Final showed we have never had it so good as this
Fans must embrace this era while we can as it may never happen again, writes Daniel Schofield
Did people living in northern Italy in the 15th century truly appreciate their fortune in being able to witness the dawn of Renaissance art? Did they recognise they were living a golden age containing the unique once-ina-few centuries geniuses of Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci and Sandro Botticelli – or they did just assume that others would be along to take their place?
Maybe future generations will wonder whether we too became complacent about the exalted standards of tennis we have been privileged to witness over the past 15 years with Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic all pushing each other to ever greater heights, ably supported by Andy Murray and Stan Wawrinka. Like gluttons we have gorged ourselves without ever stopping to savour each and every mouthful, such is the scope of the banquet.
In another era, yesterday’s final between Federer and Djokovic would be considered the greatest match for all time. Instead it merely enters the conversation alongside a dozen other such momentous grand-slam finals that these three have shared. Where does this it rank? The final set at least matched the intensity of the Federer-nadal war in 2008 and no one thought that would ever be topped. If you were to assemble a shots of the match compilation it would stretch to at least an hour.
Most of those came in the final set when all logic dictates standards should have dropped in a match between a 32- and 37-year-old. Instead they rose exponentially.
To pick one of dozens of examples, let’s take the 23rd (23rd!) game of the epic fifth set. Every point was its own micro-drama, with Djokovic going 40-love up only to give up two break points after Federer winners clipped the very edge of the line. Both times the Serb fell foul of the challenge system but he held his nerve when all about him were losing theirs.
It was not just the quality of the strokes – there was a Federer sliced backhand drop shot at the start of ninth game of the fifth that seemed to defy several laws of physics – but the volume of tension. No one is going to mistake the All England Club for Millwall’s Den, but there were time when it was a veritable bear pit. All sense of tranquillity and decorum was absent in an ocean of partisanship behind Federer. If the Swiss was the bride on her wedding day, the object of everyone’s affection, then Djokovic was your cousin’s plus one; a tolerated but unwelcome presence.
When the world No1 saved two championship points at 9-8 down in the fifth, you could physically feel the collective wind being sucked out of Centre Court. The patrons did not get the result they so craved but no one deny the richness of entertainment they have received. This also coming off the back of a similarly jawdropping semi-final between Federer and Nadal on Friday. Spoilt does not even come close.
To have one such demigod in our midst is a blessing; to have three in one go is a lottery-winning ticket. Let’s consider the alternative. Take out their 54 grand-slam titles, distribute a dozen each to Murray and Wawrinka and who would you have left? Milos Raonic as an eight-time champion? Kevin Anderson and John Isner with six apiece. It barely bears thinking about. The “Big Three” have kept the big-serving barbarians at the gate. Or think back to the preceding era of Pete Sampras in which entertainment was effectively put on hiatus. Of course, the sport has changed so much with racket technology and court speed, but the “Big Three” did so much to effect that change.
Yet standards have not been universally raised. Look at the recent women’s finals at Wimbledon. Simona Halep delivered a masterclass on Saturday but it was hardly a competitive match. Indeed only one ladies’ final in the past 13 years has gone to three sets. The greatest threat to Serena Williams’ legacy – through no fault of her own – is that she never had that consistent rival needed to elevate her station into the stratosphere, other than her sister, Venus, in the early 2000s. Without a nemesis to play off, a superhero is just a vigilante in spandex with nowhere to go.
When Federer is playing at this ridiculous level a month short of his 38th birthday, it is easy to assume that he and the others can go on forever. We have been made fools of predicting his premature demise, but Father Time comes for everyone and then will come a time in the not too distant future when the “Big Three” are no more. Only then we will come to realise that we never had it so good.