To someone who cares more about the preservation of Bach’s original manuscripts than what sporty skirt each Williams sister is wearing, tennis is not awe-inspiring in the least.

Watching it on TV would seem worse. The incessant bouncing of that tennis ball boosts the sale of Advil across the world. But, shockingly, not during Wimbledon.

When Rafael Nadal met Roger Federer on the court for the nail-biting men’s final on July 6, there was nothing to yawn at.

Things like sets and matches — sets in matches? Matches in sets? You play to what? And scoring — love, 15, 30, 35? No, 40? What?— were surpassed by the riveting battle between two tennis greats.

Meet Nadal — young and spirited, the first man in years to challenge Federer in any way, beating him thoroughly at the French Open this year.

Also, most notable to the fashion-conscious sports fiend, he opts to forego the traditional tennis short and wears long white capris that must be uncomfortable based on how much he picks at them.

Federer has been reigning tennis for years. An upstanding Swiss, he has brought class to tennis. To win this year would have meant a record for him.

To choose between a legend and a prodigy is no easy feat, but when the game picked up and the players began to fight for the title, loyalties were quickly clear.

Nadal opened strongly, and for a brief moment, it looked as though he would again beat Federer quickly. Then Federer seemed to find his groove, and the game got exciting.

Both Nadal and Federer showed incredible talent. From slicing serves to behind-the-back hits, it seemed neither could out-do the other.
Nadal owned his half of the court. Federer simply could not hit the ball anywhere where Nadal wouldn’t get to it.

A rain delay shoved fans nervously on edge for a couple hours. Nails that had remained unbitten were anxiously chewed down as a hum of tense speculation on who would take the Wimbledon cup swept the spectators.

When Nadal and Federer returned, their game was even closer than before.

People everywhere were clawing into the arms of their recliner sofas, and the usual polite tennis fans were in an uproar. They covered their eyes and peeked through their fingers every time a player served, gasping and yelling when a player finally scored.

Nadal would win a set. Federer would win the next. No one was pulling ahead enough to win.

Nearing the end, the youngster Nadal seemed to crumble under the immense pressure when his serves didn’t manage to make it over the net. Federer seemed to be showing his experience with steel nerves.

The game was the longest-ever Wimbledon men’s final.

Finally, Nadal won his fourth match point with a mighty serve, and Federer lost it with a forehand into the net. Nadal fell face down on the court with his arms out in victory.

So, what is tennis? On that Sunday, it proved to be an electrifying show of sheer talent. Thank you, Nadal and Federer, for putting the thrill back into a gentleman’s sport.

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