The finales were predictable—the No. 1s won—but the
rest of Wimbledon this time around was a string of surprises, from the Williams
sisters’ doubles defeat, to the rise and fall of Yen-Hsun Lu, to the strong run of the highly vulnerable Novak Djokovic. Who outdid themselves? Who disappointed
us? Let’s wrap it up.

Andy Murray

Has he started to look like Tim Henman, just a little? The early hopes,
the mid-tournament triumphs, the blown volleys, the blank stare that says “I knew this would happen,” the mournful wave
good-bye after a not-as-close-as-may-have-seemed-at-the-moment semifinal defeat
to the eventual champion: It’s all so familiar, and as with Henman, it may
start to be all too predictable. Tiger Tim, despite the nickname, never had the
big shot that would let him dictate play and make life a little easier. Neither
does Murray. Still, he played well. A-

Petra Kvitova

At first I was turned off by her extra-vehement fist-pumps
in the direction of the player box. But I was won over by her athleticism and
fearlessness against Serena in the semis. Anyone who can stick and attack like
that has a future. A-

Tsvetana Pironkova

The last time Pironkova appeared on the radar screen was in
2006, when she beat Venus Williams in Melbourne. Will she fade for another four
years? I hope not. I like the slice backhand. Tennis can always use a little craftiness.
A-

Ron Wood

Apparently, judging from the younger woman sitting next to him, the smiling, smoking crone of rock and roll still has it. Whatever, at this point, it may be. A-

The Queen

I was impressed that Serena granted her an audience. It’s amazing where royalty can get you. A-

Novak Djokovic

He was solid against his lesser opponents, but couldn’t hurt
Berdych in the semis. He appears to still have the ability to let it rip and attack
from anywhere, but maybe he doesn’t anymore. Good defense and balanced all-around
play just aren’t quite enough. B+

Yen-Hsun Lu

He put on one of the best performances of the tournament
against Roddick, then returned to oblivion against Djokovic. Would we be
disappointed if we asked the real Lu to please stand up? B

Maria Sharapova

Still creeping back toward her former status, she looked
great for a week, and went toe-to-toe from the baseline with Serena for one
long, exciting set. But then, at the end, she double-faulted wildly. No matter
how well she plays otherwise, you have to wonder if her serve will keep her
from going all the way at a major again. B

Roger Federer

Maybe the outfit was too bland this time. A close-to-awful
first round, a shaky second, and a defeat in the quarters: It wasn’t a good
tournament for Federer. He’s always been the master of taking what his
opponents give him, but this time the tables were turned; one bad patch of
forehands was enough to cost him the first set against Berdych. Those little
lapses spell the difference between titles and quarterfinals. He said that this
was a “decent result.” I don’t believe for a second that he actually thinks this, but in
the real world, the one where Federer may have to live from now on, it’s true.
B

Robin Haase

An easy walk, a smooth serve, and lightning stuff for the
better part of four sets against Nadal. I’d like to see it again. B

Sam Querrey

The man has a dilemma: His calm during the storm helps him get through the matches
that he should win, but it doesn’t help him raise his game in the ones that he
shouldn’t. B

Robin Soderling

As he blitzed through the early rounds looking brutally
confident, it almost appeared like he might bully all the way through this
tournament. It continued to appear that way as, looking more brutally confident
than ever, he took the first set from Nadal. Then Rafa shook off the nerves and
punched the bully back. You know what happens after that. Soderling lost the
fourth set 6-1. B-

Andy Roddick

I felt like he suffered from a lack of grass-court
preparation this time. It’s hard to get any in the first place, and it didn’t
help that he lost early in Queen’s. He served well enough not to be broken for
five sets against Lu, but otherwise he was the more passive player; Roddick
himself said he was horrible for the better part of two sets. The topspin rally
balls he used to win on hard courts this spring landed right in Lu’s strike
zone on grass. C+

Kim Clijsters

You never know with her these days. First she runs away from
Justine in the third set, looking as confident and determined as she ever has. I wondered, briefly, if this was the start of a new Kim. In her next
third set, against Zvonareva, she ran in the opposite direction, folding up
shop against a player she should beat. C+

