In case it isn’t obvious by now, I am fascinated with the organizational dynamics of the tennis industry. When I recently stumbled across a book that promised to dish out the “inside scoop” on the operations of Wimbledon, the purchase decision was automatic. What I got, was “Everything you ever wanted to know about courtesy cars during the fortnight, but were afraid to ask.” As it turns out, my interest in the bureaucratic machinations of tennis has limits. Good to know.
Wimbledon Confidential is a personal memoir of Patricia Edwards who served as the transportation manager at the Grand Slam for over 30 years. The title is deliberately intended to imply that it contains insider information on the Championships. The only big revelation is that tennis players, officials, and VIPs require transport from point A to point B during the tournament. The All England Club provides courtesy cars to make that happen.
In 1972, Edwards was working at a temp agency that specialized in placement of a workforce selected on appearance and personality rather than any particular skills. Wimbledon wasn’t looking for skilled drivers, but rather female models that could drive. Fun fact, more than half of the first women selected failed the driving test. However, the examiners were more than happy to stick around and provide additional driving lessons.
Wimbledon Confidential doesn’t deliver on the implicit promise of inside information. The book is a series of stories about some of the noteworthy players that the author rubbed elbows with in the course of managing the transportation office. She was charmed by some of the players and thought that others were self-absorbed jerks. That is hardly a surprise.
The result is that Wimbledon Confidential is a book with appeal to a very narrow tennis demographic. Anyone who is interested in the history and process of operating a transportation department during tennis tournaments will glean a lot of insight. Readers seeking insight into Wimbledon beyond starry eyed fandom, will be disappointed.
Edwards writes nostalgically about how players and the tournament had changed throughout her tenure. That recurring theme may be a retroactive justification on why she retired when she did. At the time, the All England Club had decided to compete the contract for the transportation position. Edwards declined to put in a bid. It is quite possible that the tournament was gently nudging her to the realization that it was time to move on.
Coming in a memoir, that insight might have been poignant or profoundly sad. In Wimbledon Confidential, the emotion evoked was more akin to relief. 30 years is a long time for someone to dedicate their life to courtesy car transportation.
For anyone who finds themselves in charge of a transportation fleet for a big event, Wimbledon Confidential is for you. For the rest of us, it is simply a reminder to keep looking for a book that actually delivers on the promise of inside information for that tournament.
 | Wimbledon Confidential |
