With no more excuses to fawn over Andy Murray, the British press needed to appoint a larger-than-life figure from Sunday's Wimbledon final, which, just one year after the Nadal-Federer epic, was "possibly the greatest, gutsiest attempted larceny the old tournament has ever seen." (That's sort of comparable to The Greatest Match Ever Played, I suppose.) Fortunately for the royal hacks, they had their choice of Roddick and Federer to laud. Most chose Federer. Some brave few extolled Roddick in a rather surprising twist heretofore not seen in canonical British literature.

Martin Samuel, Daily Mail:

Roddick made a mockery of that presumption, of so many presumptions in fact, firstly that it required his A game to beat Murray in the semi-final. As we now know, it was only his B-plus performance. Herewas Roddick's peak this year, perhaps even in his career, and that Federer still found the wit and strength to defeat him over 30 games in the final set is what puts him apart as a champion.

‘How would you describe what you did here today?' Roddick was asked. ‘I lost,' he deadpanned. And, yes, he did, and nothing else matters to such a competitor. Yet, for once, the black and white cannot be allowed to tell the whole story.

Roger Federer is now beyond debate the greatest tennis player there has been and we know this because after four hours and 17 minutes and 77 games on July 5, 2009, he was fractionally better than Andy Roddick. And if he wasn't the greatest player in the history of the sport he would not have been. It is as simple as that.

James Lawton, The Independent

When Roddick, the 26-year-old Texan who last Friday gave Britain's prospective Grand Slam hero Andy Murray an ultimate lesson in the need to go all the way beyond what you thought was your deepest possible commitment, finally surrendered 14-16 in the fifth set which stretched the match into its fifth hour, he had almost literally been played to a standstill.

However, if it happens that the US Open title he won six years ago – in that hiatus between the glory of Sampras, whose record mark of 14 Grand Slam titles was passed by Federer last night – and the rise of the man who in the end had just a little too much of everything, he has something to tell the grandchildren who are likely to gather around him one day.

He can tell them that he once challenged one of the greatest sportsman who ever lived to fight as he had hardly ever fought before.

...

He had created his impeccable history, something beyond revision or doubt. He accomplished all he had hoped. Roddick? He took his own place in the annals of the game. It is that place where the fighters reside, the men who make the challenge ultimately so worthwhile.

Neil Harman, The Times

Roddick went back to his chair, dropped his racket at his feet and stared at the ground, to be roused by shouts of "Roddick, Roddick". Not even in New York, at home, where he won his ground-breaking first grand-slam title in 2003, had the crowd reacted to him so. He rose and applauded them back. One hoped that at home, the Americans were raising their chilled beers to him. He had been heroic, he had been human, he had given all he had.

Federer was about to raise the cup again. Glory, glory to the champion. Roddick had lost, but he hadn't really.

Ah, there's the moral victory that Roddick wouldn't acknowledge, but the press was all too giddy to bestow on him. But in reality, Roddick was a winner — for British bettors:

chickendinner tipped A-Rod to reach the final, which if you bet with Paddy Power as we advised would have earned you a £50 return on a £5 E/W stake, although it could have been £145 if he hadn't tired at the end.

The wienerschnitzel's on me if you can put that into proper English.

Only the greatest could have won against Roddick [Daily Mail]
Roddick's courage ensures an epic finale [The Independent]
Crazy Sunday afternoon leaves Roddick a broken man [The Times]
Heroic Andy Roddick nets chickendinner a tidy profit [chickendinner]

But what sets Roddick apart from many other millionaires with heavy endorsements and wives that look that this, is his genuine likability. Today's loss at Wimbledon had to be crippling, yet he still managed to muster enough strength and dignity to charm the crap out of everyone during his post-match Centre Court interview. He's no longer the young phenom, destined to dominate men's tennis for years, but he's also become someone who you will always pull for. He's playing better than ever, so I'm sure we'll eventually get to see Roddick win a second Grand Slam title. It just would have been nice to see him win this one.

PHOTO: Yahoo!

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Hope you had a great holiday weekend. See you tomorrow all bright, shiny and new.

Andy Roddick controlled Roger Federer for the first 50 minutes of Wimbledon, up 1-0, cruising through the second set tie-break 6-1, but then, as is typical of Federer/Roddick matches, things fall apart. A couple of deceptive serves by Federer, a couple of face-slapping bonks by Roddick at the net, Federer pulled out the tiebreak, and, it was at that point, you saw Andy's hopes of a Wimbledon upset seemingly disintegrate. But, miraculously, he hung in, pushing it to a fifth set that lasted forever. Federer whittled down Roddick to a sweaty nub with his unflinching, surgical style. After, you know, 85 hours. But, damn, this was epic.

