Stella for £8.50 and Vodafone deckchairs – welcome to the Wimbledon queue’s new ‘activation’ zone

Henman Hill, that bastion of the British sporting summer annually packed with rows of picnics, Pimm’s and champagne, has a new option this year for those in search of a pint. ‘Stella Artois on The Hill’ is a first for Wimbledon, with the long-term beer partner keen to increase their presence at the Championships. A pint will set you back £8.50 (a 95p increase on last year) or £4.25 for a half, but comes with the option of you being able to pour a pint yourself into an actual glass, as one satisfied punter happily pointed out, rather than the usual plastic.

That is not the only corporate roll-out this year at SW19. There is the launch of an “activation” zone at the end of ‘the Queue’, with those who have spent the best part of the weekend waiting to be let into Wimbledon now spending the final moments before entering the ground at last in a field packed with stalls belonging to Wimbledon’s partners. Stella Artois for some refreshment, Lavazza for coffee, Evian for water, Vodafone offering ... deckchairs and phone charging.

Barclays, whose presence is unmistakable next to a big screen showing the action from Centre Court, also have a ‘Take on Tiafoe’ tennis simulator where fans can attempt to return a serve from (Barclays ambassador and World No 29) Frances Tiafoe. If you were not sure of the tournament’s brand partners when you started queuing, the finale makes sure you will not forget in a hurry.

Hearteningly, there is still something quite organic about the simplicity and peak Britishness of this institution, particularly when hearing how punters swerved the £16 burgers and pizzas on offer.

A father and son had ordered a McDonald’s to a nearby address, having previously exited the site to go for a Nando’s. England’s 5pm kick-off on Sunday evening had provided some respite – well, once Jude Bellingham equalised – with some watching on their phones or sneaking out to pubs for slightly longer than the 30-minute time limit permitted to be away from your tent.

Everyone is woken up at 5.30am each day to begin packing up their tents and preparing for the final stretch, with the queue split up into 17 different ‘K’ sections. Happily, a dog was spotted bounding around by K9.

Those still arriving by 9.30am and reaching the large yellow ‘Q’ flag at the back of the line were reassured by a steward that they would get in after around four hours, and began to prep picnic blankets and open bottles, playing games or sunbathing, with umbrellas being used for protection from the heat. One person was spotted with a Macbook open working away; their home office now the busiest field in SW19. The prohibited items list – featuring the usual suspects while including no political slogans, large flags or selfie sticks – feels designed to create queuing utopia.

Blase Walton, the first in the queue with the No 1 ticket, arrived at 8am on Friday morning. That is serious work, particularly when he has tickets for Centre Court on Thursday anyway. “I love day one because the grass is fresh, any court you go on you are always going to get a great player to watch, everyone is still in the tournament. It’s my best day,” he explains.

The key seems to be in the planning, having parked in a nearby driveway and negotiated to have a quick shower each day. What about being first in the queue? “It becomes a bit of a hassle in the end, people asking the same questions. I can see how proper pros get fed up.”

The early morning sun reflecting off an 8am can of Pimms naturally leads me to another group, with one member attending for the first time and another two present for at least their eighth. “It’s so true that the people who queue get the best seats on the day... as long as you put in the hard yards. It’s one of the few premier sporting events where you can literally turn up.”

George, standing nearby, imagines what a similar system would be like for an England football match. “[This is] so British, so organised. If there was a queue for next week’s England game there would be fights, it would be manic.”

Not forgetting how far people have travelled. One punter in an immaculate white suit flew in from Houston. Another, Curt from Munich, dressed like an umpire and queuing for the first time, arrived at lunchtime on Saturday and will head back home spreading the word about this country’s impeccable ability to wait in a line.

“I think we [in Germany] can learn a bit, there is so much discipline. You see all the helping hands picking up rubbish from the ground, other people telling you about the rules, everyone is polite saying ‘good morning’ and ‘enjoy your day’.”

Any grumbling from punters about aching backs or lack of sleep was put into perspective after coming across 83-year-old Richard Hess. “Step into my office,” he says warmly, sat in a deckchair and having camped out since 6pm on Saturday. Richard was pointed out by another group who said he had been handing out puzzles to keep them entertained. This is his 42nd Wimbledon, having first watched Tracy Austin in 1978 with his daughter, a class-mate of Austin’s. The queue back in 1978 was about 100 people. By 9.50am on Monday punters were being warned there was no guarantee they would get into the grounds, with the queue having already hit its 10,000 capacity.

Every year, Richard flies over from Los Angeles. “I keep coming back and I’m trying to decide whether I like it or not…” he jokes. “I love it here. I love the people, the culture, the tennis.” He has seen so many greats, but the best? “[Novak] Djokovic probably, or maybe Andre [Agassi]. The game gets better every year. I’m going to decide whether I want to come back next year or not. If my health persists, I will be back.”

Interestingly, every single person in the queue said they would do it again. Yes, coming to Wimbledon is expensive, and increasingly corporate. But the magic remains reassuringly undimmed.