Wimbledon 2018, the sacred, sacred place for tennis, has just ended. Novak Djokovic regained the crown he last won in 2015. But the final was overshadowed by the previous Friday /Saturday semis.
On Friday afternoon, we witnessed a nail-biting marathon game of six hours and 35 minutes between South African Kevin Anderson and American John Isner (picture). It was the longest semi-final in the history of Wimbledon.
This was followed by an equally marathon duel, the 52nd epic meeting between tennis titans Rafael Nadal, the greatest fighter ever to play this game with a sledgehammer serve, and Novak Djokovic, the master baseliner, over two days and more than five hours of brutal power game.
It had to be cut short at 11pm on Friday for play to be resumed on Saturday afternoon with the roof shut, since a bizarre All England Club rule states that a game must resume under the same conditions. The second longest semi-final in history took place on a baking hot day – 27°C.
I am sure all tennis followers realise, more than ever, that all the top players rely upon powerful serves of about 139mph, which the opponents are not expected to return and have to resort to moving around the court at an alarming speed to try to hit the ball at all costs.
Winning a match by smashing serves, as is the order of the game, does not always reflect that a player is better than the opponent. Records show that in the epic game between Anderson and Isner there were 102 thunderbolt aces.
Also, the two-handed racket use, unknown during my playing days, has meant the elegance of the game has been lost.
Like all sports, tennis has become wilder and brutal.
As a tennis enthusiast I feel the time has come to rename the sports game of tennis and call it baseball.