Roger Federer- tennis's oldest world No.1

Roger Federer- tennis's oldest world No.1

Can that really be true? It has to be if they say it is. This weekend Roger Federer became the oldest No.1 player in the history of tennis. What a stunning achievement by anybody's reckoning. According to the world rankings, normally an accurate bellwether of these things, Federer has been playing tennis for so long that there are those seasoned veterans within the game who can hardly remember where they were when Federer first picked up a racket.

Suffice it to say that the most decorated, most praised, most feted, most loved of all sportsmen, has now settled himself neatly into the Tennis Hall of Fame without so much as breaking sweat and probably wondering what all the fuss is about. Federer doesn't really do adulation or self congratulation because his manner is essentially modest, humble, unassuming and self deprecating. There is a remarkable level headedness and groundedness about the man that has always been there and will never, you suspect, leave him.

So it is that Federer breaks yet another record and to those within the game this is not entirely unexpected. The Swiss maestro has won so many Grand Slams now that maybe a shield or special trophy should be designed in his honour. For the man who has everything the game of tennis hasn't only been about longevity more a pursuit of convincing victories, more memorable five set triumphs and more feats of astonishing stamina that continue to leave us gasping for superlatives.

When Roger Federer first stepped onto the Centre Court of Wimbledon most of us regarded him as some young upstart who would undoubtedly reach the most stratospheric heights. But what we didn't know is that he would also win the men's singles title at Wimbledon so many times that calculators would be required and some of us would run out of fingers.

Comparisons are obvious of course. We remember the beautiful talents of that Swedish tennis artist Bjorn Borg. Borg rattled off five consecutive men's singles Final victories without wiping so much as a trickle of sweat from that immovable sweat band that he always wore for the big occasions. Borg barely broke sweat at all, strolling and trotting around the baseline like a man considering his next university essay. He would prowl around the back of a tennis court like a man whose private thoughts could never be fathomed. And this is where Federer came in.

For what must seem like the last 20 years or so - even more- Federer has been a model of composure, calmness personified, never bothered by an imminent crisis such as a murmur from the crowd or a disobedient wind in the wrong direction. Federer just gets on with the business at hand and rather like Borg always looks as if he's just stepped out of the most fashionable menswear shop. There is something of the silent assassin about him, a quiet storm about to erupt with a devastating vengeance.

On any tennis court the Federer demeanour is a classy one. The hair, thick black and lustrous, has always been swept back and combed to perfection, the body primed and prepared for all eventualities. There is a statesmanship and craftsmanship about Federer that is almost set in stone before every Federer match. Federer carries himself with an almost regal and monarchical air that demands a crown on his head when the win is secured.

In recent years Federer's continuing rivalries with Rafa Nadal and Novak Djokovic have been the stuff of legend. When Britain's Andy Murray joined in with the cut and thrust of tennis's finest of all contests, Federer simply out thought and outmanoeuvred his opponents as if they were not there. Some might have called it arrogance and almost insolence but when the Swiss blasts his serves down the centre of the court with those unreturnable and ruthless aces, a palpable majesty follows him. Take that D'Artagnan.

Now though Federer, seemingly at the veteran stage of his career, is simply doing what the rest of his sporting predecessors must have thought would come naturally. And this is where your mind drifts to those other wise sporting campaigners who have trodden the courts, pitches and race tracks of the world without so much as a care in the world.

Back in the late 1960s there was that delightful Australian Ken Rosewall, another tennis practitioner of the gentlest kind. Rosewall, it seemed, just kept on playing and playing until it became physically impossible to play. Like Federer, Rosewall had the most feathery touch and a delicious delicacy about his forehands and backhands that almost invited flattery and kind words.

In football. a gentleman by the name of Stanley Matthews played for both Blackpool- where he would subsequently and finally win an FA Cup winners medal in 1953 against Bolton. Much later Sir Stanley Matthews would once again trouble the record books when he moved to Stoke City at the latter end of his career. In 1965 Matthews would wear a Stoke City shirt at the age of 50. Wingers in football are almost an endangered species now but a 50 year old winger hugging the flanks during the 1960s must have been a truly unusual sight.

More recently Dino Zoff, the vastly reliable Italian goalkeeper, once lifted the World Cup for his country at the age of 40 and Ryan Giggs, Manchester United's fast and explosively pacy winger, was until recently still tying his boots at the age of 38 going on 39.

Sportsmen and women of course are much fitter and stronger than ever before and all those physical conditioning programmes, perfectly observed diets and routine fitness regimes have made today's athlete almost superhuman.

The truth is that one Roger Federer, complete in that immaculately tailored waistcoat -cum jacket, a hint of a pony tail and that worldly air of savoir faire and suave sophistication, has indeed done it again. He is the oldest player to maintain a No 1 ranking and that has to be immensely commendable. I'm 55 and my forehand is a complete embarrassment. Congratulations Roger. Your record is perfectly safe.