Today begins "the Fortnight." As a boy I rabidly consumed every telecast of the Wimbledon championships. The pickings were slim in those days: you were pretty much limited to what NBC aired. In the 1970s and early 1980s, that was 15 minutes of highlights each weeknight (perhaps only in the second week, at that) and tape-delayed coverage on the middle weekend. We were lucky to have "Breakfast At Wimbledon" on the finals weekend, showing the gentlemen's championship, and later the ladies' championship, live at 9 a.m., East Coast time in America. I came of age as a Wimbledon fan in the Borg era. The Swede had a stranglehold on the title, winning five in a row, and getting the final a sixth straight year. It was magic.
I went to the tournament for the first time in 1994 and have been back roughly half the years since then. It is still magic.
