It's 3:30 a.m. here in London. I'm back in Islington after my last long commute from Wimbledon. My friends and my wife, who flew in on Friday for a short holiday, are asleep. I have one desire: to watch that match again.

I know there's a large appetite for technical analysis among the readers of our site, and usually I'm game for that. Not tonight. Forehands, backhands, chips, slices, volleys, wide serves, kick serves--all those shots, and all the choices associated with hitting them (when, where, how often, how hard) played their customary roles in this match. I'm not interested in any of it, though. All I want to know--and sadly, I'll never know it--is how two athletes as superb as Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal performed at this level despite the expectations (the match had been billed as the blockbuster to beat all blockbusters for three weeks), the pressure (Federer seeking his record-breaking sixth consecutive title, Nadal a major that would confirm his greatness, rather than his clay-court greatness), and the many disturbances (rain delays, wind, cold air, darkness, and an odd blue-red flickering light inside the scoreboard in the final game that didn’t stop Federer from hitting a backhand service return winner on match point). We've all come to expect great things from Federer and Nadal, but this? No, this was too much to ask. We tennis fans are now spoiled for good, because our sport cannot, I'm convinced, get any better than this.

The last two years at Wimbledon, I've thought back to the day before the first Federer-Nadal final here, back in 2006. A few of us visited Nadal at the flat he had rented (with his family) a short walk from the grounds. Nadal invited us upstairs; in his bare living room (couch, television, video game console and not much else) he sat on the floor in the corner, a shy boy who perhaps regretted allowing a small pack of reporters into his home. One remark Nadal that day has stuck with me since. "How will you deal with playing Roger Federer in the Wimbledon final?" the question went, or something close to that. "Do you possibly think you can win?"

"I'm gonna play the final of Wimbledon," Nadal said. He paused. "The final of Wimbledon. I don't want to lose."

Nadal was a believer then, and as of yesterday, what few doubters remained in this world came to believe in him, too. No tennis player since Bjorn Borg has been so certain of himself, so unflappable under pressure, so concentrated on the task at hand that nothing--from large worries like the inspired and clutch performing of his opponent, to trivial annoyances like a warning for a time violation--disturbs him. Nadal had a 5-2 lead in the fourth set tiebreaker yesterday and let it slip. How many other players would have started the fifth set with such confidence, with such determination after being one remarkable Federer backhand from the Wimbledon title? None, I say. He may have the best forehand in the world, he may have two of the fastest feet and two of the strongest biceps, but conviction is Nadal's chief talent.

I've tossed stats and analysis aside in this post; I don't want to delve into rankings, either. But I think we can all agree on this. No matter what the rankings say--and they continue to say "Federer"--at this moment in time, Nadal is the best tennis player on the planet. He hasn't lost a match since suffering an injury in Rome. He won in Hamburg. He won the French Open. He beat Andy Roddick and Novak Djokovic at Queen's Club. At Wimbledon, he punished six different men and then, to top it all, beat the best grass court player since Pete Sampras--a man in the running for best player of all time--in one of the most intense, enthralling matches in the sport's history (Mr. Bodo, whose thoughts on the match are here, told me somewhere near the end of the fifth set, as we looked on in awe, that this was "the best match of the Open Era"; Bodo, I'm sure you know, doth not speaketh lightly).

Federer played some of the best tennis I've ever seen him play. From late in the third set until early in the fifth set, he missed at most two or three forehands. He drilled ball after ball, but Nadal kept returning the favor, kept running, kept thinking his time would come. It did. It has. It doesn't matter if the point system agrees, or if he fades in the summer hard court season. There can only be one No. 1, and right now, it's Nadal.

"My first job is big sister," Venus Williams said today as she celebrated her fifth Wimbledon title (and held up the aptly named Venus Rosewater Plate).

Well, today big sister looked out for herself. Despite falling behind by a break of serve early in both sets, Venus played a clean match and took advantage of almost every opportunity Serena gave her while Serena squandered far too many chances. Venus' consistency and toughness were even more remarkable considering the wind that whipped through Centre Court all afternoon. The gusts were strong and unpredictable, sometimes blowing across the court, other times the length of it, other times swirling in circles. To my mind, the wind favored Serena's game: She's a more solid player (she's less prone to wild ground strokes) and has a much smoother and simpler service motion with a lower, steadier toss and a more consistent delivery (Venus has a "funky toss," Serena said). Venus, to her credit, remained patient and ignored the elements as best she could.

