“It seems appropriate to celebrate the longest match in tennis history with the shortest poem form,” wrote Harvey on his blog. He wrote of the epic match, between American John Isner and Frenchman Nicolas Mahut:
high performance play
all day yet still no climax
it’s tantric tennis
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Harvey dedicated this poem to Andy Murray, “the local hero,” who played his first game at Wimbledon on June 22.
if ever he's brattish
or brutish or skittish
he's Scottish
but if he looks fittish
and his form is hottish
he's British
First just to be there - step out on that grass
play with panache and move with feline grace,
to make'em gasp, inspire the oohs and aahs.
And now the camera zooms in on your face,
savours the grit and gleam behind your eyes.
You leap and land on shock-absorbing thighs -
you don't just grind a win: you win with style.
Yes! Power and precision meet guts, grace and guile.
As game follows tie-break, set follows game
to Championship point - to crown the dream
the crowd on Centre Court all chant your name.
So many dreamers, with a common theme:
fame, prizes, praise, etcetera etcetera…
(But one will wake and still be Roger Federer)
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he shone as he stomped around Wimbledon's courts
and his headband turned red as it soaked up his thoughts
some wanted him punished, some offered their thanks
for his charismatic union of artistry and angst
his sensitive intensity his furious finesse
he got in rages, rattled cages, was outrageously the best
and everyone heard what John McEnroe said
from the punters at home to those back in row Zed
and everyone saw how John McEnroe played
the angles he found & the shots that he made
when we gasped, asked: did that really happen though?
they 'd say, reckon so - that was John McEnroe
has the McEnfellow mellowed
from the firebrand who once bellowed
on these courts so very hallowed
all those Wimbledons ago?
John, please say it isn't so
say this could never happen, whoa,
your strings will never slacken, no!
for every game's a passion show
with McEnroe
his tongue's still sharp, sharp as his eyes
he sees the words early - meets them all on the rise
but does McEnroe feel just the slightest bit weary as
he hears for the squintillionth time the never-ending echo of
you cannot be serious?
(erious, erious, erious, erious….)
Inspired by a training session for ball boys and girls—“BBGs,”—Harvey wrote a poem dedicated to them:
for the BBGs
tact-enabled procedure perfecters designer labeled towel collectors
part of the Wimbledon whirr and hum the competence collective, the great unsung
formidably biddable young retainers indispensible dispensers, daydream refrainers
well-drilled oiled cogs old tricks new dogs
champion scamperers, bare-kneed butlers super scoopers, stooping scuttlers
statues on standby, border patrollers ball hoarders, feeders, rollers
high handed server loaders the better they do it the less we notice
Oli Scarff / Getty Images
Excuse me. I'm sorry. I speak as an Englishman For the game of lawn tennis there's no better symbol than Wimbledon
The place where the game's flame was sparked and then kindled in Where so many spines have sat straight and then tingled in Wimbledon
Where strawberries and cream have traditionally been sampled in Kids' eyes have lit up and their cheeks have been dimpled in Wimbledon
Where tough tennis cookies have cracked and then crumbled in Top seeds have stumbled, have tumbled, been humbled in Wimbledon
Where home-grown heroes' hopes have swelled up and then dwindled in Wimbledon
The Grand Slams' best of breed, it's the whizz it's the biz The temple where physics expresses its fizz There's one word for tennis and that one word is Wimbledon
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There is a couplet from Rudyard Kipling's poem 'If'' inscribed above the double doors through which the players pass to get to Centre Court. It says: 'If you can meet with triumph and disaster/and treat those two imposters just the same'
Those two imposters? It's quite hard to treat them just the same. There's one I've yet to meet…
Not So Sweet on Court 16
There's such a thing as an assassin's stare. She meets her net opponent's baleful glare and raises it. High Stakes. She takes no prisoners. A hit girl. It's not personal. It's just business.
Paul Gilham / Getty Images
