12. Tales of Tennis and Rakija

ATP 250 Serbia Open 2022

My mum had a drink with Barack Obama in a Serbian café. My dad won two Olympic gold medals in canoeing. I had a non-speaking role in the film “Avengers: Endgame”.

You think this is absurd? Wait until you read what the residents of Belgrade tried in order to enter the tennis venue.

Opportunities don’t come knocking at your door. They run around like little children, waiting to be caught. With this knowledge in mind, I checked the Serbia Open website for volunteer positions. When I hadn’t found any, I took matters into my own hands. I filled in the contact form and sent off an application. To my surprise, I received an email saying I could work in the accreditation office. Accreditation. A word I have read too many times.

And so, I found myself on a minibus travelling to a city I’d never been to before, to work with people I’d never met before, to do a job I’d been doing for what felt like my whole life. Pushing my limits and stepping out of my comfort zone at previous events helped prepare me for the stressful multitasking of printing and handing out badges to hundreds of people. It was all part of the deal, like salt and pepper, fish and chips, or in my case, accreditation and stressful multitasking.

Day in and day out, I along with my colleagues would ensure that everyone received their badge and hopefully never return to the accreditation office until the end of the tournament. Why? Because in the accreditation world, it means they have access to all the areas they require to fulfill their job. They don’t have to come back to adjust access rights, which would mean more work for us on top of everything else that’s going on at the same time.

Apparently, people thought we were an information desk, customer service centre, and ticket office all in one. Spectators asked for directions. VIPs complained about something. And a man told tales of having drunk a shot of rakija (a type of distilled spirit that is popular in the Balkans) with Novak Djokovic’s father. For several days he came back to tell me and my colleagues about his friendship with the athlete’s father. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the number of his “friend”, so we were supposed to call Novak’s father and arrange free tickets for the man.

We were also considered a delivery service for people leaving gifts for the multiple Grand Slam winner. Easter eggs, picture frames, and coins. Sometimes people came to the office demanding the number of the tournament director, which was Djordje Djokovic (Novak’s younger brother), claiming they needed to tell him something important. On other days, we were supposed to reunite long-lost family members and friends, as others tried the same tactic of pretending to be close to the Djokovic family to get free tickets.

Maybe I can pretend to be the long-lost cousin of Kevin Feige (film producer and president of Marvel Studios) and secure a non-speaking role in the next film, thus fulfilling my dream of appearing in the MCU universe.

Keep dreaming.