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga

You could never trust the guy, but now you really
can’t trust him. Up a set on Murray in the quarters, and serving at 5-5 in the
second set tiebreaker, he lets a ball land on the baseline. Then he completely
folds. That’s called finding a way to lose. C

Brooke Shields’ Eyelid

There were a few questionable ads on Tennis Channel and ESPN over the
course of the two weeks. We had the inexplicable Caveman with the wooden
racquet (please stop it), Federer dreaming about himself in the mirror for
Rolex, a couple in their wedding clothes  jumping off a cliff for Ramada Inn
(marriage really isn’t that bad, is it?), a Dinara Safina lookalike hitting a
Wiffleball in an otherwise well-produced K-Swiss ad, and, most annoying, a wife
who won’t let her husband dance on vacation in a Chase commercial (is “stick in
the mud” what advertisers think when they think of tennis viewers?).

Or do tennis viewers just want longer eyelashes?
All paled—or shone, I should say—in comparison to the eyelid, presumably
Brooke Shields’ eyelid, in the spots for Latisse. This is a company that seems to be
able to make your lashes not just appear to be longer, but also to scurry along like a
centipede. I have to hand it to them, it’s the visual I may remember the
longest from this year’s Wimbledon. F

Every Grand Slam is a trade-off. If the first 10 days are
dull and by the book, chances are the final weekend will be a dramatic one. And,
conversely, if you see a lot of action—i.e. upsets—through the early rounds, in
the end you’re going to be left without the tension and potential for
historical fireworks that the marquee names bring with them. Novelty and
surprise quickly descend into the fluky and forgettable. The past decade, in which
the majors went to seeding 32 players, thereby reducing the chances for
first-round shockers, has been one where the excitement at the Slams has
typically peaked over the final two days. This year’s Wimbledon was an exception. Early chaos led to quiet endings; the
finals were a pair of efficient masterpieces by the world’s No. 1 players that, from a dramatic standpoint, bordered on the tedious. Whether this
tournament heralds a new era of chaos and tedium—particularly on the men’s
side—remains to be seen.

Now, however, is not yet the time to look ahead. It’s time
to review, to judge, to praise, to mock, to trash what transpired over the last
two weeks at the All England Club. Let’s start with the praises.

Rafael Nadal

The last three Wimbledon men’s finals were all-time classics
that lasted into the early London evening. So when Nadal hit
a winning crosscourt forehand to end this year’s final, it seemed way too early in
the day for the match to be over.
When he fell on the cracked brown dirt at the baseline, it hardly seemed
like the end of a Wimbledon final at all. There’d been no seesaw drama. The crowd was never
brought to its feet. There was no victor’s climb into the stands.
Even Nadal’s most notable celebratory gesture—he somersaulted soccer-style on
the grass—looked like it had been rehearsed, as if he’d been so confident
of winning that he’d scrapped his last practice session so he could perfect his roll on the turf.

Of course, if you know anything about tennis, and the subtle
ways in which excellence in the sport works, you couldn’t have been bored by Nadal’s
performance. The fact that this match felt like a foregone conclusion is, more
than anything, a credit to his all-business mastery of the moment, and the long-term improvements he’s made to his game over the years. Yes, Berdych
failed to capitalize on his few opportunities; the squandered break points at
the start of the second set were particularly crucial. And he fell
apart at exactly the wrong moments. But Nadal was also not at his best. He was
blatantly nervous to begin the second set, and he never reached his peak level
of shot-making energy the whole afternoon. But he didn’t need to be, because, in an inconspicuous way, he had taken Berdych out of his own game. Remember, the Czech was a former nemesis of Nadal’s. He beat him three straight times at one stage,
and his assets were seen as the template for how to beat Nadal: He was tall
enough to handle his topspin, he could hit through the court on either side,
and he owned a two-handed backhand that could go toe-to-toe with Nadal’s
crosscourt forehand.

Considering that Nadal has beaten Berdych in their last seven matches without
dropping a set, how do we like that template now? Watching the final, I started to think that Berdych’s
game is exactly the wrong one to throw up against Rafa, and the reason for that
turnaround was obvious: Nadal had transformed all of Berdych’s old strengths
against him into weaknesses. He drew errors by hitting low slice backhands that
forced Berdych to bend and dig. He hit his crosscourt forehand at a safe and
slightly wider angle than normal to take advantage of Berdych’s lack of reach
with his two-hander. And most important, he stretched Berdych with his bending
slice serve to the backhand side and fired the ball into the tall man’s body to jam him.

