For tennis fans, for sports fans, for fans of drama and skill and guts, what great luck that the Taj Mahal of tennis would produce a second straight match-for-the-ages in the men's final at the All England Club.
We thought we'd seen it all last year, a marathon finished in darkness, the Swiss king finished off by a Spanish prince, 9-7 in the fifth set.
Rafael Nadal didn't show for this year's title defense, sidelined by knee tendinitis, and in his absence everyone figured Roger Federer would walk off with the crown without even suffering a bruise.
This was the thinking, the smart money, the safe bet, even as Andy Roddick began his steady climb at this latest Wimbledon. When the tall and rangy American beat British hope Andy Murray in Friday's semifinal, a momentous upset, there remained little doubt: Come the final, he would wilt against greatness. Didn't Roddick have just two wins in 20 matches against Federer?
This, we now know, was the same old Roger -- rock solid, with a magician's panache. Steady as a metronome. It was his seventh straight Wimbledon final, his 20th Grand Slam final, all since 2003. He'd just won his record-tying 14th Grand Slam title in Paris. Now he was going for the all-time record.
But a different Andy Roddick showed up.
It was Roddick who made this match happen, Roddick who forced the tension and the steady surge of emotion. His game sizzled with half-volley winners, forehand blasts, backhands and serves that touched chalk and went dipping, diving and dancing -- unreturnable.
Roddick brought his own magic for five unforgiving, unforgettable sets. We know about his bad luck. The tense, missed volley in the second set tiebreaker. The break points lost late in the match. We also know about the good fortune he diligently produced -- from the opening stroke, when bright light filled the game's greatest stage, to the last point, when shadows fell once again on Centre Court.
That serve, what'd it average, 130 mph each time he toed the line? That's how it seemed. Roddick was Nolan Ryan at the top of his game. But he also moved like Sugar Ray Leonard, and counter-punched like him too.
There was a moment, there were many moments, when it seemed as if he would produce what would have been the most stunning upset at a Wimbledon final since Arthur Ashe beat Jimmy Connors in 1975.
