AOP Members Personal Projects

Wimbledon: Center Court, 1980; Bjorn Borg vs John McEnroe. It was cited as the best Wimbledon final by ESPN’s countdown show “Who’s Number One?” and “one of the three or four greatest sporting events in history” by ESPN personality Mike Greenberg. A young lady Diana was there in the audience also and I took this fleeting shot.

I had been there the day before also – the first day of a photo assignment for Denstu, Japan. My task was to photograph a range of behind-the-scenes/historically significant people behind the tournament. Sure, I had had regular fun too. I watched a few matches in between photo sessions but I had also wondered into places where the general public would never go. I was exposed to the overpowering aroma from some of the 27000 kilos of strawberries, annually consumed there – and I was breathing, still capable of exposing film.  Now it was a mere 15 minutes before the final: I was being screamed at by the television crew onto whose camera position I had just climbed.

I have no idea how things are nowadays, but back then there was room in the cramped stadium for only two action TV cameras. The match feed for the entire world originated from these two contraptions. So, at that very moment, that was one of the most sensitive spots in the entire country.

I had been given the highest level permit be there for 2 mins for ‘just a brief shot’ of a female umpire, who was to climb to the umpire’s seat, sit for 30 seconds for the shot and then climb down again. I think it must have been Catherine McTavish, who had made history the year before. She was the tournament’s first female umpire.

The TV crew were now beside themselves with fury at me: “get down get down get don’t touch anything, get down now!“ – And I was still waiting for my subject mount the platform. I was impervious to their yelling and meantime, I glanced to my right and saw Diana Spencer (Lady Di) in the audience and thought to fire off 2 token frames. This made them even angrier. Finally my umpire subject was seated. I took my assignment shots and fled the mayhem.

I have it burned into my memory – the TV crew, still throwing insults at me even as I descended the lowest rungs of the ladder, out of sight into the bleak bunker-like interior of the media room. Here I would be locked in till the end of the match. The camera crew had made sure that nothing would distract them from their single minded match coverage. No one was coming in and no one was going out till it was over.

My sole consolation was that back up the ladder were some very jazzed up TV camera operators whose day’s work had only just begun – – but they were no longer yelling at me any more and that was nice.

I was not to know that this would be a final which would ‘go down in history’ but at that point is was ‘a final’ after all and now that my own assignment was over, I wanted to see it.

But, here I was trapped, mere feet from where the players would be playing. And what is more – “there are no windows in this bunker”. No windows looking out in ‘any’ direction. And to make things worse, nearly no furniture.  Two rickety old director’s chairs and a ‘tinny’ 14” black and white television on an upturned wooden box. That is all.

The sound of the crowd beginning to react to events was modulated by the thick concrete walls and another figure sauntered out of the crummy bathroom. I was not alone in this prison and I recognized the face.

My fellow inmate was none other than James Hunt who won the Formula One World Championship in 1976. Hunt who was one of the jet setters of the time, with a massive reputation and just as big a paparazzi following.

He had just given up racing cars and was beginning a career as sports commentator. Why he was there I just don’t know. But, we were locked alone in that room for that long and exciting match.

We just ‘had to have’ communicated over that tiny TV.  I would not have forgotten if he was reticent, as that would be notable and run contrary to his public persona. Evidently I was not impressed by stardom – – I cannot remember a single article of conversation.

I had nearly forgotten I had ever taken that photo and only rediscovered it in 2010.

Philip Chudy www.philipchudy.com