Turning your opponent’s strengths into liabilities, and your
own liabilities into strengths: There’s the mark of a mature player, and it’s
got nothing to do with muscle or speed. Nadal and his uncle Toni once said,
with all sincerity, that when Rafa began his pro career he had the worst serve
on tour—the worst. Look what that shot is doing for him now; he just went
through a Grand Slam final unbroken. As I said, all of those
holds did not make for a crowd-pleasing performance. But that’s exactly what we
used to say about Pete Sampras, and, in his days of utter dominance, Roger
Federer. What else does this “dull” duo have in common? They’re widely thought of as the two greatest tennis players in history. Nadal has always been celebrated for the youthful vibrancy he brings to tennis. But it may be a
sign that, at 24, he’s reaching his mature peak when we can give him an even
higher compliment. Wear it as a badge of honor, Rafa, because only the very
best are lucky enough to have it pinned on them: You were good enough to be called boring. A+

Serena Williams

This was also Serena’s no-drama Slam. She was even more
efficient and Sampras-like than Nadal, and she made the women’s final seem even
more of a foregone conclusion than the men’s. By the end, she was playing
what I think of as men’s-style grass court tennis. Her serve, her return, and
her first stroke allowed her to clamp down on rallies immediately, to the
point where she didn’t even need to assert her superiority with the rest of her
game. Serena didn’t need to show that she was faster, or a more powerful and
accurate ground-stroker, than Zvonareva. She could win Wimbledon and still keep
something in reserve.

But over the fortnight Serena showed that she can win in
various ways. She absorbed Maria Sharapova’s biggest hits and sent them back to
the corners with even more pace. She fought off the inspired athleticism of
Petra Kvitova, as well as her own nerves, in the semis. In both of those
matches, when the two or three points that made the difference in the match
arrived, Serena won them. For all the talk of the grass game has
changed, it still comes down to those few moments. It’s about hanging on
to what you’re given—namely, your serve—and being patient enough to take what
your opponent gives you—in this instance, a double-fault at 9-9 in a
tiebreaker by Sharapova, which Serena, opportunist extraordinaire, followed up with a soul-crushing ace. We’ve always said that Venus Williams is the greatest women’s
grass-court player of her era. When this era, the Williams era, finally does
end, I don’t think we’ll be saying that anymore. A+

Isner-Mahut

The modern game meets the pre-modern format on a side court in the first round. Awesome and
dull, its high quality was mind-numbing. After 40-odd years of professional tennis,
with all of its technology, training, and shot-making evolution, these two
second-tier players showed how proficient—bizarrely proficient—the men’s game
has become. They also showed, especially in the words of the loser, Mahut, how
gracious it has become. The prize ceremony afterward was awkward but sweet. And deserved. A+

Vera Zvonareva

She’s always had the ball-striking skill, but this time she
managed to channel her famous well of emotion into something positive. She cried
when it was over, but what I’ll remember from her over these two weeks was the
determined but controlled way she pulled ahead in her third sets with Clijsters
and Pironkova. Zveonareva looked like she was learning on the spot that she really does have a top-level game. A

Tomas Berdych

If he never reaches another major final, Berdych will go
down as a footnote in tennis history—conqueror of Federer, victim of Nadal,
and, if the men’s game continues to get taller, a sign of things to come.
When he first appeared seven seasons ago, he looked
like the next step, after Marat Safin, in towering, effortless power. But for
years he was a cold and indifferent competitor, and the smoothness of his game
got lost underneath that icily frustrating surface. But it rose back up in the quarters and semis at Wimbledon.
The inside-out forehand that Berdych seems to caress for 90-m.p.h. winners, in
particular, is a shot I’ve never seen from anyone. It was fun and inspiring to watch him exceed himself in the final game against Federer, but that success
made it a little surprising that he couldn’t find a way to do it again in the
final. Where Berdych had been bold, he was hesitant, his shot selection confused. He missed balls even before he got a chance to pull the trigger on a big one. 

