My day out with Roger Federer

Guess what happened to me today?

I went back to the O2 Arena to see Roger play. Right! But! I got there with minutes to spare after some interminable fucking around on tube trains that were broken all over London plus much walking. Anyway, I'm rushing up to level 4 where my seat is, high up in the highest gods, and an attendant hoikes me to one side and says: "Are you alone?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Here." And she presses into my hand a new ticket that is for level 1, much better seat than the one I paid for!

"Um, what?" I said.

"We just have a few single seats spare. We like them to be used."

"Thank you. Wow. Thank you!" And she's laughing at the look on my face. Level 1! The fancy seats!

I stagger back down to Level 1, just in time for the match to begin. At first I can't find this strange row called 'GG'. It's clearly not row G. Finally, I ask an assistant. She takes me right down the steps to the front. It's the second row back, to one corner.

I sit down and Roger Federer is basically serving into my face.

I spend the next two hours alternately gaping, texting and taking photos. There was a moment when he leapt off the court into the air to reach a ball, and smashed it down. It was such a perfect display of athleticism that I, and the whole stadium, involuntarily cried out.

Afterwards, in some sort of karmic payback, all the trains at Paddington were delayed and then I got drenched cycling home. But essentially today was a day of amazingness.