Back in 2017, when I watched Roger Federer take on Marin Cilic in the men’s singles final at Wimbledon, someone pointed out a figure high in the Centre Court stands opposite the press box. Actually, it was hard to miss him.
Dressed in a red T-shirt with the logo “I Love Roger” splurged across the chest, up on his feet yelling in triumph whenever Federer won a point, slouching in his seat despondently whenever Cilic did, here was an individual making sure everyone knew he was living every shot.
This was look-at-me partisanship writ large. And as he bellowed and bawled, engaging in relentless arm-flailing gesticulation, his identity quickly became obvious. It was John Bercow, then the speaker of the House of Commons and a man whose professional life was meant to be the very definition of impartiality. Yet here he was, No 1 Federer fan, so one-sided in his vision that he theatrically sank to his knees in tears of delight when his hero won the match to claim what was to be the last of his record-setting eight Wimbledon titles.
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