Is Berdych the next del Potro, a guy on his way to better things? Or is he the next Soderling, a guy who may have hit his ceiling? If I had to guess, I’d say the latter. It’s tough to make yourself significantly more confident, to re-imagine yourself and your place in the game, in the middle of your career. Either way, when he’s striking the ball
smoothly and competing with heart, Berdych is an appealing addition to the top
tier. My favorite unexplained moment: What inside joke was he laughing at as he
pointed to his box after beating Federer? Who would have thought that the
cold-eyed Czech would consider the biggest win of his career so hilarious? A

***

Back with the rest, and the worst, tomorrow.

Howdy, everyone. Today is catch-up day at the office. Tomorrow I’ll empty my mental outbox with random thoughts, impressions and experiences from my stint at Wimbledon. I may not get to post tomorrow on Matt Harvey, the Wimbledon poet, with whom I had a visit last week, but that too will get done. I think writing one up is appropriate. Meanwhile, though,we ought to fire a shot across Matt’s bow, courtesy of our own poet laureate, Madame Highpockets.

You can use this post to get silly in any number of ways, including talking tennis. I mean, Kleybanova is winning in Budapest and Flavia Pennetta is rockin’ in the Swedish Open. Dent is out of Newport, and so forth .  .  .  The beat goes on. The tennis beat always goes on. But first, let’s stop and celebrate Wimbledon in our customary manner, in verse.

PS – don’t you love that “third-grade class picture” smile on Rafa’s face in this photo?

– Pete

                                        Lads in London

by Highpockets

As the glorious sun kissed the grass on the hill,

And they dressed Centre Court in the new morning chill,

Wimbledon held out her arms to the masses;

To the tents in the Queue filled with laddies and lasses.

It wasnt the greatest in Wimbledon lore,

But a first round encounter left us begging for more.

For the first time since disco, Her Majesty came,

Hoping her visit would lift Andys game.

The World Cup unfolded and flags were unfurled,

And a Wimbledon match cast a spell on the world.

On a distant grass court, two men battled on,

A Frenchman named Nick and a Bulldog named John.

Neither man would concede or succumb to defeat,

And Mohammed Layani stayed glued to his seat.

New words of encouragement made their debut:

“Never give up think of Isner/Mahut!”

This fortnight was crazy, a twitterers dream;

Upsets were common, five-setters routine.

The umps were exacting, Novotny was busy;

And Fed got ejected and left in a tizzy.

The sun on the court was toasty and warm,

With nary a sign of a squall or a storm.

Inspired and charming was young Randy Lu,

And the Queen wore a suit of robins egg blue.

Murray/Nadal was a thrilling display

Of predators probing and testing their prey:

A volley stupendous, a drop shot disguise;

You couldnt ask more from these talented guys.

Tomas lost to the champ, but it wasnt tragic;

He still got to feel that Wimbledon magic.

Theres a feeling of history here in this place,

A timeless event in a cool green embrace.

As for Rafa Nadal, well, what can you say?

It just doesnt matter if its grass, hard or clay.

The Spaniards a genius, a masterful stud,

Who fights like no other when hes out for blood.

He believed in himself and defended his crown;l

He covered the court, chasing everything down.

As he fell to the grass, the crowd cheered with joy;

They cant get enough of this jubilant boy.

Fred Perry, youre safe; and Pete, so are you;

You still have your records; no need to be blue.

As for me, Ill go out and plant my verbena,

And wait for the day Rafael plays Serena.

Have a good day, everyone!

WIMBLEDON, England (AP)—It was the middle Sunday at Wimbledon, the tournament’s traditional day off, and the best players in men’s tennis were scattered around the All England Club’s practice courts.

Rafael Nadal was there, going through a relatively light training session. To his right stood Roger Federer, hitting on the next court over. To Nadal’s left was Andy Roddick, also on an adjacent court. Andy Murray was out there, too, along with Novak Djokovic and Robin Soderling.

All were in close quarters that afternoon. But a week later, it’s clear that the gap between 2010 Wimbledon champion Nadal and the rest—including Federer—is quite pronounced.

