The Champion on Court One: Oda Crushes GB’s Hewett

Pimm's, strawberries and cream, Murray Mound —few things encapsulate quintessential British culture better than Wimbledon. Yet there are parts of Wimbledon which receive far less attention than others.

On finals day, while most people gathered around Centre Court to watch Jannik Sinner dominate, I went to the All England Club to watch something different. Sitting in a half-full Court One, I was watching one of Britain's greatest sportsmen. A man with 35 major titles and a Paralympic gold medal, who does not get anywhere near the attention he deserves. I am, of course, talking about Wheelchair Tennis player Alfie Hewett.

Hewett had had a relatively straightforward route to the final. His only real scare came in the semi-final, where he found himself a set down against Gustavo Fernández. He bounced back by ‘bagelling’ the Argentine in the second set before comfortably taking the third.

Waiting for him in the final was his long-term rival, the brilliant young Japanese player Tokito Oda. A man with what must be one of the scariest records to play against. He had won the previous five matches against Hewett. Would this one be any different?

I wish I could say yes.

As my brother and I sat on Court One, the crowd slowly started to lose a very British virtue: patience. Hewett was being taken apart in front of his home crowd. The first set disappeared 6-1. The second was just as hard to watch. Oda was brilliant.

Halfway through the first set, I realised this was not going to be an article about British brilliance. It was going to be about the young Japanese star.

Oda looked streets ahead of Hewett. He was dismantling him, not too dissimilar to what Sinner was doing on Centre Court just over 100 metres away. Every rally seemed to be on his terms. He took the ball early, attacked every opportunity and barely gave Hewett a chance to settle.

Hewett losing, however, is not a sad story. A day earlier, he had beaten Oda to win the doubles title. Speaking to fans who knew far more about wheelchair tennis than I do, they explained that as Hewett has gotten older, his game has naturally shifted more towards doubles. He remains one of the very best players in the world.

So when Hewett's final backhand clipped the net and crowned Oda Wimbledon champion once again, there was no groan from me. Just admiration.

The Japanese star, ten years younger than Hewett, was a joy to watch. He played with a fearless aggression, taking returns from almost on top of the service line. He reminded me of a young Federer. Another man who did not mind the grass of Wimbledon.

A couple of days later, while reliving the day, something genuinely shocked me. The highlights of the wheelchair singles final had just 25,000 views.

This sport deserves so much more.

Wheelchair tennis is brilliant. As someone who spent far too much of my youth being too slow to get to drop shots, watching players push a wheelchair to balls I would never have reached on foot completely fascinated me. It is fast, skilful and unbelievably athletic.

So if you ever get the chance to watch a wheelchair tennis match, take it.

You might think you’re just going to watch Britain's greatest wheelchair player. Instead, you might discover a new sport, new stars, new stories to fall in love with, and is that not what this is all about?

Photo credit Reuben Graves