Wimbledon Stadium

Things to do Summerstown
  • 4 out of 5 stars
(3user reviews)
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The famous greyhound racing stadium with restaurants, bars, private boxes and corporate packages. Races take place every Friday and Saturday evening.


Venue name: Wimbledon Stadium
Address: Plough Lane
SW17 0BL
Transport: Tube: Tooting Broadway tube/Earlsfield rail/44, 270, 272 bus
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5 / 5

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Kateryna V

A cross-section of London. Families sporting their Sunday best clothes despite this being Saturday (by the way, research suggests wearing Sunday best tradition would be gone within a generation). Working class men with weather-beaten and alcohol-flushed faces (their fathers used to come to the dogs and so have they for the 50 or so years). Old school bookies wearing beige Macs and flat caps, tallying numbers in their head, keeping cash in even more old school doctor bags (the one I talked to and who photobombed my selfie was 77 and that was his whole career spent right there on the tracks, now gone with the wind). Even a few orange-hued TOWIE look-alikes, struggling around in fake Louboutins. Greyhounds with names seemingly coming from a random word generator (Fweshfromthesesh, Data Storm, Holdem Rio), owned by so very gangsta-sounding Massachusetts Syndicate or West Berkshire Boys or such like. The worst of the worst booze you can possibly get - WKD and Hooch - free-flowing at the bar. The glorious slang that we picked up straight away ('Number 2 to win!') and much more that still remained gibberish. Excitement and intoxication. Rivalry but also chivalry. That's what Wimbledon Stadium dogs racing was like on Saturday. And now it's gone forever. A quintessential British pastime is no more. Shame on us. I wish I loved the dogs earlier. 

P.S.: please don't arrogantly comment on the cruelty of the sport, unless you eat no meat, poultry and eggs and wear no leather shoes.

Laura S

Nothing can justify the amount of suffering & death on & off the track that these greyhounds endure - it's a dilapidated death trap for dogs 


Wow. I love dogs. I love new, strange experiences. I secretly love gambling. I love people watching. And cheap beer too. Combine all these elements and one foggy night in Wimbledon and you've got yourself a perfect Saturday evening. Even though I had no clue about how the betting worked, couldn't even see the dogs go (fast... so fast) and lost all my money by just betting on the funniest names (Swift Mayo, Office Hazard, etc.), it was an amazing adventure I must say. Muzzle tov!