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ShareThen, he appeared to lose his domination. One challenger was a more than worthy opponent. The Mallorcan with a feisty game, the clay court player par excellence, Rafael Nadal. It was Nadal who stopped Federer from winning that one elusive grand slam title -- the French Open at Roland Garros, Paris, played on clay -- that he needed to reach Goat status. Because even the great Pete Sampras, that monument to tennis, does not have a French Open title in his record-making haul of 14.
The question mark always remained for Sampras. Federer, everyone said, was greater, but where was his French Open? Well, he has it now. He has a Grand Slam title from all the four and on all the surfaces. He has equalled Sampras with 14. He's made one kind of history and stands on the brink of making some more. But it has been a journey filled with exhilaration and pain, for him and for us, the fans.
In 2008, he lost his World number one status to Nadal. He has already lost his Australian Open crown to Novak Djokovic in January that year, he then lost his much-prized Wimbledon crown to Nadal. He was pulverised by Nadal at the French Open final. He managed to stave off the challenge from a young Andy Murray to hang on to his US Open title.
He did not win the year-ending Masters tournament. Anyone who so desired, it appeared, could defeat the once invincible Roger Federer. Within seconds, the vultures were out looking for his carcass and the mantle passed on to Nadal.
Take a look at the newspapers and TV reports of the past couple of days. Nadal is practically forgotten and the emperor Federer, it seems, is back on the throne. But us fans, we know the truth. We despaired once at the fickleness of the shallow vultures and we look on them with disdain now.
The vultures, they picked on us as well as on him. They forced us to defend his greatness, when, even then in those bad times, his greatness was never in question. He had already achieved that. He had proved his worthiness. But the vultures wanted more. Many of the eminent thinkers of the 20th century have bemoaned the lack of application that advancement of technology has forced on the human race. We no longer do, we sit in our homes and watch others do.
We have exchanged human endeavour and adventure for the lazy comfort of being a spectator. Those clever Greeks all those years ago, though, knew that we relive ourselves through sport. The Romans added the death twist to the game -- blood is a great adrenaline builder and soother, it seems. Look at the success of professional wrestling as a TV spectacle.
But a real test of character is when the one you revere is attacked. Do you change allegiances? Do you burn down his house? Do you cry into your pillow? Or do you keep the faith and know that redemption will come? Well, you may think you know and you may hope but you have no way of actually knowing what will happen. Faith sometimes just helps you to keep the bogeyman at bay and hope is just thinking that the half-empty glass is half-full. This is not, after all, religion. It is admiration of human achievement.
And now, vindication comes. So, to all the fans, we who suffered together, I say yes! Victory is sweet. To those friends who mocked, I return with childish glee to my old childhood friend Molesworth and say, yar boo sucks! Please don't find a hero, because I'm waiting...
