When Boris Becker appeared at Wimbledon in his heyday, the scoreboard read: "Boris Becker v." and then the name of his opponent.

Fifteen kilometers north-east of Center Court, where the youngest winner in the tournament's history collected his trophy three times, the boy wonder of yore is now fighting a match against another opponent.

In Southwark Assize Court on the south bank of the Thames, the criminal case against him, which is coming to an end after two and a half weeks, is being called “The Queen v.

Boris Franz Becker".

Gina Thomas

Features correspondent based in London.

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Among other things, it is about two Wimbledon trophies that the tennis legend, who was declared bankrupt in 2017 (along with real estate, other assets and debts), is said to have kept secret from the insolvency administrators.

Becker claims not to know what happened to the two trophies.

That sounds a little more plausible when, under cross-examination, he points out that the trophies that the winner gets to take home are miniature replicas.

The public prosecutor's office does not want to believe that these trophies have been lost or that he is ignorant of his financial affairs.

The jury, reduced to eleven - ten men and just one woman - must decide whether Becker is in fact a clueless mess who can't handle money, as the defense argues.

Becker's casual demeanor is in the past

When Becker was on trial in Munich for tax evasion in 2013, the media reported that the accused appeared “decidedly casual”.

This self-confidence has evaporated, as has the immense wealth.

In the worst case, Becker faces seven years in prison.

Except when taking the witness stand, he sits in a glass case at one end of the office-like room, facing the judge seated at the other end.

In between the judiciary.

The members of the jury are on Becker's left and his partner on the right, who accompanies him every day.

Since Tuesday, his son Noah has also been helping with a grim expression.

When searching for WLAN, "Noah Becker's German Phone" appears on the screen.

Only the royal coat of arms with the motto "Dieu et mon droit" and the traditional robes and wigs of the judge and lawyer evoke a touch of the atmosphere that one knows from British court films.

There is nothing about the nondescript, purpose-built building from the early 1980s to indicate that Southwark Crown Court is the main court for serious fraud.

The worn interior is more reminiscent of a welfare office, with the same deficiencies in cleanliness as an English railway carriage at the end of a long day's commute.

Despite the request from the audience to speak into the microphone, the judge's voice in her long summary is so quiet and soporific that one might think she runs counter to the principle of open justice.

The reporters on the back bench, largely made up of representatives of the German media, can often only guess the meaning from scraps of words.

The media remain on hold in front of the hall while the verdict is being reached.

In between, other cases are treated like in the assembly line process.

Amidst the comings and goings, within earshot of the journalists, a lawyer advises a cowed defendant to plead guilty.

In court, Boris Becker is assisted by a translator, whose services he has hardly ever used, and a judicial clerk.

Deep bags under his eyes, a reddish, bloated face and a stiff gait caused by knee and ankle problems make him look much older than his 54 years.

Even from behind, you can tell Becker is tense as he follows the process with concentration, as if he were finding out for the first time from the legal explanations how things went that he doesn't want to have bothered with, such as debt restructuring, transfers and the like were made in his name.

Occasionally he reaches for the files on the floor next to his chair.

During the interrogation, Becker confessed how ashamed he was of his bankruptcy.

He accused the media

to have devalued his image and thereby impaired his earning capacity.

The lost trophies, which Boris Becker once gave everything to win, are a suitable symbol for this bourgeois tragedy.