Pressure weighs heavy on Brits at Wimbledon

How easy we have it in Ireland. On Tuesday night, the British number one female player Anne Keothavong was asked the following question by the Daily Mirror.

“This is not an accusation, but do you feel as though you’ve let a few people down today?” The sub text was that a few meant 60 million.

The player became emotional, began to cry and had to leave the media conference.

When she returned that question was followed up by another.

“The Brits are going out today. It’s shaping up to be a pretty dark day for British tennis at Wimbledon. Do you feel a sort of collective responsibility?”

Keothavong, ranked 51 in the world, had lost to an opponent about 30 places lower than her in the WTA rankings. All of the British players departed Wimbledon after day two with the exception of Andy Murray and Elena Baltacha.

It is no less than the media here agree - and that’s a one off in itself - that the players have contributed to a British tennis disaster. Engulfed in a tsunami of grief, what the papers are asking today is how, with approximately £25 million surplus from the 2008 championships (Wimbledon’s less grubby way of saying profit), which is pumped back into the game in Britain, can this happen.

The system they say is dysfunctional, that two out of 11 players getting to the second round is almost a perverse failure and as bad as it can possibly be. Had Murray been the only winner, it would have been the country’s worst performance here in the Open era (since 1968).

The London Independent shot out the figure of £75, 830, the amount of money Alex Bogdanovic has earned by featuring in eight glorious first round defeats. That’s more than what Ireland’s top three players combined have earned in their entire careers. Boggo, as he is called, now has ignominious honour of joining Neville Deed’s as the most unsuccessful Brit. (Incidentally, Ireland's Joe Hackett is out on his own with no wins from nine attempts).

But in understanding this, it is important to understand what Wimbledon is, what the Centre Court means, its institutional position in Britain.

Those long shadows in the evening when the BBC deliberately puts on British players to catch increased early evening television traffic; raucous fans, who have queued for hours and, boozed-up, slip into the show courts with their flags and high spirits; the burning desire to do well and to validate the money spent; to live up to your wild card entry and to face down some Bulgarian in the gloaming as Britain tunes in to stoically accept more national failure. It’s daunting stuff.

Professional athletes may be universally greedy but they understand the nature of pay back.

To the British, Wimbledon and particularly Centre Court is Wembley Stadium; it is Croke Park; it is Augusta National and it is Lords. For the players, especially the weaker ones of the group, it is also their Everest and the first round is the Hillary Step. Many don’t get past it.

Ireland has no players in the singles draw but hopes to have two players, Sam Barry and James Morrisey in the junior event if they can qualify. They will feel pressure and expectation too. But it is incomparable to the shadow that Centre Court casts over British players. Keothavong’s tears showed that.