“His backhand’s good. His serve’s good. His forehand’s good. His movement is good. He does everything really, really well,” Murray said after being picked apart by Nadal in a straight-set semifinal.

And Murray went on to add this: “He’s one of the greatest players ever.”

For years, Federer was No. 1, Nadal was No. 2, and no one else was even close. They combined to win 17 of 18 Grand Slam titles in one stretch. But it appears to be a fading rivalry, because their last match against each other at a major tournament was 1 1/2 years ago.

Indeed, right now, Nadal is alone at the top, much the way the woman who is No. 1 and won Wimbledon, Serena Williams, has distanced herself from the pack—in the rankings and on the court.

Williams won all 14 sets she played at the All England Club this year and set a tournament record with 89 aces. She’s won five of the last eight Grand Slam titles. The only other woman who’s reached two major finals in that span is Dinara Safina. She lost both, then made a first-round exit at the French Open in May and withdrew from Wimbledon with a back injury.

Williams’ older sister Venus is now 30, hasn’t won a Grand Slam tournament in two years, didn’t make it past the quarterfinals at the last four majors, and dropped to No. 4 in Monday’s rankings.

“It’s not just about how many Slams you win or how many tournaments you win—it’s just your game overall. And [Serena's] definitely got all the goods,” 18-time major champion Martina Navratilova said. “It would have been fun to play her, but at the same time, I’m glad that I didn’t have to.”

Nadal, meanwhile, is 31-1 with five titles since mid-April. Not only has he regained the top ranking, but as of Monday, Federer slipped to No. 3 for the first time since November 2003. And after reaching a record 23 consecutive Grand Slam semifinals, 16-time major champion Federer has lost in the quarterfinals at two majors in a row.

Nadal now stands halfway to Federer’s record total. By managing the tricky transition from clay to grass and following up his fifth championship at the French Open with his second at Wimbledon, Nadal is up to eight major trophies, including the 2009 Australian Open.

Bjorn Borg was the French Open and Wimbledon champion in 1978, 1979 and 1980, but nobody else won both in the same season for the next 27 years. Now it’s been done three times in a row: by Nadal in 2008, Federer in 2009, and Nadal again.

“So if you really want to play well in one surface, and you are a good player,” Nadal said. “I think in the end, [you're] going to find a way.”

After easily beating Tomas Berdych 6-3, 7-5, 6-4 in Sunday’s Wimbledon final, Nadal was asked about chasing Federer’s Grand Slam record.

“Eight more? That’s too complicated…too hard,” Nadal said. “I never imagined I’d have eight Grand Slam titles today, at 24 years old.”

That’s right: Nadal is only 24, and he already owns the same number of major championships as Andre Agassi, Jimmy Connors and Ivan Lendl did when they retired—and one more than John McEnroe.

What must be daunting for Nadal’s contemporaries is that he keeps getting better and better.

His serve was once considered a liability. Not any more. Against Berdych, Nadal saved all four break points he faced. Against Soderling in the Roland Garros final a month ago, Nadal went 8 for 8 when he was a point from losing serve.

So what’s the secret? After all, Nadal’s average speed on first serves Sunday was 115 m.p.h., 10 m.p.h. slower than Berdych’s.

“My percentage is high. That’s important, especially on this kind of surface, on grass,” Nadal said Sunday night in an interview while being driven away from the All England Club. “And then, I think, my first shot after the serve is a good one, normally—that first forehand is a good one, and that’s a big advantage.”

Ah, yes, that forehand. Nadal whips it fiercely, lathering it with spin. That helped him accumulate a 14-4 edge in baseline winners Sunday.

It is hit, of course, with his left hand. Nadal, though, is naturally a righty, which is the hand he used to sign autographs for fans after the final. When he first began playing tennis, he would hit two-handed shots off both sides, but at about 9 or 10, he and his uncle decided he should play lefty.

Now Nadal will take a couple of weeks off to rest, relax, get treatment for his right knee, and get ready for the next challenge: the U.S. Open, which begins Aug. 30. That’s the only major title missing from his résumé.

Win that, and he’ll join Federer, Agassi and the four other men who own career Grand Slams.