Venus and Serena had played six major finals before this match and Serena had won five of them, including their only two at Wimbledon. I came away from Serena's five victories with the same conclusion: Both sisters hate to lose, but Serena hates it more. She has always been the more willful player, the more relentlessly competitive player (I say this not to detract from Venus, but to emphasize Serena's unrivaled determination). After a loss, Serena is always sour (today's post-match press conference was no exception). Venus can't help but continue to smile. Serena fumes, Venus lets go.

These differences in personality have favored Serena in past meetings and I thought they would work to Serena's advantage today, too. But could they counteract the distinct advantage Venus has on grass? Venus' game is more explosive than Serena's. She has a harder serve, better volleys, more speed, more quickness, a longer reach, more agility, and maybe most important of all, more aptitude for creative shot making, like the winning backhand volley she hit in the third game of the match yesterday when little sister lined up a backhand and rocketed the ball toward her big sister's belly. When Venus has too much time to consider her options, she often tenses up and commits ghastly errors. When someone like her sister, or a grooved Lindsay Davenport (in the 2005 final) is drilling the ball at Venus on grass, however, she simply reacts, a does it better than anyone else in the game. Most players suffer when you take time away from them. Venus thrives.

I came to this match thinking over these two opposing forces--Serena's psychological advantage against Venus' superior grass court skills--and early on it looked like Serena would carry the day. She took command of the match from the start (superior strokes and superior attitude) and won the first two games while losing one point. When Venus served at 30-40 down 3-1, she was on the verge of losing not just the set, but her confidence. Her athleticism saved her. She brought the game to deuce with a stretch volley winner and hustled her way to a lucky let cord winner on the next point. Venus soon broke serve to square the set at 4-4. Suddenly, the sisters were playing the match Venus wanted to play: Lots of side-to-side rallies that left Serena winded, intermittent attacks on the net that favored Venus' volleys, and serving that relied on brute force more than placement. Venus served almost a third of her serves into Serena's body ("Body is my favorite here: You can't defend it," she said), a tactic that gave her a lot of short returns to punish. Serena continued to favor wide and down-the-middle serves and after a while, her long-limbed sister began returning them with more force. Serena needed seven break points to win the third game of the second set (she converted only 2 of 13 for the match). Venus needed just one break point to return the favor (she converted 4 of 7). A few games later, the Queen of grass put the match away.

A few words on the quality of this match, ever a subject of interest when the Williams sisters play. Under normal circumstances, I'd give this match an A- (thoroughly entertaining, but three sets would have been better). But the wind changes the grading scale here, so I'll give it an A+. The conditions, again, bordered on terrible. It's incredible that these two players were able to play so aggressively, and with so few errors, under these circumstances. They drilled ball after ball. They served with power and precision. They hit astonishing reflex volleys. It was the Williams sisters at their best and without a doubt my favorite of their many matches. It also must be said that the fix wasn't in--you knew that from the early going when Serena attempted that body blow. (Take that, Elena Dementieva!)

Before this tournament began, there was one thing Venus Williams had not achieved at Wimbledon: She hadn't beaten her sister--the best player of her era other than Venus--in the final. Now she has. She is, without doubt, the best grass court player of her generation. When the sisters finally do retire, Serena may be remembered as the better overall player. But Wimbledon will always belong to Venus.

Which is more likely to happen: Roddick winning a second slam (U.S. Open maybe) or Federer winning the French Open?--Cupcake lurker

Cupcake, forgive the iffy answer: If Nadal remains healthy and doesn't miss the French Open with an injury (like he did a few times before he won his first in 2005), Roddick has a better chance of winning a second major than Federer does of winning the French (Roddick's chances for a second are better, I think, than most people suspect). If Federer finds himself at the French Open in the next couple of years without Nadal on the other side of the draw, he'll have the advantage.

What's going on with Federer's coaching situation? We know Jose Higueras is not around (he left with his other client, Robby Ginepri), but will he be back with Federer after Wimbledon or has he been sacked?--Anjali

I don't have a definite answer for you, but when a player's recently hired coach leaves the most important tournament of the year before it ends, and neither the player nor the coach seems to mind, I'm guessing something isn't clicking. And it's not as if Federer has been singing Higueras' praises (he hasn't said anything negative, either--he's been mostly quiet about it). Higueras and Federer are both nice guys, but the signs suggest this relationship isn't meant to be.

