By the stage of the fifth set, the match, for me at least, had already gone beyond the sphere of winning and losing. Both men had already both won and lost. Federer’s fight-back was a magnificent achievement. It came down, in the end, not so much to the particular niceties of tennis, as to sheer hunger and will power; even beyond that, to natural changes in the order of things. Perhaps the hunger and will of the young pretender will always, at a certain point, be stronger than that of the established champion. The grip of the strongest must at last be loosened. Two equally valid, opposite principles, the hardness of muscle and steely will, and the elusive spirit of pure poetry, had been set against each other and had fought it out not to the extinction of either. Perhaps it was always likely that in such gusty, gloomy conditions the style of play that relies on the smallest margin of error, Federer’s, would not prevail against the relentless assault of heavy top-spin. The broadsword beats the rapier. But the rapier’s finest thrusts live longer in the memory.
Harry Eyres, Wimbledon 2008

roger federer federer tennis harry eyres wimbledon