Sport is parochial, provincial. The province might change, from alma mater to city to nation. But we care about the people and teams we care about.
|Venus Williams is at her best at Wimbledon: 'My game just seems to get better when I'm here.' (Getty Images)|
It's always us vs. them.
Except at Wimbledon, it's the U.S. vs. Them.
And it has been Them in a rout. Except for the Williams sisters. They can save this Wimbledon for America. They can prove someone from the other side of Atlantic can hit decent forehand.
Or in Venus' case, a 127-mph serve, which is what she recorded on the final shot Saturday against Maria Jose Martinez Sanchez. An ace into the wide corner. A stunner. A reassurance.
"One-twenty-seven is a good way to end it," said Venus. She is the defending champion. She is trying for a fifth women's singles title.
"I'm actually never trying to serve that hard. It just comes big. That's how I serve. It's just me."
Wimbledon rested Sunday. It's a quaint carryover from the 19th century. Nothing used to happen Sundays in Britain, except attending church and dining with family.
Wimbledon, the British Open, Henley once ended on Saturday. Before the awesome presence of television.
Now markets are open in Britain on Sundays. Department stores. Not many London theaters, meaning the stage. And not Wimbledon on the first Sunday of the tournament, unless there's a backup caused by rain.
Let us pause, the English are saying. Let us give lawns a break. Let us give the townsfolk of Wimbledon, a charming rural community maybe eight miles from central London, postal code Southwest 19, a 24-hour respite from the tourists and the ticket touts.