I would like to know how Aorangi Park (the area north of Centre Court) at Wimbledon got its name. Aorangi is a Maori word. The Maori people were the original settlers of New Zealand. They were here for nearly a thousand years before the first Europeans showed up. So, I am intrigued as to how and why this part of Wimbledon got this name.--Wayne Hawkins

Wayne, you're most of the way there (nice work). According to the ever handy Wimbledon compendium, the All England Club purchased the land in 1967 and leased it to the New Zealand Sports and Social Club, which named the place (Aorangi means "cloud in the sky" and is the Maori name for Mount Cook). The courts on the land were commissioned in 1980 and the club repossessed the area in 1982.

Do you just have a grounds pass? What kind of tickets do you have and what is the best match you have watched live so far?--afwu1216

Awful, I'm a lot luckier than that. The reporters have access to all courts, including seats on Centre Court and Court 1. The best match I've seen so far was Nadal's victory over Murray, not because it was competitive, but because it's the best I've ever seen Nadal play (by a long shot). Rainer Schuettler vs. Arnaud Clement win the best theater award, with Elena Dementieva and Nadia Petrova finishing a close second.

I am really curious to know who, in your opinion, looks like they are playing better tennis, Nadal or Federer?--achilles 190

Nadal's victory over Murray was the most impressive match of the tournament, but the Spaniard looked a bit defensive at times in the semifinals against Schuettler (I was surprised to see that). Federer played his best match against Ancic and was less explosive against Safin (but then again, he didn't have to do more than he did). Nadal, to me, has looked slightly better, but I don't think we can conclude much from form when looking at two men who are playing as well as these two are playing now. They are both healthy and rested. They are both extremely confident. They are both playing for history, not just the title (as if the title wouldn't be enough). It should be a great match.

Why is Justin Gimelstob still on the air?--carnap and FeFe

Gimelstob's awful remarks have been condemned by everyone, from the ATP (he's on the board) to the Tennis Channel (which employs him) to the players (who all know him). He's also been suspended for a game by the Washington Kastles of World Team Tennis (though, oddly, not for the match against the team that fields Anna Kournikova, at whom Gimelstob's remarks were directed). Why not more punishment, you ask? My guess is that all the parties above know the other Gimelstob, too, the one who is charming and fun to be around (I know that Gimelstob, too). From here on out you can be sure he'll be on a short, short leash.

What are your thoughts on the performance of the Spaniards in the men's draw? Seems as though the other-than-Nadal contingent has performed more than well at this tournament. Would be especially interesting to know your take on lessons for the Americans in light of this.--Andrew Miller

You can make a very convincing argument that Spain is the world leader in men's tennis at the moment (Nadal made that very point in an interview this tournament). They have 11 players in the Top 100. Nadal is unbeatable at the French Open and on clay in general and he has now reached the Wimbledon final for three straight years and also the Australian Open semifinals. David Ferrer reached the U.S. Open semifinal last year and qualified for the Tennis Masters Cup. Feliciano Lopez played great tennis to reach the Wimbledon quarterfinals and Fernando Verdasco was games away from doing the same. If Nadal wins on Sunday, Spain, which won the Euro Cup in soccer last week, is going to one sleep-deprived nation. As for the U.S., if Spain can produce this many players, so can the U.S. The lesson is, get more kids to play tennis! The question is, is it possible with so many sports competing for the interest of young minds?

Real question: Any updates on Taylor Dent's supposed comeback to tennis?--Jerell

Real answer: Dent played a Challenger in California in May and lost first round; he was supposed to play in Winnetka this week, but withdrew with a minor injury. The good news: He has received a wild card into the Hall of Fame Tennis Championships in Newport, R.I., which begins on Monday.

What is it (in your opinion) that distinguishes a good mover on grass, from a not so good one?--N.D.

N.D., I say short steps, no sliding, and balance, balance, balance. And also balance.

"Is that the secret?" I asked him.

"For Rainer?" Dirk Hordorff, Schuettler's coach, replied, smiling. "No, no, it's for the kids."

