After years of watching Wimbledon from my couch, stepping onto real grass felt… weird. Beautifully weird. Grass courts are tennis’ version of a black-tie invitation. You don’t just show up. You earn your way onto one… The court is softer. The ball stays lower. The bounce has commitment issues. And every step feels like the ground is politely asking, “Are you sure about that split step?” Suddenly, shots you’ve trusted for years start ghosting you. You stop playing on autopilot. You start listening. To the court. To your feet. To every tiny adjustment. That’s what makes grass so rewarding. It’s not the easiest surface. It’s probably the least forgiving. But when you finally time one clean forehand that skims through the court… you’ll understand why generations of champions chase that feeling. No wonder winning Wimbledon is still the crown jewel of our sport. Grass doesn’t care about your ego. Only your touch. And for my first time… I’d happily get humbled again. 🌱💚 #RallyJe...