As a Radio 4 devotee I’m completely detached from all music trends, except when something up to date gets selected for Desert Island Discs. No wonder then that I haven’t been to the O2 to see Rihanna or whoever else treads the boards these days. (I realise I sound like an octogenarian.) But on Friday I finally made it to the arena to watch tennis. I booked on line (is there any other way?) and picked my seat using the map provided. I was in Row EE. Fine. Clutching the tickets my friend and I made our way through Gate H, Level 1, Entrance 106, and hurriedly looked for our seats. We went down, and down, and down. I tried to oust someone out of his seat in Row E, assuming there was a misprint on the tickets. “No,” he assured me. “EE is at the front.” Crikey. How I managed to book the front row without realising no one will ever know but it was a wonderful surprise. We had an excellent vantage point. I did rather better than the line judge on our side, helpfully calling “Out” at various moments of high drama. We watched Doubles and then Djokovic. The crowd warmed to the battle between the two Serbs, his opponent being Tipsarevic. The world No. 1 was the loser, but the match was fantastic. And my impression of the stadium – well, it’s not Wimbledon, but for winter tennis, perfectly fine, except for the irritating TV screens announcing BREAK POINT and ACE. We’re tennis fans, we don’t need subtitles.