It was a few hours after Schuettler had polished off the latest of his improbable Wimbledon victories when I wandered up to the player's cafeteria and spotted Hordorff stuffing fistfuls of candy bars into a brown paper bag as the woman behind the register tallied up his purchase. "Aha!" I thought. Schuettler is all sugared up--no wonder he's on such a great run. Hordorff didn't discriminate. Nestle Yorkies ("It's Not for Girls," the wrapper reads, emphasizing its point with an image of a handbag carrying woman canceled out by a no-smoking circle), Big Kat Kit Kat bars, the tasty Toffee Crisp: 22--yes, 22--candy bars in all. Maybe Schuettler had eaten nothing else since the tournament began! And now I had caught him.

Hordorff let me down easy.

He and Rainer were staying with Marcos Nagel, one of Hordorff's first students when he began his coaching career in Germany. Nagel later discovered he was better at finance than tennis; after earning a Master's degree in the U.S., he moved to Cobham, a 25-minute drive from Wimbledon (and where the Chelsea soccer team practices). Nagel and his wife have three sons, ages 14, 7, and 6, and the boys, one can safely say, are mad for candy, though their parents don't let them have much of it. Hordorff, seeing an opportunity to get into these youngster's good graces, has taken up the role of the kindly grandfather or uncle who spoils a child all day and then leaves trivial problems like broccoli and bedtime edicts to the parents.

"This adds to 38 I already bought," Hordorff said. "It's a depot. The kids are going to an American school so they have a long holiday. It will be for the whole holiday."

Sixty candy bars and still at least another day of Wimbledon to go! Schuettler is playing the best Wimbledon of his career, but those three boys, well, I doubt they'll ever recall any days of their lives more fondly than the ones that ended with Uncle Dirk dumping a bag of candy bars on their living room floor. They are Schuettler fans for life.

It's going to be a while, though, before they replace Hordorff as head of the fan club. He and Schuettler have been together since 1992, half of the 32-year-old Schuettler's days. Hordorff is a small man with thinning hair that falls from one side of his head to the other. He smokes cigarettes. He seems to drink a lot of coffee. He speaks calmly and evenly and gives the impression that he has recast every word two or three times before he let's you hear it. I've spoken to him on several occasions over the years, and he has been unfailingly friendly no matter how well Schuettler was playing--and for the last three years, you've heard by now, his pupil's playing wasn't pretty. Three months ago, Schuettler lost in the second round of a Challenger event in Puerto Rico. His opponent? Martin Fischer, ranked 260 in the world.

Asked if he was surprised that Schuettler had stuck with tennis for this long rather than give up during three futile years that included a bout with mononucleosis, Hordorff said, essentially, yes and no.

"He has some of the German attitudes like working very hard, he's very consistent," Hordorff said. "If you would ask me, normally I would say at 32 you should stop playing tennis, especially at this level. But on the other hand tennis gave him so much and it would be so disappointing to stop after three years bad experience and getting off the court with feelings--when he didn't enjoy tennis. A tournament like this gives him the chance to enjoy it, and if he stops, to have really good memories about his career."

Schuettler and those chocolate loving children, it turns out, have a lot in common. Tennis, when reduced to its essence, is an addiction, and once you're hooked, you're hooked and there's no going back. Injuries, disappointments, failures, fits of anger, self-imposed exiles, more failures, well-meaning advice from your loved ones, none of it stands up to the possibility of one more fix, one more day when every ball flies off your racket just so and there's nothing your opponent can do about it.

"It's always funny," Hordorff said. "If you see a young guy and he plays like three or four years, he says, 'I hope I can stop very soon, it's so annoying, I have to go all the life around the world, I have no friends.' He only sees the negative points. If you speak with the older guys, they are happy for every year they are allowed to play on the circuit. If Agassi, for example, wouldn't have been injured I think he would still be on the tour. I made a joke with [Rainer] when he made the last eight this year, 'Now you are stopping with tennis?' He said, 'I'm not sure, maybe I can play on until Wimbledon next year.'"

Play on, Rainer. Those kids will love you for it.

(For more on Schuettler's wacky victory over Arnaud Clement, have yourself a dose of Peter Bodo.)

When a player wins a coin toss and asks his opponent to serve first, he is, essentially, challenging the man across the net. In that one decision, a player says several things. "Your serve isn't that good, and I know it," is one. "You know it, too," is another. Perhaps the most important one is, "I'm going to jump all over you from the start."

Andy Murray put this challenge to Rafael Nadal yesterday. It was an attempt to break Nadal's rhythm (Nadal usually lets his opponents serve) and to tell the Spaniard that Murray planned on seizing control of the match early on. "This is going to be played on my terms." At least, that was the intended message. Nadal wasn't listening. Murray never challenged him again.

