What is Wimbledon without the rain? This year, the rain gods decided to play a particularly central and dramatic role in proceedings. Partly as a result of the protracted semi-final that took three days to complete and left the United Kingdom mourning the end of British presence in the tournament, the men’s final was scheduled to take place on the third Monday of the tournament. This was only the third time in the tournament’s history that such an event had ever happened. Significantly, this resulted in 10,000 final match Centre Court tickets going up for grabs on the preceding day. Long, serpentine queues of tennis fans, who would have otherwise never hoped to get a look-in, spent a night in advance outside the ticket booths, and the final Wimbledon crowd ended up being a much more diverse and voluble one than normal. The usual blazers, ties, hats and all-round stifling politeness was replaced with war-paint, red-checked and blue-green outfits, and rowdy cries of “Go-ran!” and “Pat-rick!”. The crowd atmosphere was in place for the finale.
With this kind of build-up, the match had all the makings of a classic even before it started. And when the players began to trade unreturnable serves and breathtaking volleys, the intensity of the match shot right up. Ivanisevic began in the comfortable groove he had established over the fortnight, and pounded down his customary basket of aces to take the first set. But Rafter came back strongly, with deft touches at the net, to level the match at one-set all. As the contest progressed, the level of play came down slightly, replaced with two players running on emotion and intensity, and thus, more prone to errors amidst the occasional stroke of genius. But the vociferous crowd, with an equal sprinkling of Aussie and Croat supporters and a British majority who rooted for both sentimental favourites equally, did not seem to mind at all. Towards the fag end of the fourth set, Ivanisevic’s temperamental side began to make an appearance. A foot fault followed by a close line-call on his serve riled him, and he ended up spontaneously kicking the net in frustration followed by a long, heartfelt discussion with the chair umpire. Not surprisingly, he lost the fourth set to tie the match at two-sets apiece.
Now this was the typical moment when Ivanisevic mentally packed up in a tennis match and proceeded to lose it, but then again, this was no ‘typical’ tennis match. Contrary to expectations, and seemingly guided by the invisible hand of destiny, he stayed toe-to-toe with Rafter across a breathless fifth set. As they moved deep into the set beyond the 6-6 mark, their games became more erratic, and Ivanisevic was visibly riding on pure emotion. His first serve deserted him, he became even more animated with himself, and the crowd was now a solid roar after every point. Inspite of it all, the Croat managed to break Rafter in the 15th game of the set, and now had the opportunity on his racquet to serve out ten years of disappointment.
And he double faulted. Visibly shaking and looking up to send earnest prayers , he got to Championship point again. And double faulted again. On his third attempt, Rafter sent a brilliantly placed lob above the the Croat at the net to keep himself in the hunt. Ivanisevic’s visage was now progressively becoming darker with every point. On his fourth Championship point, his serve landed in, and Rafter’s reply did not cross the net. Ivanisevic was finally flat on his stomach, sobbing and embracing the grass which had, till then, marked the scene of his most disappointing losses, but had now become the signpost of one of the most incredible victories ever. Rafter was at the net to give him a warm hug, flash a cheerful smile and ruffle his hair in a congratulatory air. It was typical of the Australian to ignore what had been his best chance yet to win at Wimbledon, and instead acknowledge the feat of his colourful opponent. But victory and defeat mixed easily in the heady atmosphere of the day. Ivanisevic managed to keep his date with destiny 6-3, 3-6, 6-3, 2-6, 9-7.
People’s Monday ending up presenting a very special tennis spectacle for the people. In many ways, it was an event that transcended tennis and defined a common fan’s relationship with sport as a whole. If sport is meant to be a microcosm of life, the Wimbledon final of 2001 served to highlight the best truths of life. Hope is a good thing to have, however far-fetched the dream might be. And in having a protagonist as human as Goran Ivanisevic playing the lead successfully, perhaps we could all find that little bit of inspiration to have hope in our own dreams.