Roger Federer’s grass court play is gloriously precise – just like the Wimbledon grass that gets an 8 mm trim every day. In the last few years however, his creaking body has been showing signs of fatigue. It’s painful to watch genius slowly capitulate before our eyes, much akin to a great painter falter with his brush-strokes. That he is the last remaining patron of that incredibly lithe and artistic ritual – the serve and volley – is perhaps, the reason why the lawns need him more than anyone else. At a Wimbledon press conference yesterday, when asked about his injured back, Federer said: ‘My back is better. It’s won me 88 titles for all its worth!’ So, was it coincidence that London’s teary skies opened up after that?
Maybe.
So, here’s what I would say to the naysayers. Before you write his epitaph, lend your ears to that man on the microphone, who in his clipped British accent says: Quiet please, thank you!
