Dan Maskell



Anne White



The weather



Boris Becker



Suzanne Lenglen



Pat Cash



Gabriela Sabatini

The sonorous tones of Dan Maskell were, for several decades, as much a part of Wimbledon as the Duchess of Kent and strawberries and cream. He was known for his catchphrase: "Oh, I say!" and for his habit of covering up his inability to pronounce tricky foreign names by referring to players by their nationality. ("What a delightful shot by the Czech player," was his invariable response to a Hana Mandlikova backhand winner.) He was also strangely fixated on the seventh game of the set, which he never failed to label "all-important". He died in 1992; tennis commentary hasn't been the same since.Anne White was never much of a tennis player, but she was responsible for what must be Wimbledon's most outrageous fashion faux pas. Facing fifth seed Pam Shriver in the first round in 1985, she warmed up in a tracksuit which she then took off to reveal an all-in-one white Lycra jumpsuit. With the match tied at one set all, bad light stopped play; Alan Mills, the referee, instructed White to come back the next day wearing something more appropriate. "I had no idea it would be so controversial," was White's clueless response when called upon to explain herself.The vagaries of the British summer have been a source of endless frustration over the years, but rain delays have also been responsible for some of Wimbledon's more comedic moments, notably Cliff Richard's infamous singalong in 1996 when, backed by a choir of female players, he serenaded the crowd with a selection of his greatest hits. Thanks to Centre Court's retractable roof, such antics are a thing of the past. Yes, it's progress, but is Wimbledon quite Wimbledon without the prospect of entire days lost to rain?Long before he became a rumpled playboy with a fondness for broom cupboards and tax evasion, Boris Becker was a blue-eyed ace machine with a penchant for flinging himself across the freshly mown grass. In 1985, as an unseeded 17-year-old, he won his first of three Wimbledon crowns, beating Kevin Curren in the final. Two years later, when he lost in the second round, he famously declared: "I didn't lose a war. Nobody died. Basically, I just lost a tennis match." Later in his career, as his powers declined, he became less philosophical, often ranting at himself in German.One of the greatest players of all time, Lenglen won six Wimbledon titles between 1919 and 1925. But the Frenchwoman was known as much for her flamboyant dress sense as for her tennis. At a time when women tended to cover their whole bodies, her arm- and ankle-exposing outfits caused outrage, as did her tendency to sip brandy at changeovers. In 1926, on course for her seventh Wimbledon title, Lenglen unwittingly kept Queen Mary waiting in the royal box. Overcome by shame, she withdrew from the tournament and turned professional the next year.With his rock star looks and trademark cross earring, the Australian Pat Cash was always a hit with the crowds. When he won Wimbledon in 1987, he displayed a shocking disregard for All England Club protocol by clambering up through the crowd into the players' box to share the moment with his family an d girlfriend; this practice has since become almost de rigueur for first-time winners. An accomplished guitarist, Cash has jammed on stage with such musical greats as Iron Maiden and John McEnroe. He is now one of the most likable players-turned-commentator.

Before Anna Kournikova, Maria Sharapova and the other sylph-like Russians, there was the sultry Argentine Gabriela Sabatini. I was in my early teens when she arrived on the scene. Women's tennis in the 1980s had, thus far, been dominated by Martina Navratilova and Chris Evert. This was different. Sabatini never did too well at Wimbledon, reaching the final just once, in 1991, losing a thriller to Steffi Graf. But watching her was always a joy. And she drew support from the unlikeliest quarters: Clive James once wrote a poetic homage entitled "Bring me the sweat of Gabriela Sabatini".

Goran Ivanisevic



Billie Jean King



Miloslav Mecir



Standing six feet four inches, Goran Ivanisevic endeared himself to the Centre Court crowds with his missile-like serve, his untranslatable Croatian curses and his fondness for taking his top off. Who can forget his epic win over Pat Rafter in the 2001 Wimbledon final? It was a victory that admittedly got in the way of Tim Henman's best shot at the trophy (Henman lost to Ivanisevic in an agonising rain-delayed semi), but it was still a glorious moment for underdogs – Ivanisevic had entered the tournament that year on a wild card, the first player to do so and go on to lift the trophy.Billie Jean King grew up in Long Beach, California, but made a second home for herself at Wimbledon, winning 20 titles in all (if you include doubles), a record only matched by Martina Navratilova. A classical serve-and-volleyer who brought a new aggression to the female game, King has also been a tireless champion of equal prize money for women. In 1973, she took on – and beat – Bobby Riggs in the infamous "Battle of the Sexes". When news broke of Billie Jean King's close relationship with her secretary in 1981, she became the first high-profile female athlete to come out as a lesbian.A Czech who played bamboozling, cat-like tennis, Miloslav Mecir brought much-needed poetry to the game in the 1980s when power play was becoming the norm. Known as the "Swede killer" because of his success against Mats Wilander, Stefan Edberg and co, Mecir would tease opponents, manouvering them around the court before finishing them off with a deadly drop shot or outrageously angled topspin. At Wimbledon in 1988 he was sublime, narrowly losing to Edberg in the semis. He gave the impression of being terribly clever - the kind of man who reads Schopenhauer to relax.