3 years is a long time. In life, and perhaps a bit more so in tennis.

3 years ago, Federer still looked pretty much invincible sans a gnarly kid from Majorca. I woke up our first kid while watching him beating Djokovich in the final.

Who would’ve thought that was the beginning of the end. Not the least Johnny Mac.

Last year he got a break from the knees of the gnarly kid from Majorca.

Come 2010. Oh boy. Even the Gods can’t bear not seeing him in US Open final. Only for a day, though, as tomorrow the sun will shine on a gnarly kid from Majorca, except that he’s not a kid any more, and he’s truly gnarly now.

Both J and I had the same thought as we witnessed the inevitable loss. It’s better than winning because he doesn’t stand a chance against the gnarly man from Majorca.

Still, at the 2nd-to-last game when Djoker hit it wide to yield 2 match points, I called “OUT!” in ecstasy.

It woke up our 3rd kid sleeping in the same bouncer at the same location.

That’s exactly what you call “deja vu all over again”.

Except that he’s not making any record this time.

And he’s not going to break Sampras’s total number of weeks at No. 1, even though he’s only one week short.

Unless he makes an Andre-esque comeback in another 3 years, after the gnarly man from Majorca and Djoker and Söderling and whoever else all burn out Borg-ishly.

Count on me being at the court side of Arthur Ashe when that happens.

For only one thing is absolutely certain: there won’t be any new infant in our family to be disturbed.