Ryan Tubridy: 'Our trip to Wimbledon was in 30C heat so my Pimm's was practical'

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2 days ago

Another sweltering week in the city. I had heard rumours about how hot London can get, but as last summer was pretty tepid, I assumed the stories were exaggerated. Then came the summer of 2025, and honestly, I can't recall the last time I was so meteorically challenged by the heat in a foreign country!
Thankfully, there are plenty of trees and lots of cinemas around for this fair-skinned Irish man to hide from the heat.
There's also the quintessentially English tradition of Wimbledon that happens over the first two weeks in July every year. I've been watching this event since I was a young boy, and I love the sights and sounds of the tournament. I was weaned on the likes of John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Ivan Lendl and Boris Becker. Pic: Ray Tang/Anadolu via Getty Images
It was an era of cranky superstars and Robinson's orange cordial and linesmen/women who risked their lives as they crouched and waited for a ball to come towards them at 120mph.
That's all changed now as temperamental tennis stars are replaced by equally talented but rather dull players by comparison. The juice appears to have been replaced by Evian water, and the linespeople have completely vanished to be (mistakenly in my opinion) replaced by the Hawkeye electronic phenomenon.
For all my groaning, I was still thrilled to take the train out to Wimbledon on Thursday after the show to watch a cracking match on Centre Court. In 30-degree heat, I was more than relieved to find our seats were in the shade. Pic:I looked across the court at the spectators waving fans on their glistening faces as they marinated in their own sweat, but I wouldn't imagine they'd find too much pity from readers of this diary!
Back to the tennis and what a game it was as semi-finalists, Belarus's Aryna Sabalenka, the world number 1, battled it out with 13th seed, Amanda Anisimova of the USA. This was kind of like Rocky IV with racquets, as a Cold War was fought by proxy on the pristine grass courts.
It was whiplash all round as we tried to keep up with the speed of balls launched from both sides of the net until the American emerged victorious in a three-set thriller. Obviously, a Pimm's was had and served a practical purpose in the soaring heat, I promise.
Between matches, we wandered around the magnificent grounds, and I got a message on my Instagram account from a follower in Dublin who told me that the general manager of the grounds, John Lawler, is from Malahide and if I met him, tell Debbie to say hello.
Fifteen minutes later, we were walking along, chatting away, when a man with an Irish accent approached us and said, 'Are you okay for everything? Do you know where you're going?' We struck up a conversation and he introduced himself; 'I'm John, the general manager'. Ryan Tubridy. Pic: Nick Edwards
Well, I couldn't believe it and told him that Debbie said hello, to which he responded that he knew her well from their time at Donabate Golf Club! Such an Irish story and one that happens to me quite a lot in London.
On we went and had a lovely hour with my old friends Johnny O'Shea and his dad, John Senior, who many of you will know from his time with GOAL as a tireless champion of what he calls the Forgotten World.
We had a fascinating conversation and were joined by Peter Fleming, who was John McEnroe's doubles partner when they won Wimbledon four times between 1979 and 1984. He is the most youthful 70-year-old I've ever met, and the fact that he quaffed a jug of water as we spoke suggests why.
Johnny very kindly gifted me a copy of Irish tennis champ Conor Niland's book, The Racket, which I've heard so much about (all good) and look forward to getting my teeth into. Richard Corrigan. Pic: Steve Meddle/REX/Shutterstock
After a quick chat with James Cluskey (Richard Branson's Irish tennis coach) and a selfie with the charming McCabe family, it was time to head for the train home. It was a wonderful experience and another reason to enjoy my ongoing London adventure.
I love welcoming Irish guests to the top of the tower here at London Bridge, and it was a blast to catch up with the great Richard Corrigan this week. I've always loved my chats with Richard as he's a one-off.
His passion and commitment to Irish Produce is admirable and the way he's handling his current health travails is equally impressive. He was on to talk about his Home-grown Festival, which will happen in Cavan this October. Food, music and poetry, what's not to love?
It got too hot last week, so I ran for my favourite escape hatch in such circumstances – the cinema. One of the tremendous things about this city for a movie fan is that you can stand in Leicester Square and pick a film you haven't seen yet, and the chances are it will be available to see within 15 minutes.
I was never a Jurassic Park fan when they came out 30 years ago, but the newest one, Jurassic World Rebirth was the only new film I hadn't seen yet, so I got my popcorn and Coke and headed into one of the many cinemas on the square.
From the very start, I was mesmerised by this startling and beguiling spectacle. The effects are knockout and while the plot/acting are so-so, I just bought in completely and felt like my 11-year-old self at the Forum Cinema watching Raiders of the Lost Ark or E.T.
I don't know how it happened (maybe I was in the right frame of mind and susceptible to it), but this was a really joyful experience and reminded me (not that I need it) that the big screen is there for a reason.
Some films should never be watched on a TV/pc/phone; the full effect is irretrievably lost. If you're of my vintage and want to remember what it was like to be a child again, give it a go.