The apocalypse may not be upon merry old Wimbledon just yet, but there are signs: This year, some of the gentlemen are wearing sleeveless shirts, of all unspeakable garments -- an offense to sartorial standards unthinkable in Don Budge's day, or even in John McEnroe's. There's been a distressing row over prize money, resulting in the suggestion of a male players' boycott. Meanwhile, a most irregular new advertising campaign portrays the ladies on the professional tour not as rose-scented dainties on their way to high tea, but as hard-charging athletes equipped with fierce minds and real muscles, who will gladly trample any garden en route to the... More >>>