All right, I hate to be a buzz kill, and I'm taking just as much pleasure as you in watching Andy Roddick burn holes in Wimbledon turf what his serve. But with all due respect to legions of my friends and colleagues, I've got to go on the record here as hating the standard, casual diminutives assigned to Wimbledon. The Big W ... Ugh! Wimby ... Barfola! Somebody shoot me if you ever hear those words pass my lips.

The problem appears to be that there isn't a decent derivative of the noun "Wimbledon," and even the All-England Club's favored synonym, The Championships is laughable. Oh -- The Championships. My, my, ain't we grand? As a synonym, The Championships presumably is meant to have some sort of pre-emptive, frosty majesty. Instead, it tempts me to pull aside Tim Phillips (who by all accounts is a good guy, although that's never been known to stop me before) and whisper, Timmy -- how 'bout you folks gently extract that iron rod you've got jammed about 240 yards up your butts?

Wimbledon. Not only is it a mouthful, it's a speech impediment of a word.

Actually, the root of this "What can we call it, besides Wimbledon?" problem isn't in the AEC; it isn't the club's fault that that tournament, like the U.S. Open back when it was played in the Queens borough of Forest Hills (and to a lesser degree, like the Australian Open when it was at Kooyong), is named for the town in which it is played. But while Forest Hills exudes a pleasant bucolic vibe, and the very word "Kooyong" makes you want to jump up and blow a few times into a didgeroo,  the name "Wimbledon" is, as a Brit might say, hopelessly twee.

This deep association of a word so intrinsically lame with the most important tennis tournament of the year doesn't do the game a lot of good in the titanic struggle to convince people that white shorts are just a slightly more formal version of the loin cloth, or that Sharapova is really the tribal name of a leggy Amazonian goddess who hurls an atlatl with the best of them.

Wimbledon. Savor the word. What could it be used to describe, if that well-heeled suburb of London didn't exist? Some sort of lace doily? A fairy kingdom created by Britain's favorite spinster novelist? The device used to fasten your umbrella to the handlebars on our bicycle?

Excuse me, sir, I believe your Wimbledon has slipped ...

Bet you didn't think a "Wimbledon" might be a good name for ... The type of knot most commonly used to hang serfs caught poaching on land awarded by British kings to other members of the nobility.

Wimbledon. It's a cursed word.

Now admit it, wouldn't everyone be better off if the de facto British Open of tennis were played in a town named, oh,  Wolf Hollow?  Or if the All-England Club had been formed somewhere in leafy Wiltshire, perhaps in the town of Amesbury? Imagine the testosterone factor in being able to say, of your favorite pirata or cardigan-wearing hero: Wow, did you see how Rafa just crushed the field at Wolf Hollow? Or, Man, that Roger -- dude just owns Stonehenge ... Who needs Henman Hill, anyway?

Hail, compared to "Wimbledon", even Betty Hill would have a certain amount of heft.

There is, of course, an easy solution to all this: The AEC must pack up and move, before they go through all the trouble of installing that retractable roof. I like the idea of Amesbury/Stonehenge, but I'm also open to Wolverhampton (it has a certain predatory ring ...), Blackpool (enough with this relentless focus on white!), Stoke-on-Trent (I can already see the commemorative statue of Jimmy Connors, doing his fist-pump schtick), Coventry (loads of ghastly "bomb" cliches for the sportswriters to weave)) or Milton Keynes (the weirdness factor is just too tempting to pass up).

Of course, knowing tennis, the AEC would opt for Oxford (hey, the world will know that it's the thinking man's sport!),  Newport (okay, you bloody yanks, Who's your daddy?), Oldham (we're so-o-o-o-o into tradition ...) or Dudley (need I explain?).

Alternatively, Wimbledon could change it's name, while retaining its street names and postal code. How about Studland? Thug City?  Kahunaville?

If the club, the Wimbledon city fathers, or both saw the light of reason here, it would solve another major source of grievance for me at this time of year.

Nobody would call it "Wimbleton" anymore.

For more from Tennis World or to comment, visit Peter's blog. For All Things Tennis, All the Time, visit Tennis.com.

MORE FROM TENNIS

Tennis Section Front

Focus on the man Agassi has become   Andre Agassi: ‘I was depressed’   Live vote: Should Agassi return his titles and money?   Federer loses in second round of Paris Masters Safin bids farewell to tennis in Paris Gasquet gives cocaine-kiss evidence to CAS hearing   Video: Djokovic or del Potro will win ATP finale   Video: Nadal honored by French officials Interactive: Creating the perfect tennis player ATP, WTA scores, schedules Tennis Section Front   Add Tennis headlines to your news reader: