Heroic effort from the old man to claw back into the match when down 5-3 with Djokovic serving for the match, and winning 5 games in a row to take the set.
But the manner in which he lost the final set (and the match) was just heartbreaking. That missed smash leaves plenty of questions of what could've been, if only... I'm pretty convinced that this was his last chance to win a slam and he came so close, but it was not to be.
The thing about being a fan of a particular sports team or player is that it is irrational in and of itself. There is no reason why the victory or failure of a team or an individual, all of whom are strangers to you, should bring you joy or sadness; there is no reason why any of it even matters. But it matters, somehow; it matters enough to make an impact in your personal life, however slight. It matters enough that I feel significantly heartbroken by this defeat because he came so close and fought so hard, just to have it all end with a runner-up plate and a single tear down the cheek of a great champion.
I'm so disappointed. I really wanted him to win. I wish it had turned out differently...but I'm still proud of him for fighting so hard for the break back in the 4th and taking it, and pushing Djokovic - 6 years his junior, new World #1 - to the edge and making him earn this title. Roger was playing his forehand at maybe 20% of its full power, using it as a rallying shot half the time; his decline was never so obvious as it was in the shocking meekness of his forehand. To think that he almost won. It's amazing, the mere thought of it, and I can't help but wish that he'd won.
I will never like another tennis player or sporting figure as much as I like Roger Federer. He combines effortless elegance with a quietly ferocious fighting spirit, and impeccable sportsmanship. There is no one like him, and there will be no one else like him. He is in a league of his own.
I spent the weekend at Wouter's despite being absolutely fucked for the QLTS which is happening on Thursday. We ended up staying in to watch Netherlands vs. Costa Rica. It went to penalties. He was pissed off and nervous before the whistle blew at the end of extra time. It was really amusing seeing him like that; I hardly ever get to see him angry and agitated. It was adorable actually. Thank god the Dutch won; Costa Rica winning would've been a massive injustice. They were a bit of a joke. I barely got to see the Dutch keeper and their own keeper couldn't go 5 seconds without the ball flying in his direction. At one point they had 0 corner kicks to the Dutch's 7 or something. Real scoreline should've been 2-0 if the Dutch hadn't got unlucky with the goalpost a couple of times.
I'm glad that he gets into these games because he didn't judge me for acting crazy during the Wimbledon final. I was yelling at the TV, cursing at it, shrieking at ridiculous unforced errors (e.g. third set tie-break: Fed hits a massive first serve down the T and gets the weak reply that he wants; with way too much adrenaline, he charges forward for the put-away forehand...just to hit it long. What the fuck), and fistpumping like an idiot. I think we make a pretty good pair.
Still, he only had to suffer 2 hours or so. I suffered for 4 hours. He suffered for 2 hours and his team won in the end. I suffered for 4 hours and my guy lost in the most heartbreaking way imaginable - and it was a final.
He was so sweet throughout and after, like he always is. I freaked out about the stupid test and got into a depressed funk and he held me, let me cry, said encouraging things. Can't believe how amazing he is.
I came back to The Hague in jeans and my Advantage Federer t-shirt (wore it proud). I think the fucking wind has ruined me. I have to go to bed. I feel so sick now.