In defence of Lewis Hamilton? Sorry, there's NO defence of Lewis Hamilton

Last Sunday, Lewis Hamilton was turned away from Wimbledon's Royal Box for the men's final, on the basis that he wasn't wearing the required jacket and tie, and was in a pair of trainers.

It caused a bit of an outcry, and nobody was more bothered by it than Oliver Brown, chief sports feature writer of the Daily Telegraph.

"They slung him out, and we arrived at this absurd scenario in which our most popular sports star was ostracised for his minor deviation from conformity... [the tournament] is the worst platform for our petty, exclusionary behaviour and our love of saying ‘No’," Brown wrote.

"It is the arbitrary pomposity that grates the most, the bizarre assumption that Bradley Cooper (who has never won an Oscar) would be a fitting addition to the royal box, while Kate Winslet (who has) is left to slum it with the regular punters...

"Hamilton is the most unfortunate victim yet of such warped standards. His accomplishment in becoming Britain’s first multiple Formula One world champion since Sir Jackie Stewart counted for nothing against his heinous sin of not donning a tie. His exile at Wimbledon was a reflection of the unfettered snobbery that governs our sporting summer."

Brown also points to the fact that Australian model Elle MacPherseon was not told to change when meeting the Queen in 2011 while wearing "a number so slinky and revealing that it left the Duke of Edinburgh agog." That left the headline writers free to post his article beneath this marvellous line: "Hamilton's Royal Box snub proves Wimbledon is more draconian than Buckingham Palace."

As much as we'd love to thump the tub and shout our agreement what he writes, none of it adds up.

Sure, the rule about having to wear a jacket and tie is absurd, small-minded, naive, ridiculous and parochial.

But there is a huge amount about Wimbledon - almost EVERYTHING about Wimbledon in fact - which shares those exact attributes, and yet is all the better for it.

It is naive that the tournament reserves hundreds of tickets every day (barring the very last few singles matches) for fans who love the game so much that they queue up overnight. It's equally absurd that they police that queue so beautifully that it works, flawlessly, every year.

It's small-minded of them not to plaster the arenas in advertising. How frustrating must it be for the club's commercial director trying to rustle up more cash (as his or her job description no doubt demands) when the "stuffed blazers" who run the club harumph, titter, and say no, thank you very much, no advertising please.

It's ridiculous that they insist a hefty bowl of strawberries and cream costs no more than £2.50, the price frozen for a decade despite the fact that fans would no doubt pay double.

It's absurd that they still persist with a proper doubles tournament, playing five-set matches for the men's event, keeping the mixed doubles going and so on, despite the fact that nobody watches them on TV and they are only there to give fans on the ground a better experience.

Yet all these things are part of what make the tournament so absolutely magnificent - and almost unique in sport. Few events are run on such a marvellously old-fashioned basis - the Masters golf tournament in Augusta, perhaps, or Test cricket.

So while it's a shame that one of our great sporting figures was denied entry for a minor infraction, to have changed those rules would change the entire ethos of the tournament. And it's that ethos which stops them charging so much for on-the-day tickets there's no queue to worry about, which keeps the main arena pure and beautiful, which ensures that the fans who pay a lot for their day out have the best possible time once they're through the gates.

You want guys in the Royal Box in crazy floral shirts? No probs. But don't come crying to me when strawberries and cream costs a fiver, those daily fans' tickets are sold off to the highest bidder, and Centre Court is festooned with a giant 'Sponsored by Donnay' banner. And should Wimbledon ever go that way, then it won't be long before you can also enjoy watching players wearing punk band t-shirts at snooker's World Championship, don jeans at golf's major championships and take to the Grand Slam tennis courts wearing more logos than an F1 car.

Oh, and two last things to put straight: first, Hamilton was offered a borrowed jacket, tie and shoes and told to come on in, but decided that his precious image was too important to risk being tarnished by a public appearance in clothes not sanctioned by his image consultants.

And secondly - that Elle MacPherson dress? From Brown's description you'd think it was the sort of gear that Kim Kardashian would use to break the internet. A quick trawl of the web shows that actually, the gracefully-ageing supermodel looked both fantastic and utterly, utterly decent. Which is a string of adjectives that could equally be applied to Wimbledon as a whole.