Wimbledon final result: Alcaraz 5, Sinner 4, Kyrgios 0 after Wimbledon win that was written in the stars

The irrelevant Nick Kyrgios posted an asterisk on social media in a lame attempt to downgrade Jannik Sinner’s Wimbledon triumph. One might be more inclined to place an asterisk next to Kyrgios’s entire career.

Every point was sprinkled with magic dust. Every point counted. Every point mattered. Every point held sufficient poetry and personality for Lord Byron to have written it. Every word, every line, every stanza. Every point.

Jannik Sinner and Carlos Alcaraz could play at the Sydney Opera House, or Madison Square Garden, or Wembley, or the dusty old Lyric Theatre on Broadway, and they’d sell every seat before receiving ovations from the well-heeled, high-spirited lovers of entertainment as well as the high-heeled, well-spirited devotees of sport. Their latest performance came at a decent little joint called The All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club and, blow the trumpets, sound the horns, credit where it’s due, after umpteen roles as good and gracious loser, the most elegant player in tennis won the most graceful tournament in a 4-6 6-4 6-4 6-4 triumph of onomatopoeia and iambic pentameter.

Sinner celebrates after winning the Wimbledon final.

“It feels amazing. So special,” Sinner said after his first major triumph since his three-month doping ban. “It’s very emotional, even if I don’t cry. It feels emotional because only me and the people who are close to me know exactly what we’ve been through, on and off the court.

“It has been everything except easy. We’ve tried to push, you know, every practice session, but I was struggling at times mentally. Maybe even more in practice sessions because I feel like when I play the match, I can switch off and just play.

“To share this moment now with my family here, my whole family here, it’s the most amazing thing that could have happened to me, no?”

Alcaraz took the first set by winning a crisscrossing, mind-bending, muscle-flexing point that had ’em swooning in the aisles. He put a finger to his ear and a threw a fist to the sky. The Italian took the second set by winning another rally of thunderclap groundstrokes, insane athleticism and a forehand winner that had the ball shouting yippee. Sinner’s too introverted to ham it up but he quietly and rather beautifully clenched a fist while glaring with unshakeable intensity at his Australian coach, Darren Cahill.

Consider the backstory of Sinneraz. Consider! When Alcaraz beat Sinner in five sets before going on to win the 2022 US Open, Sinner was the good and gracious loser. Consider! When Alcaraz beat Sinner in five sets before going on to win last year’s French Open, Sinner was again the good and gracious loser. Consider! When Alcaraz beat Sinner in five rip-roaring, foot-stomping sets in the Roland Garros decider this year, the greatest tennis match ever played, Sinner once more tucked his racquet under his arm and accepted defeat with the dignity. There’s always been a problem with Sinner being a good and gracious loser, though. He’s been the loser.

Sinner reacts after winning a key point.

He won his first Wimbledon crown with a booming serve down the T. There was so much adrenaline and desperation in his veins that he thumped his fastest serve (220km/h) of the match. He stood mid-court like a colossus, his long, tarantula-like arms and legs seemingly filling the entire arena, and all of London, and most parts of Europe.

Sinner doesn’t hit a ball so much as he lassooes it. After the humiliation of his doping suspension, which I thought unfair, and the narkiness of folks like Nick Kyrgios, and the heartbreak of losing the unlosable French Open final to Alcaraz, he was now the greatest champion of all. The Wimbledon champion.

Asked if Cahill still planned to terminate their partnership by retiring at the end of the year, Sinner grinned: “It depends if I want to tell the truth or not. We made a bet before the final. I told him that if I won, I could choose whether he could stay or not at the end of the year. Now the choice is mine!

“I’ve always looked for an honest person who gives me a lot not only on the tennis court but also in life outside, both in success and in disappointments, and he’s fantastic at that. If I choose to stay with him, he probably won’t travel as much. That’s normal. I’ve always told him that in Australia I’d like to have him because things are going so well.”

Sinneraz is a supermassive rivalry. It’s just so good. A couple of top young dudes duking it out without histrionics, crudeness, gamesmanship, disrespect, abuse of ball kids, hounding of officials, expletives, smashed racquets, medical time-outs and all the other nincompoop nonsense occasionally blighting the tour.

