Why we watch

I'm not Mr. Tennis.

It's in my sporting portfolio, and I've been aware of it for a long time. I was a kid in the time of Jack Kramer and Pancho Gonzalez, and I remember the well-deserved fuss when Althea Gibson won her titles in the fifties. But I'm no tennis aficionado.

I've never been to any major tennis event, save the 1999 Davis Cup against Australia, which we had right here at Longwood. Nope, no Wimbledons, nor even a US Open.

But that doesn't mean I don't like it, or follow it to some degree, and so I was pleased when, after driving from Manhattan to Fenway on Sunday I arrived while Roger Federer and Andy Roddick were in the fourth set. It was approximately 11:30.

Good, I thought. I'll watch this match 'til its conclusion, then get something to eat, and then get ready for the Red Sox and Mariners.

Ha.

We all know what happened. Those two kept hammering away at each other. Soon it was noon, then 12:30, then 1 p.m., and now it was getting serious. Would they, in fact, conclude their business before the game began at 1:35?

By 1 p.m. I knew food was going to be a casualty. Maybe I'll grab some ice cream (which is exactly what happened). They did beat the first pitch, but not by much. And I hated the ending. That match should have been capped off by a winner, not a weak pop up of a return by anyone.

But, wow, what we had seen! There are times when it doesn't matter of the sport you're watching is your sport. All that matters is that you are a true fan of sport, and if you are, you don't have to be told when you are bearing witness to both legitimate greatness and history. And what does this say about Federer? This is two years in a row he has been involved in an epic match that will go down in the annals of his sport as among the very best ever staged. He is great, and he brings out greatness in others.

On Sunday we were all reminded why we are sports fans. For the umpteenth time, I say that I am truly sorry for those among us who aren't.