WIMBLEDON — The Wimbledon groundskeeper, Eddie Seward, was asked how the ordinary homeowner might have a lawn like the one on Centre Court.

“Simple,” Seward said. “All you need is 100 years of roots.”

Indeed.

It is possible to trace Roy Reigels’ wrong-way run in the Rose Bowl, and you can stand where Babe Ruth stood and call your home run at Wrigley Field. You can make the putt that Bobby Jones made to win the U.S. Open at Winged Foot.

But the hallowed grounds of sports are disappearing, as disposable as the witnesses and as the heroes who passed through them. Soon the spot where Ernest Byner fumbled the Broncos into a Super Bowl will be a parking spot, for limos, no doubt.

Where Bill Tilden stood to serve, now stands Pete Sampras. And where Susan Lenglen darted, now dashes Serena Williams, a teenager and one of a brace of the most fearsome forces in women’s tennis.

“To be against the green lush grass in a white dress,” gushed Williams, lapsing into the kind of imagery not inspired by many sweat sites, “it feels like home. I love it here.”

Young American Andy Roddick was allowed to debut on Centre Court, an honor he has decades to digest. Privilege, like soft food, is more welcome the older you get.

Wistfully, Chris Evert said, “It is hard to walk into Centre Court and not see yourself as you were. Until you are removed from it, you do not realize how special it all is.”

Centre Court is a place not gained by luck nor by whim, but earned. It is the old Carnegie Hall joke made British. How do you get to Centre Court?

Practice. Practice.

Wimbledon referee Alan Mills identifies the honor as “pride of place.” Boris Becker, who called Centre Court his house, so misses the place that he is threatening to return in doubles next year just to feel the muscle memory of when he was the youngest winner and England’s favorite German.

Since Becker left the place, his life has longed to reconnect as his marriage, his reputation and his sense of self have become scattered out of reach.

“Sunday afternoon, you’re in a Wimbledon final, it’s the third set, you’re about to win,” mused Becker, “this is something I miss. Even with a great business deal, it is not the same sensation. Match point and then all the celebrations.”

When Martina Navratilova left Centre Court after her last singles final she reached down and pulled up some of those 100-year-old roots.

“I still have it,” she said.

Virginia Wade identified stepping onto Centre Court as “the threshold of an irretrievable moment.” And it must be done properly.

Walk to a spot parallel with the service line, turn to the Royal Box and bow or curtsy. Pause to do the same as you exit.

You may not leave Centre Court for any reason other than nature’s call (once in three sets, twice in five). And you must take a witness with you. When Becker also did a couple minutes of stretching in the men’s toilet, he was fined $1,000.

“You can find out anything you want to know about a person by putting him on Centre Court,” said John Newcombe.

The way the grass is mowed affects the bounce of the ball. A ball hit with the grain will skid and stay low and move faster. A ball hit into the grain holds more and bounces higher.

“There’s a different echo of the ball,” said Sampras, “the way it sounds in the stadium.”

Centre Court is a devious place, according to no less than Fred Perry, the late Englishman whose statue guards the grounds.

“It looks inviting,” he warned the generations. “You feel you could walk out there and in your mind’s eye play your dream game without any problems at all. It looks comparatively small and benign.”

They have hired a hawk named Hamish to keep the pigeons away. Poison is out of the question. The natural order of things is preferred. Women are listed as “Miss” or by their married names on the scoreboard.

Because of the roof, spectators are in the shade and there are no advertising signs. This makes an ideal hitter’s background.

“I never have a problem picking the ball up,” said Andre Agassi. “But on a hot day, the English are not used to the heat and have all those fans going. So, it kind of evens out.”

“There is only one Centre Court,” Navratilova said. “I feel this place in my bones. I feel all those champions out there–dead and alive. There is no other place, no other tennis event, no other sporting event that has this kind of history.”

“I like being part of history,” Agassi said.

Parked in one corner of Centre Court is a huge, old-fashioned lawn roller. No door is large enough for it to fit through, so there it has remained, unmotorized and unremovable, still used to smooth the most honored lawn in sports.

It will be there even when Andre Agassi is not.