First published in the Daily Maverick 168 weekly newspaper.

The tennis world is abuzz and somehow things seem sort of normal again.

Sure, the pandemic is not over. We’re in another Level 4 lockdown and the more things change the more they stay the same. But when was the last time you allowed yourself to imagine feeling the short, soft, green grass beneath your feet? When is the last time you left the sofa during a rain delay to dish up a bowl of strawberries and cream? And when was the last time you stared at the white lines on the court feeling nostalgic for a time when they were made of chalk that flew up instead of titanium paint? In June of 2019. That’s when.

Last year, Wimbledon was cancelled because of Covid-19 and this year it’s back. And not only that, it is back with a crowd, with a hum of excitement and anticipation and in some cases a deep, deep gratitude because for two weeks we can all pretend that things are normal and as they should be and the world is fine, sort of. And Wimbledon is exactly what we need right now. Just to be clear, Covid-19 never left, it is still with us as well. Which is all the more reason to get excited about Wimbeldon’s return.

When even the littlest form of normality returns to a calendar year everything else becomes a little bit more bearable. In fact, the mundane becomes a joy. That scary trip across the road to the grocery store, where you’re paranoid that someone might breathe too hard in their masks, is a forgivable and almost forgettable sin, because you’re going home to be normal again.

Instead of snarling at people who mistakenly bump into you on the street, you smile and apologise, because Wimbledon is back. And suddenly something, just one thing, is okay again. Perhaps it’s a chance to hope that if the green grass courts of Wimbledon are back then maybe other forms of normality are not too far away either. There is hope – or at least reason to hope. And, failing all that, we can at least spend the next two weeks drifting off into a world that used to be.

A world in which numbers mean something more than deaths per week, levels of lockdown, new contracted cases, the number of vaccine roll-outs or the number of variants. A world in which you can ask: “Did you catch that yesterday?” In which “catch” and “that” do not refer to life-threatening viruses but rather awesome service games, on-court tantrums and seemingly unfair time violations or, like earlier this week, a great suspicion of the safety of the ground on centre court after two players had to retire because of similar injuries on the same surface – one of them Serena Williams. Very hard to watch. I am still crying as I write this.

But, still, behind those tears, I am all smiles because I can say stuff out loud like: “That was fun!” Or, “I can’t wait.” And really, really mean it. It feels so good to really mean anything at all.

I would love to be one of those people who has been absorbed into the system of news and data, and who cannot live my life without constantly knowing more than the person next to me about the world and how it’s dying and how we’re all dying with it. (Actually, I would hate it. I hate these people.) But really, beyond the “it’s all going to end and we’re going to end with it” part, what really is there to be interested in? So why not take a time out from the dreariness of life, shovel strawberries and cream down your throat, and pretend that everything is as fine as it can be because, really, it is?

It feels good not to think about the next wave and only to think about the next round.

The mecca of tennis has returned and, tennis fan or not, I urge you all to bow your heads and make the metaphorical pilgrimage. Kick your shoes off. Walk on the grass and splash in the puddles while wearing all white. DM168

This irreverent respite is brought to you by author, journalist and podcast producer Haji Mohamed Dawjee.

This story first appeared in our weekly Daily Maverick 168 newspaper which is available for free to Pick n Pay Smart Shoppers at these Pick n Pay stores.