It amazed me that he didn't. Murray has played quite well this tournament and he absorbed a lot of firepower from Richard Gasquet on Monday before staging a comeback from two sets down. He's a resourceful and creative player, maybe the second-most creative player in the game behind Federer (how's that for a compliment?) and creativity has been a good antidote to Nadal's consistency (search Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, January 24, 2008, Melbourne, Australia, on Google, or if you still prefer the physical dictionary, look at the entry under "drubbing"). Better still, Murray has used his variety and offensive skills to good effect against Nadal. When they met at the Australian Open in 2007, Murray controlled most of the match before wilting down the stretch. He served and volleyed successfully. He punished Nadal's serve. He forced Nadal to hit short forehands and took control of rallies.

Going into yesterday's match, I didn’t think Murray would be strong enough or steady enough to sustain the sort of attack necessary to win three sets from Nadal, who is a better player than he was in Melbourne last year and also more comfortable on grass. But I didn't think Mr. Muscles, as a few local papers began to call the bicep-flexing Scot after the Gasquet match, would look meek. When you challenge your opponent to serve first and proceed to win 10 points against serve the entire match, you've, um, underestimated the task at hand.

I don't mean to say that Murray took Nadal lightly, or that he expected an easy match. Far from it. The point here is that all the compliments given to Nadal lately, all the praise about the improvements he has made in his game and his supreme powers of concentration, don't do justice to how well he is playing at the moment. Murray, despite expecting a lot, was dazzled, especially by Nadal's forehand.

"I mean, he just swings his arm, I mean, so hard at the ball," Murray said. "When you watch Federer play it looks like he's, you know, sort of effortless power. When you see Nadal, and you actually see how fast he moves the racquet through the air and the amount of spin and speed that he generates. Yeah, I think for sure…his forehand is the heaviest shot in tennis."

Nadal has polished every aspect of his game the last few years: He talks about this a lot (because we reporters ask him about it a lot), and we write about it a lot (because he answers). But Murray's remarks brought home to me something to which I hadn't given much thought: Of all the things Nadal has improved--his serve, his volley, his backhand, his court positioning--he has improved his forehand the most. It has long been his best shot and it has always been a fearsome shot. But it's a lot better now than it was a few years ago. He hits the ball deeper into the court, often within inches of the baseline. He hits the ball harder. Yet he hasn't sacrificed accuracy or consistency or spin. Murray put it this way: "He's just hitting the ball lower over the net with the same amount of spin. You know, so it's shooting through the court a bit more, which makes it harder."

Roger Federer, I think almost everyone would agree, has had the best forehand in tennis for the last four years. It's a prettier shot than Nadal's (as Murray suggested), it's technically superior (less severe grip, more fluid, more consistent weight distribution). Until recently, it was also more consistently a weapon (Nadal's match against James Blake at the U.S. Open a few years ago showed how vulnerable his forehand could be if he played too defensively). Right now, though, Nadal's forehand is as good as Federer's and perhaps better (one clear advantage is he is less prone to errors). And I'm not just basing this on Wimbledon. The chief reason Nadal so convincingly beat everyone at the French Open, especially Federer in the final, was his willingness to play aggressively on the forehand side, despite having every right to lapse into the more defensive-minded play that won him three previous titles at Roland Garros. Nadal didn't need to improve to win the French Open again, and he certainly didn't need to play a different style. It takes courage to change something that already works, but Nadal has tinkered with his forehand in hopes that it can help him win more often elsewhere. It's working out nicely, wouldn't you say?

If you had to vote, would you say Federer still owns the forehand, or has Nadal passed him? Chat (Nicely! No ad hominem attacks, please!) below and I'll be back later with answers to some (most, but not all) of the questions you asked me in one of my earlier posts.

Let’s take a few minutes to compare the resumes of Nicole Vaidisova and Zheng Jie. The 19-year-old Vaidisova spent much of her life at Nick Bollettieri’s tennis academy, which has produced, or helped to train, some of the best player’s the sport has known. She’s 6 feet tall and powerfully built. Her serve often approaches 115 mph. She is only one of six women in the history of the women’s tour to win five singles titles before the age of 17 (along with Tracy Austin, Andrea Jaeger, Monica Seles, and Martina Hingis--pretty good company). At age 14, she made her professional debut and every year since she has been marketed as the next best thing in women’s tennis, a multiple major champion in waiting.

