During the press conference that followed his third round win over Ernests Gulbis, Novak Djokovic was asked to ruminate on his journey. “Paradoxes and contradictions are some of the more interesting parts of life,” observed his inquisitor. “You’re on this journey that’s exploring different aspects of life, very subtle, inward quiet. Yet tennis is such a war, a battle, winner, loser, boxing without the violence. How do the two aspects of your life impact each other? Does your journey in any way diminish your ferocity, your fight?” Eh?

Johanna Konta and Andy Murray make history with different approaches | Barry Glendenning Read more

As interrogatory projectiles go, it was a more profound query than the traditional football press conference staple that is “any knocks?”, but then Wimbledon post mortems have long been renowned for their quirky inanity and occasionally kooky weirdness. As well as predictable queries about aching hips, Australian ennui and the controversies surrounding court surfaces and women’s scheduling, assorted still sweating players have this fortnight been asked to field questions regarding the weirdest things they’ve been asked to autograph, their favourite desserts, the differences between fatherhood and motherhood, the taste of flying ants and the reality rutting televisual extravaganza that is Love Island. On one occasion, the morbid subject of player mortality raised its head. “Does it worry you when you get a cold at your age that this could be the end?” asked one buzz-kill of Roger Federer after his win over Mischa Zverev. “It’s extremely scary times for me right now,” replied the 35-year-old, with a sniffle and a smile.

On Monday, another journalist – accompanied by the sound of much schoolboy sniggering – inquired of Johanna Konta: “The five busts of the former champions. Have you wondered how you would look in bronze?” She smiled, and replied: “Do you want to answer your own question with what you think I’m going to say.”

These occasionally amusing and often fatuous lines of enquiry are generally soundtracked by the sound of rolling eyes and curling toes, as seething sports hacks make little or no attempt to conceal their irritation at having to surrender time that might be better spent discussing the finer points of actual tennis to idle flights of fancy raised by footsoldiers in the army of domestic and international news and lifestyle journalists that descend on Wimbledon to pursue agendas of a more whimsical kind. “It’s always a joy to see you play,” cooed one reporter when Federer sat down to face the press after his first round win. “Thank you,” he replied, after an excruciating pause in which it became painfully apparent that no actual question would be forthcoming.

Facebook Twitter Pinterest Britain’s Andy Murray speaks at a press conference at Wimbledon. Photograph: Jed Leicester/AP

The Wimbledon press room is unique in tennis circles as a melting pot of gossip-mongers, tabloid news hounds, chin-stroking tennis writers and - on Monday, at least - a man wearing a green and purple Biggles hat dressed as Rufus the Wimbledon hawk. With each faction pursuing incompatible agendas and interests they believe to be more pressing than those of their rivals, tensions sometimes simmer and on one occasion famously boiled over. A tinderbox at the best of times during his playing days, in 1981 John McEnroe erupted in a volcanic rage and stormed out of a Wimbledon press conference upon being asked about the state of his relationship with girlfriend Stacey Margolin by the Mirror’s royal correspondent James Whittaker. His exit prompted a skirmish, with battle lines drawn between navel-gazing American tennis-writers and the British counterparts they viewed as uncouth gossipmongers. Mirror tennis writer Nigel Clarke and RKO radio’s Charlie Steiner ended up trading blows in the subsequent unseemly scuffle.

Media relations this year have been comparatively cordial and as vacuous as some press conference queries might be, they have at least moved on from the time in 2007 when Tatiana Golovin caused quite the media rumpus by wearing scarlet red knickers on court under her regulation white skirt. Following her three-set victory over Hsieh Su-wei, the teenager sat down for reporters and was asked a dozen questions, 10 of which pertained to her choice of pants. “Can I ask you about your knickers?” inquired one newshound, before another pronounced them to be “lovely” and said they would quite like a pair. “Are you going to keep on wearing them?” asked one drooling hack, prompting Golovin to announce she’d do so for as long as she kept winning, beyond which her choice of smalls would then remain “a surprise”. By contrast, that longwinded question about paradoxes, contradictions and the Djokovic life balance was refreshingly high-brow.