Only recently did I learn that there are just 500 members of the All England Club. And if you think they are all millionaires, you’re wrong. Some of them are, but you don’t have to be a millionaire to be a member – you just have to be approved. Annual membership costs £100, which tells you that how much money you have isn’t important. Having said that, one of the members is the former head of the Bank of England, so money does play its part in a roundabout way.
Most former singles champions enjoy their membership but few of them make much use of it, and although I live locally, I’m not that different. It’s perhaps a real irony that I drive past the All England Club every single day when I go to my office in the city of London. I do go occasionally to the club, but not often – the chairman is always asking me to come, and maybe I should go there more often, but something stops me. I go into Centre Court sometimes, or I go to the lounge, but I seldom play there. I suppose I want to protect my memories and not make it an everyday part of my life.
My relationship with the club was not always so comfortable. I used to have difficulties with the tradition. As a youngster you’re more rebellious – I didn’t want to understand some of the rules, I didn’t want to obey them all. It took me a long time to work out why everyone had to wear white, why they had to bow in front of the Royal Box, why this and why that.
Over the years I’ve come to understand why it’s like that, and I respect it so much more now than I did when I was playing. Both Wimbledon and I have matured. During the 1989 Championships, after I’d been warned for wearing a Fila shirt that didn’t meet the club’s ‘predominantly white’ rule (see page 125), I had a chat with the German press, and admitted I was irritated with some of the tradition and stuffiness. I complained that they were so strict they’d throw you off the court if you wore blue underpants, and it made headlines. I was a boy then, and I became a man in the intervening years, so some of my views then are not necessarily views I’d subscribe to now.
Maybe one day I’ll make myself available for a couple of team matches, but I wouldn’t want to do that without being properly prepared. And would I get any fun out of it? – I’m not sure I would. The problem is that after two hip replacements, two ankle operations and a whole range of other injuries, I don’t move very well these days. I certainly don’t want to play singles. My glory days are over, even if people still have this image of a 25-year-old serving at high speed and throwing himself around. But I can still hit the ball, I hit with Novak Djokovic in practice sessions, so you never know, I might offer myself for a doubles match or two. It would be quite fun to turn up and watch the opposition’s reaction when they see who they’re playing against. Just don’t tell them I can’t run for the ball any more.