Zheng, 24, is 5-foot-4, and weighs 126 pounds. She has no tennis players in her family and didn’t start playing tennis until age 10. As I learned (and was not surprised to learn) while reporting a story on tennis in China (due out in our magazine in August), Zheng, like other players of her generation, didn’t have optimal training as a junior. Even at 10, she was too weak to wield a racket and needed to swing with both hands. In her earliest lessons, one coach would instruct as many as 20 kids. With so many kids and so few coaches, the kids were often asked to watch, rather than play along (imagine learning tennis via lecture). In China she has become something of a star for her success in doubles (she and Yan Zi won titles at the Australian Open and at Wimbledon in 2006), but she has never been hailed as one of the tour’s most promising players. I can't resist adding that Zheng, according to the WTA Tour's notes on the women's quarterfinals, "admires her parents and grandparents." Thanks for the tip!

Vaidisova and Zheng met on Court 1 at Wimbledon yesterday, and if you had just dropped into the match, via Jelena Jankovic’s helicopter, without knowing anything of their histories, opportunities, and past performances, you would have thought that Vaidisova had hired Zheng, an experienced professional, to teach her a lesson. And teach Zheng did. As Vaidisova flailed about on her forehand, chased after awkward ball tosses on her serve, and repeatedly lost her balance (was this grass or ice?), Zheng patiently created angles, flicked her impressive two-handed backhand crosscourt, and served as hard as her little frame would allow (she topped out at 106 mph and hit two aces; the hulking Vaidisova hit three). The first and third sets of Zheng's 6-2, 5-7, 6-1 victory were a master class of precision.

What happened on Court 1 yesterday makes one wonder about the importance of size in tennis. The game has gotten a lot bigger in the last 20 years: both the men and women are, on average, much taller, more muscular, and more powerful than in years past. But it's interesting how all the fears of the late 1980s--gloom and doom predictions about giants with big serves and strokes so powerful that there would be no place for finesse and tactics, or even rallies--have, largely, not been realized. It's better to have strength and size than not, but tennis still rewards the small, the crafty, the polished. Heck, a player not so different from Zheng--Justine Henin--would still be the No. 1 ranked player in the world if she had not retired before this year's French Open. Henin, to me, was supercharged version of Martina Hingis. Zheng is Hingis light.

Let's wade even deeper into the endlessly fascinating "evolution of the game" discussion. Does grass, as it plays today (truer bounces because of harder soil), favor small players or big players? It seems to me it gives the tiny as many advantages as it does the towering, and perhaps more advantages. The longer rallies last, the more important footing becomes--just ask James Blake, who last week cited his slips and slides as the main cause for his failures at Wimbledon. Novak Djokovic sometimes has trouble with this, too. Djokovic is a slider (he does it on hard courts more than any of the top men and excels at the clay-court glide) but his kind of hard running is not helpful on grass (it leads to falls). I recently had an off-the-record discussion with a top coach (so I won't name him or her) who cited Djokovic's balance and occasional lack of body control as his biggest weakness, especially on grass. This was before the tournament started.

Smaller players have an advantage when it comes to footing, for the simple reason that they have a lower center of gravity and a shorter stride. If they hit the ball flat, as Zheng does, they receive the best benefit of the grass: their shots bounce low, which forces their bigger opponents to bend. Short players have a more difficult time on the serve (fewer angles and less height over the net) but they have some advantages in this regard, too. Just look at Tanasugarn. She has a weak serve, but it has always worked well at Wimbledon because she never kicks it (she prefers the slice) and her low delivery lands in the box at a less severe angle and skids more than sits up. Grass improves her serve.

Here's some more casual evidence that being large can be a disadvantage at Wimbledon. Ivo Karlovic, the 6-foot-10 Croat with the booming serve, has lost in the first round here for four straight years now (last year he lost to Fabrice Santoro, who is Zheng-like in his lack of power and size). The two most surprising members of the men's quarterfinals this year are not just old and seemingly at the end of their careers, but tiny, too (the 30-year-old Arnaud Clement is 5-foot-8 and the 32-year-old Rainer Schuettler is 5-foot-11 in the same way that Andre Agassi is 5-foot-11--that is, 5-foot-10 at most).

