Cette animation, “Smash the silence”, consistait à taper des balles dans le but de briser les vitres en sucres sur lesquelles étaient inscrites la fameuse phrase “Smash the silence”, nouveau slogan de la marque aux trois bandes. Ana a débuté de manière convaincainte, Simona a été plus laborieuse, Jo s’en est sorti sans problèmes, et puis Andy Murray nous a fait peur. Il frappait ses balles sans retenue, certaines ont même heurté des journalistes cloitrés sur le coté, tout cela sous les regards amusés d’Ana, Simona & Jo. Ensuite étaient accordées aux médias 30 minutes d’interviews, les télés et radios d’un coté, les blogs de l’autre. Mes confrères blogueurs, surement impressionnés, ne se bousculaient pas pour interviewer Ana. J’ai donc pris mon courage à deux mains et lui ai posé une question concernant ses tenues (plutôt que sur ses espérances pour Roland-Garros, question un peu bateau). Je lui ai demandé si Adidas lui laissait participer à la création de ses tenues, elle m’a répondu qu’elle avait un droit de parole limité mais qu’il lui arrivait de donner des idées, des coloris..
Puis se sont enchainées les interviews, avec davantage d’intervenants pour Jo et Andy.
Enfin, les joueurs ont pris place au rez-de-chaussée pour la séance de dédicaces ouverte au grand public.
They called him the ice man, but there was so much more to Björn Borg than cool detachment and a wispy beard. Twenty-five years after the Swede’s last and greatest Wimbledon triumph, award-winning novelist Tim Pears offers a remarkable portrait of the rebellious teenager who became an accidental Nordic mystic – and an all-time great.
‘I think Björn’s greatest victory was not the way he came to master his ground strokes, but the change he underwent, with terrible determination, to tame his passionate spirit.’ Lennart Bergelin, Borg’s coach
Was ever a great champion so misunderstood, even in the broad light of his glory, as Björn Borg? By the time of the Wimbledon championships of 1980, when he was 24, he had won the grass-court competition each of the four preceding years, as well as the French Open, on clay, five times. On contrasting surfaces that required radically different approaches, this was an achievement without precedent. And yet the calm young master was widely regarded as an automaton, a robot. The Swede had is i magen: ice in his stomach. In the British press he was the ‘Iceberg’. His admirers no less than his critics described a man with cold blood running through his veins.
How wrong they were. Borg was not blessed with abundant talent, but the talent he had he surrendered to, with the devotion of an instinctive faith, until he achieved liberation. Borg was an inspiration and I wondered how others could not see that his heart was filled with joy for this game and that he hid this joy not to deny it, but rather to nurture its presence within him.
Born on 6 June 1956, Borg was brought up in Södertälje, an industrial town of 100,000 people 30 minutes drive south-west of Stockholm, the only child of Margarethe and Rune, a clothes-shop assistant. He first appeared at Wimbledon in 1972, winning the junior title, a lanky Swedish youth with a straggle of blond brown hair. He had blue eyes that were so close together they appeared slightly crossed. He kept them averted from other people, betraying the shy evasion of a teenager who believes everyone is looking at him – the one object he focused on was a tennis ball when about to hit it. He had a sharp nose in a thin, feral face, with a long pointed chin; his wide shoulders were stooped and he walked with a rolling gait. And yet everywhere he went he was pursued by mobs of schoolgirls. Less a Viking, really, than an Arthurian knight, Borg was embraced by England. We were drawn to his modesty. Read More