Williams is one of nine women who’ve done that, and she’ll be favored to keep adding to her major total in New York. She already owns 13 Grand Slam trophies, six more than any other active woman.

“She’s just head and shoulders above everybody else,” Navratilova said, “and those are pretty broad shoulders.”

The same could be said about Nadal.

by Pete Bodo

I have a date with Serena Williams. That’s the good news. The bad news is that it’s in 10 years, by which time I might be coyote bait. So someone prepare to act as my stand-in. It all started in the press conference after Serena’s stunning 6-3, 6-2 win over Vera Zvonareva in the ladies’ singles championship match here at Wimbledon (see match report, in the next post down).

At one point in that interview, someone asked Serena if she had a career timetable; did she always think she’d still be playing tennis at 28?

She replied, “Who knows? I’m always trying to stay healthy and do the best I can. I never think about how long I’m going to play.”

I couldn’t help but blurt out, “Is there a chance you’ll still be playing at 38?”

“If I am,” she replied, “I want you to personally take me off and escort me off the court. There’s no way I need to be out here at 38.”

But let’s remember that very, very few of the great players ever quit the game as early as they once thought they would. Not by choice. Tennis is in a dominant champion’s blood. Heck, it’s in even a journeyman’s blood, although probably for more practical reasons. So I thought this might be a good subject to return to when a handful of us met with Serena later in the day, in a small-group round table.

It was an informal, friendly session, and Serena was at her best, as she often is in those smaller environments. She talked about how much she envied the other children, growing up, when on hot summer days they would all be chasing the ice cream truck, or swimming, while Venus and Serena endured grueling two-a-day training sessions on the burning asphalt courts.

“When you’re young,” she said, softly, “You don’t think about that kind of thing. Yeah. I remember, dad would go next door to little liquor store and get us whatever new sports drink they had. . . you have all those memories, all that hard work, and when it pays off, those are the moments you really remember.”

Serena cited some of those memories at Wimbledon this week. When we asked how she’d developed that serve, the greatest ever in the women’s game, the one that she rode to the title—her 13th major—today, she laughed and averred that when her father Richard was watching, she and Venus would hit serves. Then when his back was turned, they would just talk and giggle the way little girls do, about little things.

They come a long, long way, all of these youngsters. And Venus and Serena further than most. Which is why it seemed so puzzling when, as all players invariably do, either of the sisters seemed to stress the “other” things they do, when they sought to develop sides of themselves and interests that had nothing to do with that little optic yellow ball.

But in tennis, as Andre Agassi can tell you, you can always go home again. Hateful and embittering and demanding and harsh and debilitating as the game can often seem, it’s always there, waiting for you to give it a go.

Serena seems to be discovering that, and it’s cause for smiling. She put it this way: “It is difficult. i used to not want to have much to do with it. But the older I get, I realize I would like to be involved, in some sort of way. Maybe I’ll do a ‘fashion special,’ go behind the scenes. Do something that’s never been done before. That would be cool.”

So, are we witnessing a reconciliation of the kind we saw with Agassi? Well let’s not get carried away, but she’s off to a good start, what with her charitable activities in Africa, her crossover appeal (is there a more potent,  potential role model for young girls, and most particularly African-American girls, than either Williams sister?) and continuing ability to plaster 125 mph aces all over the court, and otherwise play the kind of tennis that can make you forget the familiar, sex-based DMZ that exists between the tours. I think Serena is beginning to see the convergence of different tributaries in her life.

“This (tennis) is what I do,” she said. “This is definitely my core, the breadmaker. I don’t want to lose sight of that. I want to continue doing it.”

Does that mean that she enjoys tennis more now than she did during that recent period of discontent?  “No,” she answered, honestly. “I don’t think I can ever like tennis more than that first two years on the tour. Everything was new. You see all the people you grew up watching. You might even end up playing a few of them (in her case, Steffi Graf, who Serena admired and not only played but defeated). That atmosphere, it’s an amazing feeling and nothing can match that.”

Another reporter rekindled the question from the original presser. Where do you see yourself in 20 years? In a nice house in some suburb, with five kids running around?

