It's all hotting up at Wimbledon.

 It's all hotting up at Wimbledon

We are now at the business end of Wimbledon, the matches that count and the important final stages where heroes are born and reborn and champions are acclaimed. A couple of days ago, one Novak Djokovic created yet more records and secured even more monumental achievements. It is hard to think of a time when Djokovic hasn't reached the peak of his game, the zenith of his powers. At 38 now, the Serbian is still a towering giant in world tennis, a mighty influence around tennis's global community, an extraordinary talent still capable of surpassing himself and defying age. 

We thought we'd seen it all when the Swedish maestro Bjorn Borg thought he'd taken up sitting tenancy rights at SW19, a man who seemed to live at Wimbledon and almost take up permanent occupancy as the best player in the world. Borg was nerveless, temperamentally perfect and just unbeatable. But now Novak Djokovic will meet Jannick Sinner in the men's singles semi final with Mount Olympus in sight and the widespread admiration of both his contemporaries and the fans who have so faithfully followed him. 

On Wednesday, Flavio Cobolli of Italy literally surrendered to the Djokovic power game, his all court game flourishing beautifully, the whole gamut of the Serbian's innate gifts working to perfection. Cobolli briefly flickered and then succeeded during his quarter final with the dominant Serbian. He threw himself almost desperately at the ball when Djokovic was simply dragging the Italian to both sides of the tramlines before thrashing the ball remorselessly past Cobolli with frightening ferocity and destructive returns of serve that flew past Cobolli like a missile.

These last few days we have been reminded pleasantly of Djokovic brilliance, his versatility and variation, the wickedness of his forehands and backhands, the subtleties and delicacies and much more. The Serbian has now taken tennis into entirely new realms, a different dimension, demonstrating a flawless mastery occasionally bordering on arrogance but then we recognise him for who he really is. At one point  he threatened to take over at Wimbledon, monopolising the green if now brown baselines as if he were born to be a champion. 

During Covid 19, the Serbian almost lost his devoted fanbase and a worldwide audience who thought he'd betrayed them, let them down, somebody who had now become a major source of disappointment. Djokovic refused point blank to take the Covid 19 vaccine because he thought he was just immortal, immune to disease, untouchable, the best thing since sliced bread. There is still something of the cold blooded assassin about him that sends frightening convulsions down the spine of his opponents and he can still dig into his classy back catalogue of shots that somehow defy gravity at times. 

But with legs askance on the baseline before his first serve, Djokovic is like a coiled spring, a leopard hiding in the jungle, prowling and growling in the tangled undergrowth. He still spends most of his epic matches forever blowing on his fingers, fidgeting and twiddling his racket, crouching like a panther ready to pounce, set on the savanna, eyes wide open and clear of thought and deed. 

And then the Serbian did what he does best, clumping and clobbering wristy cross court winners with his devastating forehands, slicing his backhands with endless variety and then executing seemingly impossible drop shots that almost floated serenely down the centre of the court. Now the former seven time Wimbledon champion was on fire, flipping and caressing the ball with an almost affectionate tenderness. 

After a brief period of Cobolli's resistance, Djokovic wrapped up the game with a semi final place against Sinner. It was 7-6, 7-2, 7-5 and 6-4 and without breaking sweat at times. Up in the celebrity boxes, Djokovic's wife and children watched in horror towards the end of this classic, as the great Serbian, by now hurling himself around the back of the court valiantly, slipped awkwardly on the grass, collapsed dramatically, and remained motionless for a disturbing minute or so. We thought the former Wimbledon champion would never recover from what looked like a nasty fall but thankfully no damage had been done.  

Djokovic won through to his semi final meeting with Italian Jannick Sinner and all was well. You found yourself thinking that time and age may not be on Djokovic's side but the amazing reflexes were still there and the light undimmed. Sometimes the greats never lose that twinkle in their eyes, the insatiable hunger and drive, the relentless will to win that continues to leave us spellbound. We may hope that the man from Serbia still has some petrol left in the tank because legends never disappoint. 

Meanwhile on Centre Court last night, Wimbledon witnessed yet more fun and games. In fact, there was a time during the mixed doubles Final when sport was elevated to another level. It was a spellbinding and mesmerising tennis spectacular. There was a genuine air of astonishment about SW19, two sets of mixed doubles determined to leave the crowd on the highest of highs. Our jaws were dropping with obvious incredulity and wonderment, a match to grace the pages of Wimbledon's illustrious history books. 

At the end, the Dutch and Czech combination of Sem Verbeek and Katerina Simanova won the mixed doubles Final, beating the Brazilian Luis Stefani and Joe Salisbury of Britain with the kind of tennis that many of us will still recall on a dark December night. There was one particularly delightful chip and charge sustained rally, a blizzard of volleyed exchanges at the net that was utterly unforgettable. There were the electrifying reflexes that seemed to go on forever. The ball looked as if a magnet had got hold of it and just kept on going. 

And yet for all the noteworthy and honourable intentions of Stefani and Salisbury, the game was going according to plan for Verbeek and Simanova. There was a steely resolve and something that was magically impulsive about the Dutch and Czech pair, a dazzling mobility and agility which almost wore down the British and Brazilian challenge. There were shots that belonged in an art installation, returns of serve that swung wildly from one end to the other with joyous frequency. 

But it was Verbeek and Simonava who clinched the Wimbledon mixed doubles trophy and another Thursday at Wimbledon had reached a fitting conclusion. It could yet be either Sinner or the stunningly talented Spaniard Carlos Alcaraz whose breakthrough as a world class player may yet be complete on Sunday afternoon with another Wimbledon men singles trophy. And then it could be yet another record breaking afternoon for a gentleman named Novak Djokovic with yet another men singles trophy under his belt. Summertime at Wimbledon will always be as sweet as its traditional strawberries and cream. We await the gallery of the great and good. Anybody for yet more tennis.