Consolatory reality: Roddick played extraordinary in this match-up and proved he's capable of competing with the cyborg nature of Federer. But once again it'll be a champagne party at Gavin Rossdale's.

And no thanks to NBC Sports whose shitty-ass live feed decided to conk out in the 5th set. If that Traveler's Insurance dog is not being set on fire because of this, I will do it myself.

But here's a little something for Andy Roddick anyway.

And good afternoon. Hope the holiday treated you patriotically. And we can finally start the day.

Venus is going for her third straight (and sixth career) Wimbledon singles title, while Serena is trying to up her Grand Slam finals record against big sis to 6-2 (and she's got two Wimbledon titles herself). The sisters have met 20 times previously on tour; they've each won 10 of 'em.

But does this sibling rivalry manifest itself away from tennis? Not really, says Venus: "We're not that competitive off court, she just tricks me a lot. But I'm getting hip to that now. We'll be in the store, I'll try something on and she'll say 'that doesn't look good'. As soon as I put it down, she'll put it on".

Said an eye-rolling Wladimir Klitschko: "Tell me about it, sister."

Venus and Serena are currently in a tiebreak in the first set.

UPDATE: Serena wins. That last game was kind of exciting...I guess.

I won't show sister Serena any mercy in Wimbledon final, says Venus [Daily Record]

Even American schoolchildren know "God Save The Queen." Same melody as "My Country 'Tis of Thee." God save our gracious Queen, long live our noble Queen, crown us a Wimbledon champion, etc. Lyrics aren't important when Reilly, his pink tie punctuating his Wimbledon whites, is narrating the video essay. The soundtrack matters most — the music must connote England in all its royal glory.

Which is why it was probably a mistake to run "Das Deutschlandlied" — also known as "Das Lied der Deutschen," in case that rings a bell — instead of the most recognizable song in England.

Take a bloody look for yourself, and let's just hope the ol' chaps who run Wimbledon can differentiate between the two anthems if Murray scores the Grand Slam title Sunday. Sir Winston Churchill would be so proud.

Hope For The Brits [ESPN]
Best on-air mistake ever [SportsJournalists.com]

The men's game relegates the Centre Court to top competitors, but fans of the women's game may have noticed the lassies trotting out there on Friday were none other than Victoria Azarenka of Belarus battling against Romania's Sorana Cirstea. Cirstea was seeded 28 while Azarenka is ranked and seeded eighth. Oh and who was shoved over to Court 2? Serena Williams and Italian Roberta Vinci.

The move to put the sexpottier gals on Centre Court is supposedly being done to keep BBC viewers happy — even the ones who don't like tennis, but may enjoy watching buxom 19-year-old girls in mini-skirts knocking around yellow balls.

The network denies any involvement in the court selection. They'll take it though:

'It's the Wimbledon play committee, not us who decides on the order of play.But obviously it's advantageous to us if there are good-looking women players on Centre Court.

And to make matters worse, The Daily Mail has included a delightful photo spread indicating which ladies are Centre Court-caliber players and the Marla Hooches doomed to the side courts. This seems like the type of story that may upset a few people.

Babe, set and match: Why looks count for more than talent when Wimbledon decides which girls will play on Centre Court [Daily Mail]

You can pick your mixed doubles partner, but you can't pick your nose — at least with the eyes of a nation desperate for tennis success upon you. The twin gods of decorum and hygiene frowned on their act, and Brits Ross Hutchins and Anne Keothavong were bounced in the first round.

You know who wasn't bounced? A bunch of Americans. And with the biggest soccer match in our history later today, this could be our chance to show the world that we're not just good at diplomacy and humility, but pretty decent at sports too. U-S-A! U-S-A!

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You can't pick your nose, and you can't pick your weekend editor. Hi, I'll be steering the good ship S.S. Deadspin today. You might remember me from three glorious years of the dog and pony show that is the dog show, or perhaps from the time Ryan Howard tried to knight me with his dork, or maybe even for embarrassing myself on Jeopardy! a few months back.

Good Sunday morning. Let's get dirty and gritty.

