Great sport needs great rivalries, and that is why anyone with a pulse must celebrate being in the throes of an unrivalled confluence of extraordinary sporting occasions right now. As commentators grind on about what a bad place the world is in – ignoring the far worse places the world has been in over the years – a few hours spent watching the magnificent Wimbledon final between Carlos Alcaraz and Novak Djokovic is just the sort of high-octane thriller we all need, as well as a ringing endorsement of the qualities of man.
And now there is the fourth Ashes Test of a brutally close series, and the closing stages of a magnificent Tour de France where Jonas Vingegaard and Tadej Pogacar have been just a spoke-length apart as they pursue each other up what looks like the side of buildings, so steep are the climbs. The Dane has produced the performance of his life to steal a margin that should seal the yellow jersey.
Alcaraz looks set to dominate for a long time. Could he even beat Federer’s record?
The final did much to rescue what was a pretty indifferent Wimbledon. Maybe that doesn’t matter: after all, it is a British summer event more than a tennis tournament, with the BBC quite happy to use a slow-motion shot of a cork popping out of a champagne bottle as part of its highlights reel. The crowd laughs at a mis-hit sending the ball into the air, or when some idiot calls out ‘Come on Rafa’ as Djokovic is about to serve. Hilarious. Still – what a final. It’s a pity you have to be royal, Brad Pitt or the CEO of something to actually be there.
It was a changing of the guard. Alcaraz looks set to dominate for a long time. Could he even beat Roger Federer’s record of 237 consecutive weeks as world No. 1? His touch play is astounding, his big-hitting baseline defence as sound as Djokovic’s, his courtcraft mesmerising. His drop-shot strategy didn’t always win points but it got better and better. The fact that he was using it at all sowed doubt in the mind of the ultimate baseline warrior, who likes to feel secure in his desire to dominate a match from the back of the court. It was like John McEnroe ending Björn Borg’s long reign.
So the rivalry between Novak and Carlos could be short-lived, as the Serb nears the end of his career and nothing seems likely to stop the Spaniard. He started the final looking vulnerable and ended it as the unassailable best in the world. The last game, when you would have expected Djokovic to be at his most competitive, turned out to be a masterclass by Alcaraz in how to close out a match. Having failed with one drop shot, he had the steel to try another that worked to perfection, and Djokovic’s composure was in pieces.
Anyone in any doubt about how blessed we are to have this ferocious, raucous Ashes series playing out day after day in packed cricket grounds across the country should have had a glance at the first Test between the West Indies and India in Dominica. Such a fixture would once have been a highlight of the cricket year: but there was scarcely a soul in the ground as India flattened the poor West Indies by an innings and plenty, the whole game played at a crawl. More’s the pity too, as India’s 21-year-old opener Yashasvi Jaiswal made 171 in this, his first Test innings. At 12, he left his home in rural Uttar Pradesh to live in a tent in Mumbai, making ends flogging street food. Now he’s opening the batting for one of the world’s best sides. Quite a story – shame more weren’t there in Dominica to see it.
Finally, the Women’s World Cup has begun. Every game is live on terrestrial TV, which is as it should be, and because of the time gap, you can watch a game before work. Anyone still inclined to be sniffy about women’s football should have a look at a brilliant Orange ad for the French football team. (Spoiler alert: who’s really playing?)
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