It is possible to become so seduced by the loveliness of Wimbledon that you become blind to anything that is wrong with it. You start to chuckle at that Centre Court pigeon as if it’s a Seinfeld box set and regard a tossed racket as the end of times. You smell the flowers, listen to Cliff and become convinced the entire world is a manicured lawn. Prick the Wimbledon bubble, though, and this has been far from a classic year.
Of course there are good bits. Christopher Eubanks has been a breath of fresh air, Carlos Alcaraz is a star and if you have not warmed to Elina Svitolina’s story you must lack a pulse. But overall it has been decidedly flat, bereft of classic
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Eubanks levels against Medvedev, Jabeur sets up Sabalenka semi