Reincarnation time? Maybe I'll come back as Wimbledon champ

As someone who enjoys the women's tennis at Wimbledon, so to speak, the tournament's opening days are an annual joy and this week has been electric.

- Emma Brockes

Monday Emma Raducanu leads the surge in British women powering up the world rankings, which makes the era of women's tennis I grew up in - I have a lot of time for Jo Durie, but those were hard years - seem like the 19th century. Today, after two stunning opening round matches, Raducanu was due to meet Aryna Sabalenka, the mighty Belarusian world number one, which means tomorrow I will be on court one (in the park) knocking imaginary clay dust from my shoes and pretending to be in the final.

If the tennis is sublime, the crowd so far has been slightly under par - although it's early days. Last year, the title of Wimbledon best dressed for my money went to Greta Gerwig, in a tan suit the provenance of which I still can't track down, as well as Zendaya in Ralph Lauren and Julia Roberts in Gucci. This week in the royal box and around the grounds we've had Cate Blanchett, who is welcome in any setting, Olivia Rodrigo, and Russell Crowe, who combed his hair and dug out a tie for Centre Court. (Esquire ran a story about the £65k Rolex he was wearing, which if it was intended to set us against him, won't work - I won't hear a word against Rusty).

There were also, as usual, a high turnout of what my teenage tennis partner and I used to refer to nastily as Midweek Ladies, a crowd who, off-court, wear floral, ankle-length dresses in pale shades, and on-court are always one double fault away from losing their nerve and reverting to an underhand serve.