Nick Kyrgios posted an asterisk on social media in a lame attempt to downgrade Sinner’s achievement. One might be more inclined to place an asterisk next to Kyrgios’s entire career. An asterisk that asks, what might have been if he’d been more interested in competition than celebrity?

Kyrgios baited Sinner last summer in a blatant attempt to drag the Italian into a public spat. Sinner was too classy. He didn’t say a word. A major-less, semi-retired player disapproved of him? So what? Kyrgios’s unsolicited character assassinations have become irrelevant. As a Sinner supporter replied, “Keep tweeting, bro, while Jannik keeps lifting trophies.”

Kyrgios possessed all the natural talent of Sinneraz but none of their dedication or tender love of the sport. That’s why aged 22, Alcaraz has five majors. That’s why aged 23, Sinner has four majors. That’s why aged 30, Kyrgios has none. Keep tweeting, bro.

Cahill was coy about his future plans. You’d put your house on a part-time, majors-only role with Sinner. “I don’t want to answer this,” the 59-year-old South Australian said when asked if he’d changed his mind about retirement. “You know what, you just need to ask Jannik that. Ask Jannik. Are you guys going to be in the press conference with him? God bless you.”

When Sinner was being devoured by Grigor Dimitrov in the fourth round, trailing by a couple of bloody sets like a rabbit being eaten by a mad, bad and dangerous crow, he earned a reprieve when the Bulgarian retired injured. Sinner’s get-out-of-jail-and-into-the-quarter-finals-free card was when Cahill thought triumph might have been written in the stars.

Sinner kisses the trophy.

“We kept reiterating to him that grand slams in men’s tennis, it’s seven matches, it’s best-of-five, and nobody goes through a tournament without a hiccup,” Cahill said. “Whether it be an injury or a little bit of luck, or you get yourself out of an early-round problem, everybody has a story in a grand slam. Maybe this was going to be his story.

“So take that match for what it is, put it to one side, and the main job is to concentrate on his next opponent. If you beat the next opponent, you move on and you’ve made the most of it. “He did that. It’s the same way he approached his loss at Roland Garros. He saw it for what it was.”

Cahill continued: “He understood that he played an incredible match at Roland Garros. He was beaten in the end by a better player. He’d never played a better clay court match than what he played there, so he knew he was improving as a tennis player. He was able to put it to one side and focus on the next day. That’s a pretty rare quality to have. It’s a great effort by Jannik.”

I spent an afternoon during this year’s Australian Open watching Sinner and Alcaraz train. I swore Sinner was the more polished player. Nothing really in it, of course, but I just thought he had a significantly more wicked serve, softer hands, better variation, greater margin for error with his savagely topspun groundstrokes and a vastly steadier temperament. He was mesmerising, really, like a concert violinist.

How wonderful to think Sinneraz, tennis’s version of Ali versus Frazier, or the Yankees versus Red Sox, or Piastri versus Norris, could continue for another decade.

Wimbledon Dancing with Champions event – men’s and women’s title winners Jannik Sinner and Iga Swiatek.

“I’m really, really happy about having this rivalry with him,” Alcaraz said. “It’s great for us and it’s great for tennis. Our level is really high. If I’m honest with you, I don’t see any other players, against each other, having the level we are when we face each other.

We’re building a really great rivalry because we’re playing the finals of grand slams, the finals of Masters’, the best tournaments in the world. The rivalry is becoming better and better.”

Every point counted. Every point mattered. The magic dust, the poetry, the personality in every word, every line, every stanza. It was a masterpiece. No asterisks here.

“I’m just really grateful because it gives me the opportunity to give 100 per cent in every practice, every day, to be better,” Alcaraz said.

“The level I have to maintain and raise if I want to beat Jannik is really high. He was unbelievable today. From the baseline, he was better than me, and I didn’t know what to do.

“Mentally it’s tough to maintain a good focus or good level during a whole match when you see the opponent is playing such great tennis. He was pushing me to the limit. In every point.”