London, Sunday 6 July 2014. I wake up late, with a question in my head. Will I be going to the Wimbledon final? Before yesterday, this wasn’t something I’d even considered. But now I’m desperate to make it if I can. I’ve watched Federer play live about 20 times over the years, and nine times in just the past month, but I’ve never seen him play a Grand Slam final. Surely, this is my one opportunity: he’ll never make it to another major final, at least not one I have a hope of going to. And if he does win – not likely, admittedly – how great to be able to say: I was there.
Federer and Me: ‘I hadn’t known such excellence was possible. And the effect upon me was instantaneous’
