As Jack Draper arched his back to serve, a set and a break up on Court No 1, a well-groomed man in thick silver sunglasses stood up in his seat and posed for a photo in front of the action, chewing theatrically on the handle of his lustrously finished handbag, thereby conveying to his social media feed that he was (a) present, vital, right here in the moment; and (b) not very interested in tennis.
Nobody seemed to mind. In fairness Wimbledon’s big Tuesday best-of-British event did feel a bit like this. Less an act of white-hot sporting drama, more just, like, a really cool thing happening.