“At the rate I’m going, probably not,” she replied, in one of those signature Serena moments. “I won’t be able to live. . . I’ll probably still be living with Venus in 10 years. Yeah, live together with some dogs. I can’t quite picture it (the suburbs, the kids). I would love. . . my dream was always to have a ton of dogs, live with them. I’ve proven myself difficult to live with.”

Not for us, you haven’t. It’s been mostly good, and still getting better all the time.

The little gathering ended on that note, and as everyone switched off his tape recorder and rose to go, Serena said to me, “Remember, we have a date in 10 years.”

I laughed.

“I mean it,” she said, “You be there, with all the equipment, ready to take me off.”

“I’ll have a walker, or a wheel chair ready for you. I’ll be standing by.”

“Alright. Just remember.”

Like I could forget. I’m going going on eBay, tonight. And marking my calendar.

WIMBLEDON, England (AP)—Vania King of the United States and Yaroslava Shvedova of Kazakhstan never had set foot inside Centre Court, let alone played there, before the Wimbledon women’s doubles final Saturday.

So the entire experience was a thrill, topped by becoming the fifth unseeded team to win the championship. King and Shvedova beat singles runner-up Vera Zvonareva and Elena Vesnina of Russia 7-6 (6), 6-2.

“I’m sure for both of us, it really hasn’t gotten in our heads that we just won Wimbledon,” said King, who is from California and now lives in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. “But maybe tomorrow or maybe next week. So, yeah, I think, I mean, right now, I don’t know what to say.”

Chimed in Shvedova, the first player from Kazakhstan to win a Wimbledon title: “We’re shocked.”

It was the tournament’s first women’s doubles final between two unseeded pairs since 1975.

The match was played a few hours after Zvonareva lost the singles final to Serena Williams 6-3, 6-2. The Russian was in tears before the second set of the doubles match began and again afterward.

Being out on Centre Court caused some shakiness early on for King and Shvedova, but they saved a set point in the tiebreaker and then pulled away.

“Our first time seeing it and first time playing on it,” King said.

She noted that their coaches might have been “more nervous than we were” and that Shvedova’s coach “had a beer before the match to relax.”

WIMBLEDON, England (AP)—Getting set to accept her latest Wimbledon trophy, Serena Williams lifted both arms and held aloft 10 fingers. Then, raising only her right hand, she wiggled three more fingers, bringing the total count to 13.

That’s how many Grand Slam singles titles Williams owns as of Saturday.

“I thought, ‘I hope I got the number right,”’ she said. “You know me: I tend to forget.”

That’s OK, Serena. The way you’re accumulating championships, it’s tough to keep track.

With a superb serve that had other greats of the game gushing, and plenty of offense and defense to back it up, the No. 1-ranked Williams overwhelmed No. 21 Vera Zvonareva of Russia 6-3, 6-2 in Saturday’s final to win her fourth Wimbledon title and, yes, 13th major tournament overall.

That’s the most among active women and gives Williams sole possession of sixth place on the all-time list, breaking a tie with her former U.S. Fed Cup captain, Billie Jean King. Addressing King, who was in the front row of the Royal Box, Williams said: “Hey, Billie, I got you! This is No. 13 for me now. It’s just amazing to able to be among such great people.”

The American did not drop a set over two dominant weeks at the All England Club.

She’s won five of the last eight Grand Slam tournaments, including two in a row at Wimbledon, where she also was champion in 2002-03. Williams and her older sister Venus have won nine of the past 11 titles at the grass-court Grand Slam tournament.

“Everywhere we look, there’s another Wimbledon trophy,” Williams said, rolling her eyes. “I’m, like, ‘Ugh, not one of those again.”’

Williams was kidding, of course. Maybe she also was joking when she said Friday that she’d prepare for the final by relaxing and watching the TV show “Desperate Housewives.” In the end, her victory over Zvonareva lasted only slightly longer than an episode—67 minutes—and was rather short on drama.

Both women hit the ball with plenty of force from the baseline, and both grunted loudly, the noise reverberating through the arena. After 21 minutes, they were tied at 3-all. Zvonareva was hanging in there despite being the second-lowest-ranked woman to play in a Wimbledon final.

Then, turning it on, Williams reeled off eight of the next nine games to seize complete control and add to her collection of championships, which includes five Australian Opens, three U.S. Opens and one French Open. She brings her best when it counts the most: Her only other title of 2010 came at the Australian Open in January; she was sidelined all of February, March and April with a left knee injury.

