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In Search of Judy Murray: Tragedy & Triumph at Rogers Cup

10/21/2014

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If a picture is taken and nobody sees it, does that mean it never existed? 

My love affair with tennis turned 20 this summer. The 1994 Wimbledon Ladies' Final was the first tennis match I ever watched; ten years old, sitting in my living room in Jamaica, I hadn't a clue what to make of Conchita Martinez and Martina Navratilova's three-set battle. But, I was hooked. Now that I live in Canada, the Rogers Cup has become a yearly ritual. Each year I get to alternate between watching tennis' best men and women compete in Toronto. This year, I went in search of pictures and stories. It was the first time I was writing and tweeting about the event, and equipped with a new camera, I was intent on capturing as many pictures as possible. Little did I know that a chance encounter with Judy Murray would trigger such fluctuating emotions and result in the writing of this story. 

Prior to the tournament, I made a "treasure hunt" of sorts: a list of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see during my stay at the Rexall Centre. Chief among these was a photograph with Judy Murray. I placed it so high because I figured the top spot should be reserved for something difficult to achieve, something that in all likelihood wouldn't happen. After all, I had no idea if Judy would even be in Toronto. Sure, Andy and Jamie were competing, but I knew Judy has wide-ranging commitments and interests. Even if she were at the tournament, what were the chances I'd actually be close enough to ask for a picture?  
I only recently became a fan of Judy Murray. I had certainly known of her for years, and seen her countless times in the stands cheering on Andy through gritted teeth and two clenched fists. But it was only when I started using Twitter in earnest a year ago that I came to know more about Judy, and get a grasp of her personality. Through her Twitter account, I learned she is often uproariously funny, a quality that is enhanced greatly when considered against how dour Andy tends to be on court. She has worn her infatuation with Feliciano Lopez cheekily on her sleeve, coining "Deliciano" as her own personal nickname for the Spaniard. She also spends a fair bit of time letting the tennis world know of her love for sweets, posting pictures of her latest sugary conquest. 
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Part of what makes her so intriguing is that she is the mother of one of the biggest tennis stars in the world, yet she has carved out her own niche separate from her role as coach and mother. She went rogue. Who doesn't get a kick out of that dynamic? 

The first two days of the Rogers Cup was the "Pizzaville Free Community Weekend." Patrons were granted free entry to the qualifying matches and were gifted the opportunity to watch the top stars practice against each other all around the grounds, including centre court. My first glimpse of Judy came at the main practice courts on day two. It took me some time to even notice her presence, as Andy was practising on the court next to Roger Federer and Grigor Dimitrov. When you first get to the practice courts, it can be a tad overwhelming as you slowly start to recognize all the players and coaches in front of you scattered across the four courts. I must have been there for at least 10 minutes before I saw Judy, and only when Federer and Dimitrov took a breather and sat down next to her.   

Picture
How many people can you identify in this picture?
But, there she was, perched inconspicuously in the corner as Federer, Dimitrov, Roger Rasheed, and Stefan Edberg chatted and laughed. I thought, "at least I got this really cool picture." Judy was sitting inches from Federer and the two never spoke nor, as far as I could tell, acknowledged each other. This is the type of people-watching on offer at tennis tournaments that makes the experience miles better than watching on TV. 

During the first two days of the tournament, players practised all over the Rexall Centre grounds. Fans were treated to light-hearted exhibitions between top players, a blitz of insider access to the sport that showcased everything the television cameras are unable to capture. 
With the start of the tournament on day 3, the free-for-all weekend gave way to tight practice schedules; I had to put in the work to complete my treasure hunt. On my way to the event for Monday's play, I paid close attention to Twitter for tournament updates and tips from people who were already on the grounds. On the parking lot shuttle bus, I saw on Twitter that Judy Murray had been spotted walking casually though Rexall Centre.

I thought, "Oh my God, Judy's on the loose!"

The first order of business was to check the practice courts; I assumed that Judy was on her way to have a look in on one of her boys. But, she was nowhere in sight. I took a stroll past the Milos Raonic Grandstand and the outer courts to see if anything interesting was on offer. Lo and behold, I spotted Andy Murray. Being but a few feet away from one of the game's greats sent my mind into overdrive: do I take pictures? Do I just take it all in and store the experience safely in my memory? Who is he even hitting with? Where's Amélie? Somehow, in the midst of all that confusion, I overheard someone say, "she's Andy's mom."