First, we'll start by answering reader Bill's question with another question: Where do you go when you want to do a cursory search of someone else's biography? Wikipedia, of course. And the first line of Dulkos' entry in itself is a gold mine. It's where we unearth Dulko's nickname: The Incredible Dulk. Couldn't have done it better myself.

We also learn that Dulko prefers doubles — she won three of the Grand Slams as a junior — and while she has struggled in professional singles, her three-set win over Sharapova in the second round at Wimbledon could be her coming out party.

Like Sharapova, The Incredible Dulk is the subject of gossip fodder — especially in Australia, even though she's from Argentina. The two press clips worth reading about the reason you won't see Maria Sharapova in all whites for another year:

Sunday Age, Melbourne, Australia

Whatever damage Lleyton Hewitt and Juan Ignacio Chela did to Australian- Argentine relations, the splendiferously lithe Gisela Dulko repaired with one smile at the Hopman Cup. Even the Fanatics were prepared to forgive and forget as Dulko laughed her way through the mixed doubles with Chela, and the crowd clapped heartily. Her boyfriend is Chilean Fernando Gonzalez - last year's popular Australian Open runner-up. The couple are popular in South America, too - at Christmas, Gonzalez and Dulka visited "Las Rosas", a community of 2500 elderly people in Santiago. "The elder people congratulated Fernando for the girlfriend he has," explains a Gonzalez fan website. "They gave him presents, poems and songs to congratulate him."

The Age, Melbourne, Australia

Dulko's appeal is raw; her name is the focus of more internet searches than her ranking of 51 might deserve, some finishing with links to her boyfriend, men's world No.15 Fernando Gonzalez, others to generic websites showing "pictures of the sexy women of sports".

Next up for Dulko in the ladies' draw is Nadia Petrova.

UPDATE: Turns out, the photo we originally used isn't Dulko. The new one is.

Sharapova upset at Wimbledon [AP]

Yesterday, I was directed to the startling Wimbledon story by New York Times writer William Rhoden, where he went to the event, saw the first two sets of Nadal/Federer and then, amazingly, decided that Rafael Nadal's victory was inevitable, so he decided to go to the movies with his wife instead. From his piece:

Who thought that in a stretch of 24 hours, Venus Williams’s great accomplishment — a fifth women’s singles championship — would be dwarfed by a tennis marathon?

Who thought? Not us. So we watched as Nadal took a commanding two-set lead, concluded that this was Nadal’s day and decided to take in a movie, “Hancock.”

Will Smith is grateful for Rhoden's contribution to his weekend box office numbers, but plenty of other people are not.

The livid e-mails poured in yesterday. One in particular, from a popular author who chooses to remain nameless, was especially angry. Here's a snippet:

This should not be used as evidence that bloggers are righteous or smart or anything. But it is an example of a columnist at the most prestigious newspaper in the country who is either burned out on his job, or just negligent, or simply has been doing the same thing for too long to give a rat's ass.

It should be noted that Rhoden has written some incredible pieces and has a brilliant body of work at the Times. At the very least, it seemed baffling that the Times would actually run this story. What's that phone call to his editor like? "Hey, here's the hook: I was at the greatest tennis match in the history of sports and I walked out to go see "Hancock." Yeah! I'm that guy! Can you believe it?" Maybe it makes sense from that angle, but you get the sense that was a story he wasn't planning to write. But should his bone-headed judgment cost him his job?

(Update: No. He shouldn't lose his job. Dumb question. Rhoden was "vacationing" and just happened to be there. (Or, not, rather.) So swords should be sheathed.)

Dude...Seriously? [One More Dying Quail]
Revoke His Press Credential [Counter-Punch]

Brough Scott, from the Telegraph UK, was a bit more dignified and chose to go all Wordsworth on everyone's asses:

• "It ended in darkness but the pair of them had given us a blazing, eternal light. No sport, no playwright, has conjured up such magical theatre as those last three games as Rafa finally found his moment and threw himself triumphantly back on to the dew-gathering Wimbledon turf."

The NY Times' William Rhoden got into the act as well, dubbing Nadal "the muscled young prince" and then ended his essay with this statement:

•On this rainy, gusty Sunday afternoon, then evening, a young man had grown, in stature and legend.

Rafael Nadal, the prince, had become Wimbledon’s king.

It should be noted, however, that Rhoden, on assignment to cover the event in some capacity, didn't see the ending in person. No, he left the FUCKING FINALS MATCH AFTER TWO SETS TO GO SEE FUCKING "Hancock."

