The French Open: A spring celebration of tennis and life
In the early morning stillness of a spring summer, the pathway lining Phillippe Chatrier is a picture of calm serenity. As the sun shone bright, the grey cobble stones were glistening like shells even as the storekeepers busied themselves preparing their kiosks for the busy day that lay ahead. There are really only a couple of matches of substance to fill the day, but then tennis was always just the perfect excuse. The French Open is a celebration of life in a uniquely Parisian way.
Soon the passage will be milling with people of all imaginable hues and their boundless energy will pervade the path. It is the lifeline of Roland Garros that stretches from one end to the other. It circles around the Bull Ring (Court 1) and goes past the imposing Chatrier to its right before walking you through the intimate Court 7, before throwing its arms around Court Suzanne Lenglen.
The path reaches a cul de sac, as you wander along courts 12 through 18, which for no fault of theirs are enveloped in an air of remoteness. It might interest you that there is no court 13 at the Roland Garros, in its place is a Tennis Club to engage with the crowds. This year, they have filled it with sand for an inviting game of beach tennis, for anyone that might care to play.
As the day builds up, couples – young and old – occupy the quaint wooden benches that line the pathway. And there is not an inch wasted, as milling people walk slowly along the passage just breathing the heavy air. On closer observation, you can see their sense of belonging, pride and joy at being a part again of this carnival – le carnaval de Boulogne.
Musicians play the accordion, there are jugglers and men and women on stilts generally fooling around and spreading joy and laughter. Working the children and their parents into fits of joy, the intimacy brought about by their small yet indulgent acts is something that adds both charm and character to the celebrations around the place.
Of course there is the tennis and that is primarily the act that draws an audience measuring into a few hundred thousand each year. But as Gilbert Ysern, the managing director of the FFT and the man behind the show admits, “it is not lost on us that people come here for a day out and it cannot only be about tennis. This is why we offer them an experience that consists of the tennis, the food and drink and an opportunity to pick some souvenirs to cherish those memories.”
Roland Garros is also about a celebration of history. The French crave a home bred champion on these portals – there hasn’t been one since Yannick Noah among men and Mary Pierce among the women. And this is why perhaps they seek comfort in the solemn elegance that marks the Place des Mousquetaires.
Nestled between Chatrier and Court 1 is a little well of relief, with the Davis Cup at the centre guarded by sculptures of Les Quatre Mousquetaires (the four musketeers) - Jean Borotra, Jacques Brugnon, Henri Cochet and René Lacoste who flew the French flag with high honour during a period of immense riches for French tennis. The circular courtyard celebrates their string of Davis Cup successes, when they were untouchable for a period of six years from 1927 through 1932.
On small tables around the 21 acre park, seated outside makeshift cafes, families indulge in food and drink even as they regale each other with stories of their experiences on the twenty courts around the park. The odd squeal of delight fills the air whenever a star of familiarity and renown makes a rare appearance on the cobbled pathways, their attention drawn toward the protagonists of this carnival like celebration.
Sometimes there are too many of them and people can be seen scampering from court to court, eager to ensure that they get a glimpse of each player they adore. But it isn’t only about hassled people running ragged to try and make the most of their tickets. There are beautifully sequined ladies, in their shiny beiges, escorting high society guests to their padded seats on the front rows of the show courts.
In a quaint corner across the bull ring, is space reserved for the many sponsors that deliver cash for the iconic event. In these tented spaces, you hear the clinking of champagne flutes as iconic French brands jostle for space to entertain their high and mighty friends with gourmet food and fine drinks. Suited men and women sit here and reap the rewards of their association with the grand tournament.
It is the children though that steal the show. Running around with boundless energy, they mill around with oversized tennis balls, scarred with the scribbling of their favourite heroes. Every time they get one, they spread an infectious smile, one that is at most times enough to delight their parents, perhaps even soothe their souls.
Tennis certainly could not have asked for a better place to kindle its relationships with people and stoke some happiness all around as it does here at the Roland Garros.