None of these small wonders are likely to win Wimbledon, not when the best players are bigger (though not giants), stronger, and as good at the little things (Federer never seems to slip on grass; Nadal doesn't do it often, either). But it seems there will always be a place in tennis, and especially at Wimbledon, for the undersized.

As you would expect, Andy Murray is the talk of London today. The Daily Mail calls him "King Andy." Metro (and others) call him "Braveheart." "Mighty Murray," says The Sun; "Incredible Hulk," shouts the "Daily Mirror." There are innumerable photos of a charged up Murray standing at the edge of the crowd after his dramatic running backhand to win the third set, and of his flexed bicep (a bit too choreographed for my taste, you?) in darkness after he sent Richard Gasquet to perhaps the worst of his many awful defeats.

I feel a bit of sympathy for Gasquet. He did choke, just as Andy Roddick choked against Gasquet last year when he, too, led by two sets and a break of serve. But if you're looking for hope--and if you are a Gasquet fan, you'll probably latch onto anything at this point--remember the two points he played when serving to stay in the match at 30-40 with Murray leading 5-3. It was 9:25 p.m. at that point, and Centre Court was dark, certainly dark enough to suspend the match under normal circumstances. (I'm glad the tournament let play continue, because the darkness affected both men equally and because momentum--that ever-important component of every tennis match--is a force that players work hard to turn in their favor. It's an earned advantage, just as much as a good approach shot.)

But back to the match. Gasquet played serve and volley (especially risky in the dark) and hit a good first volley and then a soft forehand volley off a weak reply (just the sort of shot a player feeling the pressure might miss, for the simple reason there is too time to think about not missing). At deuce, he charged the net again. When Murray threw up a good topspin lob, Gasquet backpedaled, leaped, and snapped an overhead winner. The ball was behind him and he had to hit it over his left shoulder. Under the best of circumstances--an opening set on a bright day with no sun in your eyes--it would have been a magnificent shot. Under these circumstances, it could have been career defining. That is, if he had come back to win. Maybe next time?

With that, I'll catalogue some adventures from around the grounds (and in the interview rooms):

Fatherhood: Lleyton Hewitt and his wife, the actress Bec Cartwright, are expecting their second child. Here's what Hewitt had to say:

Q: "How does it feel becoming a dad for the second time?"
Hewitt: "Yeah, good. Thanks."
Q: "Is the baby due in January?"
Hewitt: "I'm not sure."

I saw Hewitt in the village this morning, talking to Tony Roche and John Newcombe outside of a coffee shop. He seemed to have all his limbs.

New Queen of Fault? Elena Dementieva double faulted once in her 6-2, 6-1 fourth-round victory over Shahar Peer (Dementieva, incredibly, is the highest seeded player remaining). Alisa Kleybanova double faulted seven times in her first four service games against Venus Williams. Perhaps the cursed baton has been passed from one Russian to another?

Throwing darts: That's what I'm reminded of when I watch Tamarine Tanasugarn serve (she also goes by Tammy and TT). She doesn't bend her knees and swings so hard that her head snaps forward as she falls into the court. Amazing that her shoulder has survived all these years on the tour (she's 31).

Three Cheers for Minnesota: I was impressed with Minnesota native Bethanie Mattek this week. Point after point against Serena Williams, she hustled and tried every shot she could think of. Mattek kept up the effort until the last point, when Serena ran her around the court with angles and a drop volley. Players often tell the press that they are working harder off the court, that they are in better shape, etc., etc. Mattek said as much this week, but proved it on the court, too. Here's hoping good results continue to come her way.

Jeers for Spain? Fernando Verdasco could not follow Rafael Nadal and Feliciano Lopez into the quarterfinals despite leading Mario Ancic two sets to one and 4-1 in the fourth set. Credit to Ancic, but a bad loss for Verdasco.

Too Much Tennis? I wouldn't have expected Zheng Jie and Yan Zi, the 2006 Wimbledon doubles champions, to lose their third-round match to Ekaterina Makarova and Selima Sfar. Less likely, though, was Zheng's advancement to the singles quarterfinals. Perhaps success at both has been too taxing?

Dispatches: Here's some additional reading for you.

Jelena Jankovic lost on Court 18 and then gave the local papers a lot to write about.

Times tennis correspondent Neil Harman gives us this fine piece on Justine Henin, whom he visited in Belgium…

…and here's his take on Murray's muscles.

