The Queue ( Wimbledon Rules!)

Another amusing poem written by Teresa Harrison- Best who was reading the rules and general etiquette of Wimbledon which made her laugh in places. She has never visited but understands from some of her fanatical friends it is an institution, unlike any other.

The Queue (Wimbledon Rules!)

It’s a quintessential business
and the Brits have got it right.
Queuing up for Wimbledon
sleeping there all night.

The protocols are simple
no pushing or you’re out.
No sneaking off to posh hotels
or you’re really up the spout!

The rules are clear and most succinct
to save a spot’s taboo.
Reservations are for restaurants
unless you need the loo!

Forget the matching luggage
no room for endless bags.
Don’t skulk around with lots of booze
you little scally wags!

Fire camps and barbeques
are strictly out of bounds.
Erections of any kind ?
Not within these grounds!

No playing music loudly
(unless it is Sir Cliff!).
The dress code is conservative
no showing your midriff.

Now assuming that you’re lucky
and you get to centre court,
the umpire has the final say
so don’t get over wrought.

Be prepared to part with dosh,
the strawberries cost a mint.
It’s Wimbledon for goodness sake
despite the fact you’re skint!

Banners, flags and klaxons
are simply not allowed.
You know it’s not a football match
it’s a more up-market crowd!

Binoculars are quite superb
to see the super rich.
Please remember centre court
is not a rugby pitch!

So there you have it in a shell
the etiquette and rules.
To disregard and flout the law
is folly for the fools.

Written by Teresa Harrison-Best