MSG - SPICE ENOUGH

Well, what was that all about?

Nostalgia, private air travel, Puerto Rican rum, fabled New York hair—Donald Trump’s and Anna Wintour’s, of course. Significant diamond rings, upturned collars, high heels, white wine, money trying hard to turn into excitement. Tennis immortality, severely

bending second serves, the supremacy of youth, mutual respect, two nice guys who were never meant to be performers, a lot of guaranteed cash, a lot of service winners, a very good third set, the eternal need for Star Wars. A touchingly disappointed loser.

This was the secret to tennis immortality, apparently. Underneath the night’s spectacle and show, the sport’s very best players remain normal guys—gentlemen, as they used to say in the game's amateur days. Neither needed the tirades of Mcenroe, nor the vile carnal acts of racquet abuse of  Connors.

That’s probably not going to get tennis back to the Garden anytime soon, but it's a fact worth celebrating nonetheless.