In my last remarks, I talked about what I considered to be the THREE major stories form this year’s Wimbledon. Now, in my next two entries, I want to go into a bit more depth about two of them.
First, as I watched nearly all 11 hours of the Isner-Mahut marathon (I think they, the umpire, and I were perhaps the only ones to see at least 10 hours of it!), I couldn’t help but gain tremendous respect for both men. I was rooting passionately for Isner, both because he is an American, AND (most importantly of course!) also because I had picked him that day in our suicide pool (you must pick a different man every day whom you think will win—a great idea that I suggest for all tennis fans—thanks Shane!). Isner’s victory on day three of the epic ended up sending me on to be co-winner of the pool, by the way. Yes!
But, as the games, hours, and days rolled by, a startling realization came to me: these guys were playing for more than merely my win in the pool, they were playing for pride, and I was in utter disbelief of what I was witnessing. It almost felt like a dream to me (I can imagine how delirious both of them were!). The fact that both players could continue to get up game after game and serve that big just didn’t seem possible. The fact that by the end Isner was serving with essentially no legs and still putting enough on the ball to slap winners was unbelievable. The fact that neither one cramped enough to make them stop or simply quit was INSANE.
I was absolutely stunned when Isner wanted to continue at the end of day two (perhaps, understandably, he had lost the ability to think). I was just as flabbergasted when Mahut wanted to stop because of darkness. What was he thinking. I mean.. REALLY? At that stage Mahut was way fresher, Isner had absolutely nothing in the tank, and I believe Mahut was about to break the NEXT game. But, man, was I happy when the umpire and tournament head called it. Later, I believe John will know what a break he got. I know I thought of that when I collected my winnings☺
By the way, I find it funny that Isner only won one match and did not get as far as his seeding predicted he should have, but had his greatest tournament ever. It earned him a lot more respect (and money I would guess) than losing in the round of 32 would have.
As I watched Mahut and got more and more frustrated at this Frenchmen with annoying hair as he continued to hold game after game and his ace tally neared 100, I couldn’t help but wonder: WHO THE HELL IS THIS GUY AND WHERE HAS HE BEEN? I wanted to throw my damn computer out the window (yes, suicide pools do make you feel like you are really playing the match with them). He was not only serving mammoth, but backing it up with great groundies and making it look easy. He also seemed fresh as could be, which made me even more irate! It just shows to me how great and deep the men’s game is and how tough it is to go far in a major.
But as both men continued to battle and leave their hearts and souls on the court, I was glad day three did not end quickly. What a shame it would have been for them to walk out on the court, and have one guy break and the match be over in 5 minutes. How much would it have changed the drama and celebration if they had played 10 points and walked off? At least they got a good hour into it and the drama and tension had an opportunity to be born again and even escalate. I was hoping Isner’s reaction would be as passionate as it was, despite the fact that it was merely a first round match.
But this was NOT merely a first round match. This was WAY WAY more.
I was also thrilled that they decided to keep Mahut on the court (he probably wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of there and into an ice tank!), and honor both with a ceremony. That match and both of them deserved to be treasured and savored. What class, determination, resilience, focus, and heroism both men showed.
I will never witness another match like it as long as I live.
It’s the kind of event that makes you want to sit down and write a blog about tennis.
AD OUT…
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