Almost always, tennis is a niche sport, something watched by the general public if the garbage has been taken out and the ironing is done.
Then, every so often, there comes a perfect storm. It happened Sunday, in the cathedral of the sport, Centre Court at Wimbledon, when typhoon Roger Federer met cyclone Rafael Nadal.
Even for those who don't know a backhand from a backbite, what transpired was mesmerizing.
That Nadal beat Federer for the men's singles title was only part of the story. So were all the statistics, including the end of Federer's five-year reign as champion, the end of his 65-match win streak on grass, the end of his winning streak at Wimbledon at 40 matches.
Even the final score, the 6-4, 6-4, 6-7 (5), 6-7 (8), 9-7 that looked to the layman more like an algebra equation than a sports result, could only hint at what really took place.
This was athletic competition on the highest level. And nothing else. Two of the greatest tennis players ever, not to mention athletes, competed against each other for nearly five hours and the story was as much what didn't happen as what did.
Nobody got hurt.
Nadal, who gave Spain its first Wimbledon men's title since 1966, tweaked a knee early in the match, shrugged it off and kept whacking shots at Federer. This was six hours of Tiger Woods in the U.S. Open, minus the limp.
Nobody wimped out, backed down, made excuses, took potty breaks, tried gamesmanship, yelled at the umpire, blamed the camera that calls the lines or whimpered about the three rain delays. They just played, hitting shots like we may never see again, under pressure neither may ever feel again, with stakes the highest they play for in this sport.
And when it was over, when the greatest forehand in the history of the game let Federer down on match point and settled into the net, the five-time king praised the new kid on the throne as a worthy champion and the new kid was properly deferential to the replaced royalty.
Which is not only refreshing, in this era of me-only sports stars and Egos-R-Us pro athletes, but it is how it ought to be.
Think of all the events you have watched recently and try to remember when you saw this great a competition in sports and this much great sportsmanship.
The former antithesis of such things, now-grown-up broadcaster John McEnroe, led us through the match with his credible appreciation of the greatness he was witnessing. He used the word "unbelievable" at least a dozen times, and for once, that did not seem to be overdone hyperbole.
