Not sure I ever have been in Paris in May. If I had, wouldn’t I have gone to the French Open at least once?

The 2012 edition begins Sunday, but the event already is under way. Sort of. With qualifying on both the men’s and women’s side, the backdoor entry for those ranked up in the 100s. Sixteen spots on the men’s side and 12 on the women’s.

I was more interested in seeing, for the first time, Roland Garros than the tennis, and we headed over to the 16th arrondissement in the afternoon today to tour the grounds. A bit of competition did not hurt, either, involving these striving fringe players.

We arrived after 3 p.m., so it cost only 10 euros to enter the grounds. (The cheap tickets for the actual tournament are 75 euros, or about $95.)

Qualifying matches were still on however, and all the concessions were open. We also blundered into some fairly close contact with a couple of prominent players — including perhaps the most prominent player in the world for the past decade.

As soon as we entered, we went looking for a match. A few thousand fans were here and there, peaking in at the lesser courts, where little-known players were banging the ball around on the famous red clay. And looking for important players getting in some practice time.

The first match we found was between the American Julia Cohen and the Swiss Stefanie Voegele. We sat in the sun, and immediately grasped how difficult the French Open must be for those on the outer courts. The air was still, and the clay was baking, and the women were sweating profusely. (As were several spectators.)

Rallies tend to be long, on clay, and players put in lots of miles, and these two had trouble closing out games. Cohen is not a big woman, and many of her returns were long, looping, soft shots … but Voegele (below) didn’t have the ability to take advantage of the soft stuff, and Cohen had a big lead in the first set when we decided it was time to get out of the very intense sun. (She won 6-3, 6-3.)

We went out a non-exit, and it took us behind the makeshift stand and over to a grassy area near an exit — and in the shade.

We cooled under a few trees, while sitting on a wall, and after a few minutes it became clear that players were entering and exiting the grounds through the gate about 10 feet from where we were sitting.

Numerous very fit little young guys went out, and so did a few women, and others were coming in with an entourage — a coach, probably a practice partner. Finally, we confirmed that those were players when a guy who looked a lot like Andy Murray came in, and stood a few feet away, probably waiting for his practice court to clear.

It was, in fact, Andy Murray, and a few fans walked up to him and had their pictures taken with him. It’s been a few years since I saw Murray in person, and three things struck me: He must have the heaviest legs of any player on the tour; he probably should consider a “whitening” toothpaste; and he is a big guy. He towered over his coach and practice partner.

Maybe 10 minutes later, a dozen people came towards us, and I recognized the slender man in the middle as Roger Federer. He was being asked for autographs and photos as he kept moving along, a smile on his familiar face.

In the photo, above, he has turned to speak to a kid who had asked him a question. He seemed to be speaking French. For the umpteenth time, I reflected on the demands on individual sports stars. Have to be polite all the time. It must be exhausting.

We wandered over to court 16, I believe it was, and went into the stands for a bit because the young American Coco Vandeweghe was playing, and I at least have heard of her. She is the niece of Kiki Vandeweghe, and the granddaughter of a former Miss America, and I just thought I would sit and watch her for a bit.

Her opponent was Yaroslava Shvedova, a big and vaguely menacing (black skirt, black shoes, sunglasses) woman of Russian parentage who represents Kazakhstan.

This match was thoroughly different than the pit-a-pat of Cohen v Voegele. These two are big women, and they were hitting it hard, and Vandweghe struck me as a player who could be a contender — if she could keep the ball in play. Most of the time, she did not, and she was trailing badly when we left, and eventually lost 6-1, 6-2.

This will not come as news to anyone, but Coco Vandeweghe could do well to lose 10 pounds. Maybe more. She may have been in pretty good physical condition, but her weight has to hurt her quickness and mobility. Shvedova is no small person, but she did not seem to be carrying around more pounds than she ought to.

We stopped for ice cream (to cool off, and personally ignore the notion of “too much weight”) … and then walked over to the main court, or as close as we could get to it, with our 10-euro tickets.

One more stop, on the way out, and the guy getting ready to hit was David Ferrer, who is a demon on clay (and might have won the French a time or two, if Rafael Nadal did not exist). You do not want to get into a war of attrition on clay with that guy. A small guy, all muscle and sinew, perhaps the fittest man on the ATP tour.

I decided, back at the Abu Dhabi championships, that I like David Ferrer — because he reads books. That is unusual among professional athletes.

So, a couple of hours at Roland Garros, and we saw the world No. 2 (Federer) and No. 4 (Murray) and No. 6 (Ferrer), and they were within a few feet of us. One of us was impressed by that.

We considered the paraphernalia stand on the way out, but caps were 20 euros and the really cool “French Open Qualifying 2012” shirt was 30 euros, and I decided I didn’t need one that badly.

I am glad we went. Now I can picture Roland Garros in my mind, and how tight a space it is, and how hot it is when the sun is out, and how old the two main stadiums look … and how expensive it is. If I had a media credential, I’d go back.

Click here to see more photos.