In stealth private detective mode, I left my courtside position to investigate.   
Nestled behind the court and out of view, Judy stood, phone in hand, having a private look at Andy's session. The security guards and Judy's position beyond them made it clear to me that I had to navigate this situation carefully; the last thing I wanted to do was to invade her privacy and act obnoxiously in search of a picture. I also didn't want to draw attention to her and be the cause of a hoard of people rushing toward her. 

I decided to stand off to the side with one eye on Andy and Amelie and the other alert to any sudden movements by Judy. I resolved to gently ask her for a photo if the opportunity arose. When the time came, I approached her with a smile, told her I was a big fan, and asked if she would be kind enough to grant a photo.
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Judy checks her phone while watching Andy Murray having a hit at the 2014 Rogers Cup.
I still don't know if she said anything in response; I only recall her nodding graciously, and thus began a span of a few hours that I won't soon forget. I thanked her, secured the services of an older gentleman to take the hallowed photograph, and took my spot to Judy's left. Right, this was actually happening! What couldn't have been more than 15 seconds felt like an eternity as the gentleman struggled with the zoom - it felt as though I was holding her hostage! I thanked Judy profusely and we went our separate ways.

I fired off a tweet or two celebrating the occasion then texted my partner to deliver the wondrous news - I had scored a picture with Judy Murray. I could have run for miles and not missed a breath. Over the next few minutes I walked off the excitement, doing nothing in particular, trying to refocus myself for the rest of the day's tennis. As I made my way back to the practice courts, I decided to review the pictures I had already taken and clear some space on my memory card. 

You probably know where this is heading. 
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My text sequence of excitement followed by horror.
I got on a roll deleting a sequence of blurry action shots, and as soon as I realized I should slow down for fear of deleting something useful, it was too late.

Judy was gone.

The Rexall Centre has quaint wooden benches littered throughout the grounds, designed to offer a quick pit stop for weary fans. All weekend they turned their backs on me when I needed them. But, as I stood utterly devastated, one had been cosmically vacated for my time of need, to sit and process what had happened, and think through a solution. 

I kept trying to convince myself that there must be a way to retrieve the photo - surely it couldn't be lost forever - not in 2014 with the abundance of technologies at our disposal. I calmly googled if retrieval was possible and discovered that there were software programs that aided in such crises. The caveat was...everything I read required that I stop using the memory card in the camera until I performed the recovery; failure to do so would seriously compromise any chance of seeing me beside Judy again. 
There I was, pondering my dilemma, as people galloped by in the nagging drizzle. The giddiness of only 20 minutes prior had vacated, leaving me with a feeling of intense defeat. I looked up to the darkened skies and estimated I had at least an hour before play resumed, which might give me enough time to run home and return without missing too much play. But, would they allow re-entry to the venue? Could I reuse my parking pass? Invigorated by affirmative answers to these questions, I bolted. 

I had made 5 one-way trips to the Rogers Cup up to this point, none taking less than 30 minutes. This time, I hit every green light. Twenty minutes later, I was scouring Google for software, reading reviews and hoping for the best. After a handful of failed attempts, I found a program that got the job done in no time. I had almost made peace with the loss of the photo when it magically reappeared on my computer screen. My exuberance and resultant carelessness were to blame for the fiasco, but thankfully I had been given a free pass. The panic and dread of the previous two hours was over. 
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Judy & me
Andy Murray made his debut at the tournament on day five; he played Nick Kyrgios in the second round on Centre Court. The match didn't offer much by way of compelling tennis, as Andy's consistency was no match for Nick in the day's opener. Frankly, a bit bored, I scoured the stadium in search of Judy once more. I snapped a few photos as she bid farewell to an acquaintance on her way out of the stadium. Later in the week, I added a bit of Beyonce humour to them and sent it out on Twitter. In true Judy fashion, she was hilarious in her response. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful week of tennis. 

What began as a bit of fun and a pipe dream turned out to be quite the roller coaster ride. The treasure hunt I designed prior to the tournament turned out to be a catalyst for bringing the tennis to life. As a tennis fan, I cannot stress enough how much fun it is to walk the grounds at an event. The live experience trumps the comfort of the living room at every turn. You never know who you will run into, who you will see, or what you will experience next. 

I will be back at the Rogers Cup next year for the women's event; a photo with Venus will likely be at the top of my treasure hunt. What have I learned from my week with Judy? Never delete a picture until you've uploaded them all safely, and always carry an extra memory card!  

"@SportScribeCA: @judmoo shares her beauty secrets! #Flawless pic.twitter.com/5EyVtOhTBs" drink a veggie smoothie + iron my face? :-) #shelied

— judy murray (@judmoo) August 11, 2014



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