• More Britishisms. This time from William Hill gambling parlor spokesman Graham Sharpe:

"What you have here are two players at the peak of their powers and popularity. "They are almost a tennis soap opera - traditional Federer appeals to the mums and dads with his cardigan, and Nadal is the modern sex symbol, appealing to kids with his sleeveless vests."

The kids do love those sleeveless vests. That and their noisy rock and roll music.

• The blog "The Millions" paid tribute to yesterday's match by referencing David Foster Wallace's genius NY Times magazine essay "Federer As Religious Experience", in an effort better emphasize all that television spectators missed out on yesterday.

At least not entirely. TV tennis has its advantages, but these advantages have disadvantages, and chief among them is a certain illusion of intimacy. Television's slow-mo replays, its close-ups and graphics, all so privilege viewers that we're not even aware of how much is lost in broadcast. And a large part of what's lost is the sheer physicality of top tennis, a sense of the speeds at which the ball is moving and the players are reacting.

If he watched yesterday, Wallace could easily pump out 14,000 words on Federer vs. Nadal 2008. Maybe even without footnotes.

John McEnroe Hails Rafael Nadal victory as Greatest Match Ever [Telegraph UK]

A battle of wills that takes the game to a new level [Telegraph UK]

Rafael Nadal As Religious Experience [The Millions]

Rafael Nadal seemingly had won the 2008 Wiimbledon championship at three different moments during the epic nearly 5 hour match against Roger Federer. After two rain delays, two tiebreaker sets, and a final set sudden death where both he and Roger just sucked the life out of each other, it appeared at one point this match would never end — and that wouldn't have been a bad thing. It was the longest Wimbledon match in history and it's tough to imagine a better one will ever be played between two rivals at the top of their game.

Wimbledon officials were only going to allow it to go until 9:30 at night and as the last flickers of sunlight began to disappear at Centre Court, Rafael Nadal finally broke through and beat Federer 9-7 to win his first Wimbledon championship.

Dylan Stableford, resident tennis deuce-dropper at Deadspin, volunteered to live blog it this morning. But with the temperamental programming issues Gawker IT's experienced the past week, it didn't seem feasible and would've probably been more trouble than it was worth. Also, if he had live-blogged this event, it would've been at least 11,000 words.

Unfortunately, highlights won't do this Wimbleldon justice. If you watched it live, you should feel fortunate that you witnessed a match that will be talked about for years to come.

See you tomorrow.

Federer/Nadal Liveblog [Yahoo! Euro]

Nadal beats Federer in grueling five-set final [Independent UK]

Nadal Dethrones Federer In Classic Battle [AP]

Tomorrow at Wimbledon, keep an eye out for the two weirdos wandering around, freaking people out. Wimbledon isn't the first time the skin-faced duo has popped up at a high-profile event (they were also spotted at Elton John's White Tie ball, and a store opening with Kim Cattrall. Cattrall actually gave the faceless dude a hummer...) , but the reason behind their facelessness is still unknown. The Daily Mail offers up these possibilities:

Theories include the possibilities that they are limelight-seeking pranksters, performance artists or that they are at the centre of a viral marketing campaign for an as-yet unknown product of forthcoming horror film.

Faceless 'aliens' spotted in crowd at Wimbledon [Daily Mail]

Lucky for London, Richard Williams won't be causing any havoc in the stands, knocking straweberries out of bored spectator's hands. According to ESPN, he'll fly back to the United States on Friday and "doesn't plan to watch a single point of the final on television", because he can't bear to watch. Will Ferrell won't be there either, as far as I know.

Venus Rolls past Dementiva; Serena beats Zheng [ESPN]

Yes, Wimbledon has hired marksmen to shoot pigeons out of the sky before they can flap their dirty wings and evacuate droplets of white poo upon unsuspecting tennis pros and restaurant goers. Extreme? Yes. And PETA isn't happy with this approach:

The decision to call in the marksmen was condemned as "cruel and illegal behavior" by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, which complained to the tournament organizers and the police.

"Since the use of marksmen to kill pigeons appears to have been carried out as a first, rather than a last, resort and not out of a concern for public health but rather because the animals were deemed inconvenient by players, you appear to be in clear violation of the law," PETA vice president Bruce Friedrich said.

Now, I'm no tennis pro, but I think I'd find intermittent gunfire a little distracting during my serve as well.

Wimbledon Under Fire For Shooting Down Pigeons [Sports By Brooks]