the interview room.
Still, to be fair to both Serena and the makers of industrial grade corsetry, Serena’s remarkable frontage usually gets more than ample coverage in the British press at this time of year (and if it ain’t across seven columns, it won’t fit). But not when Anna is in town.
Of the 2,780 words uttered in the press conference – and that includes the journalists’ questions and the moderator’s attempts to wrap it up, 1,545 were spoken by Kournikova. Had the moderator not intervened, she would be speaking still. Hingis – remember her? – could barely get a word in edgeways.
Watch this space. The media lust object that is Anna Kournikova and Hingy-Thingy-Whoever-she-is are both rather fond of the limelight. And if AK doesn’t give The Other One a decent turn behind the microphone in their pressers, none of us can see this partnership lasting the week.
Better still, they are both supposed to playing World Team Tennis this summer, although, thankfully, not for the same team. Stand by for sparks if they meet in the press spotlight should the New York Buzz (that’s Hingis’s outfit) meet the St. Louis Aces.
And a note to put in your diaries: the New York Buzz will have Sarah Borwell among their number this summer. Who she? She a Brit, she a fine doubles player and she also one of the funniest, sassiest and brightest women you could hope to meet on the women’s tour. She’s a cracking bird, is Sarah.
Sarah reacted to the return to Wimbledon of the Golden Girls by making a beeline for Martina (Sarah, being a female Brit, was one of the few locals to remember the former champion’s name) and introduced herself as a soon-to-be colleague. Sources close to the encounter reveal that old Thingamajig was utterly charming. This partnership, then, could go the distance. Sarah: 1; The Moscow Minx: 0. The New York Buzz are up on the deal already. The rest of the summer could be quite exciting.
Oh, and as an afterthought, the rest of Wimbledon went on in it’s own sweet way. Serena won, Venus didn’t. Kim got clumped and Petra Kvitova beat Kaia Kanepi. But Anna K spoke, so that’s all that mattered.
Topics: Alix, Anna K, Anna Kournikova, Boom Boom, Canteen, Drugs Test, England Club, Feeble Woman, Grand Slam Champion, Line Judge, Martina Hingis, News Hounds, Old Gals, Pulling Power, Sam Smith, Senior Moments, Stark Reality, Swiss Miss, Target, Whatshername