If you were scared by Rafael Nadal's slip early in his match against Mikhail Youzhny, you'll find this article from Richard Evans, in The Observer, interesting.

The latest book by Bud Collins, "The Bud Collins History of Tennis," can be found here.

Court 18, my favorite court at Wimbledon (other than Centre Court), is a short walk from the press center here on the grounds. What's so splendid about it? First and foremost, it's cozy (capacity 782, a more than a third of Court 2). It also has a lot of perches that other courts do not have. You can sit high up in the bleachers in the rear. You can sit at court level, where you'll find yourself a few feet from the players. If you have a press credential, you can watch from the roof deck of the broadcast center, which overlooks the court from the opposite side of the bleachers, or from the large glass window inside the ESPN studio, which gives you the feeling that you are hanging over the side of the court near the service line (though you're not).

As Marcos Baghdatis and Feliciano Lopez finished the fourth set of their fourth round match yesterday, I took in a few points from the roof and then found a seat in the corner near Baghdatis' new coach, Peter Lundgren, the former coach of Roger Federer and Marat Safin and (more significantly, at least for me) the man who lost the first live tennis match I saw in my life (the 1989 final at the Tennis Hall of Fame in Newport, courtesy of my older brother Mike; in case you're wondering, Jim Pugh won the title).

In the afternoon, the left side of the court (picture the chair umpire on your left) is draped in shade, perfect for the fans but not very good for the left-handed Lopez, who had trouble with the sun when serving from that side of the net (he kept checking it and occasionally practiced his toss). Anytime Lopez plays, a disruption to his serve could be fatal (he hit 25 aces in all, including four in the fourth set tiebreak). It's far and away the best stroke he has.

Lopez cruised along in the fifth set until he served at 4-5; this is where he showed me a side I haven't seen before, and one I wish I would see form him more often. Baghdatis put Lopez in a 0-40 hole with a few fine shots. There Lopez stood, facing triple match point, serving into the sun, and up against the conclusion of the tournament best suited to his game. Lopez served two bombs to bring him within a point of deuce, but then missed his first serve. His tournament on the line, Lopez did what no one--least of all Baghdatis and Lundgren--expected him to do. The Spaniard tossed up the ball for a second serve and just let it ride. Thwack! A 117 mph slice ace into the backhand corner. Lopez smashed a forehand approach shot on the next point and ended the game with 138 mph service winner up the middle, punctuated by a booming "Vamos!" Lundgren slowly bowed his head and after sitting silently for about ten seconds, said to himself, "Unbelievable."

Gutsy, too. It's one thing for Lopez to go for broke against Federer at the U.S. Open (he won a set last year) when he has nothing to lose, but to do it in a match that he knows he can win, in a fifth set, after saving two match points--well, that's something else entirely. Logically, it was the best choice: his serve is his weapon, so he might as well try to win with it (and accept losing because of it). But this was the time in a match where one's body often doesn't do what's logical, even when asked. Three games later, when Baghdatis faced double break point on his serve, he played a tentative rally. This time, Lopez wisely looped the ball to the baseline. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose, so why bet it all? Baghdatis hit a tentative forehand wide to give Lopez the lead. The Spaniard surprised Baghdatis with another second serve ace at 30-15 in the next game (perfect time for that 116 mph flat bomb down the middle) and ended the match with another thumper (a service winner 123 mph). When he fell to the court (see above) he collapsed limply, as if someone had just unplugged him from an electrical outlet (is Feliciano Lopez a robot? Sounds like an investigation for the folks at The Onion, the worldwide leader in news about Spanish tennis players).

Lundgren consoled Baghdatis' mother after the match.

"He can serve an ace on his second serve as hard as he can hit it?" Lundgren said. "What can you do? [Marcos] got unlucky."

I can see Lundgren's point, but Baghdatis' bad luck arose only because Lopez had the courage to gamble more. Perhaps he was emboldened by Spain's Euro Cup victory and the dream that this is Spain's year. There are, after all, two Spaniards in the quarterfinals, along with perhaps two Frenchman (shock of shocks, Arnaud Clement, and maybe Richard Gasquet, unless Andy Murray continues to wave the magic wand he waived in the third set) and a German (31-year-old Rainer Schuettler, shock of shocks of shocks of shocks, ad infinitum). Will they be mere foils for Federer and Nadal, or real threats?