Margaret Smith Court leads the way with 24 major titles, followed by Steffi Graf with 22, Helen Wills Moody with 19, and Martina Navratilova and Chris Evert with 18 apiece.

So where does Williams rank among the best women’s tennis players through the years?

“Top five,” answered Navratilova, without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s not just about how many Slams you win or how many tournaments you win—it’s just your game overall. And she’s definitely got all the goods. It would have been fun to play her, but at the same time, I’m glad that I didn’t have to.”

Of all her skills, Williams’ serve is the most impressive. Growing up in Compton, Calif., she found practicing serves so boring that she and Venus would chat when their father’s back was turned, then resume hitting balls when he’d check on them.

Navratilova, who watched the final from a front-row seat, called Williams’ serve “astonishing,” the best ever for a woman.

Williams pounded serves at up to 122 mph and hit nine aces Saturday, taking her tournament total to a Wimbledon-record 89, 17 more than the mark she established last year. It’s not simply about speed; Williams varies angles, spins, spots.

“She always changes it,” Zvonareva said.

Williams never faced a break point and won 31 of 33 points when her first serve went in. She double-faulted three times, but followed each of the first two with an ace. Zvonareva also pointed out that because Williams knows she’s successful holding serve, she returns more aggressively.

Indeed, Williams broke Zvonareva three times, including to go up 5-3 by curling a forehand passing winner on the run, then dropping to her right knee and raising a fist.

The second set began with Williams breaking again, when Zvonareva netted three consecutive groundstrokes, then spun around and shrieked. Zvonareva has a reputation for being temperamental—sobbing during points, even—but, at age 25, she says she’s more mature these days. Draping a towel over her head during changeovers to make sure she stayed focused, Zvonareva got past former No. 1s Jelena Jankovic and Kim Clijsters this week en route to her first Grand Slam final.

As Saturday’s match became increasingly lopsided, though, Zvonareva began to unravel. When she double-faulted to fall behind 4-1, she angrily smacked a ball before heading to the sideline. In the next game, Zvonareva slapped her left thigh with a palm and whacked her right thigh with her racket, muttering all the while.

After Williams ended the match with an overhead, Zvonareva plopped down in her chair and wiped away tears with her towel. Later Saturday, Zvonareva bawled while losing the women’s doubles final, too.

Zvonareva and partner Elena Vesnina eliminated the Williams sisters in the quarterfinals. Perhaps that’s why Zvonareva replied, “Of course,” when asked if the younger Williams is beatable.

“She’s a human being. She’s not a machine,” Zvonareva said. “I mean, it’s very difficult to beat her. You have to play your best—but if you do, you can do it.”

Williams wouldn’t allow that. She accumulated a 29-9 edge in winners, a reflection of her fantastic shotmaking and her ability to cover every blade of Centre Court’s grass.

Williams improved to 13-3 in major finals; half of the 16 were against her sister. Zvonareva only once before went as far as the semifinals at any Grand Slam tournament and never was past the fourth round at Wimbledon until this year.

“I did not show my best today, and it’s a bit disappointing, because it’s the final,” Zvonareva said. “You know, you don’t reach the Wimbledon final every day.”

Well, if you’re a Williams, you do reach one nearly every year. Ten of the past 11 women’s Wimbledon finals included at least one of the sisters; they played each other for the title four times.

This year, though, Venus lost in the quarterfinals, and she already was home in Florida before Saturday. So Serena took center stage, and as she walked through the All England Club carrying the champion’s plate, she spun around and kicked up her heels.

“I was really feeling Frank Sinatra-ish—‘Come Fly With Me,’ ‘Fly Me To The Moon,”’ she explained. “Old-style dance—that’s what I felt like at the moment.”

The 28-year-old Williams has been criticized in the past for not paying enough attention to her tennis career, for dabbling in acting and clothes design.

It’s clear, however, that she is as good as it gets right now, and could be for some time.

“That’s always been a goal of hers, I guess, to be the best,” said her mother, Oracene Price. “And to not lose. She hates losing.”

That was never much of a concern Saturday.