Federer on his loss: ‘I’m not sure what happened’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — He sounded as bewildered as the rest of us. Sure, it’s happened before, a favorite squandering a lead, breaking bad — and that’s the key phrase here — when it’s all going so good, Arnold Palmer throwing away a seven-shot lead in a U.S. Open, the Falcons falling apart after going in front by 25 points in Super Bowl LI.

But not Roger Federer. Not the acknowledged greatest tennis player ever. Not at Wimbledon, where he had won the men’s singles seven times. Not against Kevin Anderson, whom he’d beaten the four times they’d ever met.

There was Roger on Wednesday, coasting, breezing, playing with the grace and skill we — and he — would expect, even a month before his 37th birthday.

Two sets ahead, a lead in the third, one point from his fifth straight semifinals, from his 12th in 15 Wimbledons overall. And then?

“After that,” he would confess, “I’m not sure what happened.”

On the scoreboard, what happened was Anderson, the big guy (6-foot-8) from South Africa (he lives in Florida and has applied for U.S. citizenship), stunned Federer, 2-6, 6-7, 7-5, 6-4, 13-11.

A mini-marathon, 4 hours, 14 minutes. A maxi-surprise.

“I’m up two sets to one,” said a chastened Federer. “It’s all good, so... At that point, I wasn’t thinking of losing.”

But he lost. He lost for only the second time in a Wimbledon match after winning the first two sets (Jo-Wilfred Tsonga beat him 3-6, 6-7, 6-4, 6-4, 6-4). He lost after having his serve broken for the first time at Wimbledon since last year’s semi against Tomas Berdych, 85 games.

“I was very happy that I got off to the right start,” said Federer, “as I was able to take control of the game.”

It’s the end that counts in sports. It’s how you finish. And Anderson, who had 28 service aces — 11 in the fifth set, which lasted for an hour and a half — was able to finish off Federer.

“I think I had my chances,” said Federer, “so it’s disappointing. No doubt about it. I just don’t know exactly how I couldn’t create more opportunities once the third set came around. He was consistent. He was solid. Credit to him for hanging around that long.”

Anderson, who through the second set had dropped all 10 sets he’d ever played against the Swiss master starting in 2013, will take that credit and take his spot in the semis against an American, John Isner, who beat the Canadian Milos Raonic.

“It felt great to get that match.” said Anderson. ”I mean, the toughest thing players face when playing somebody like Roger in this setting is giving yourself a chance.”

Even if nobody else gave him a chance.

“Again,” said Anderson, who spent a year at the University of Illinois, “I really hope it’s an example of sticking to your dreams.”

More importantly, sticking to your plan. A day earlier, he told a writer from Metro, the free London paper, “I feel like a lot of aspects of my game can give him a lot of trouble. I’m a big player, big serve. I’m going to have to really take it to him.”

In truth, Anderson took it from Federer, took away the opportunity to add a 20th Grand Slam title to his record.

“That has nothing to do with my opponent,” Federer would contend, when of course it did have a great deal to do with his opponent. Anderson didn’t melt under the Federer spell — “Roger, Roger” was the scream at Centre Court. Anderson was resolute.

“It was just one of those days where you hope to get by,” said Federer. “Somehow, I almost could have.”

Almost, that’s the word so often used by the people who play Federer. They had him. Then they didn’t have him. Then he hit the great passing shot, the great serve.

“I didn’t feel mental fatigue,” said Federer. “Now I feel horribly fatigued. It’s just awful. But that’s how it goes.”

It’s legitimate to wonder where Federer will go. He said he’ll return to Wimbledon, but it won’t be as defending champion, as the virtually unbeatable star.

“Today,” said Federer, “I had moments where I was great. I felt like I was reading his serve, other moments where I don’t know where the hell I was moving.”

He knows now. He was moving out of Wimbledon.

Serena, into the semis, vows to ‘keep going’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — This is what champions do: They reach back, to their past, to their strength. They may struggle. They might fall behind. Then they find a way to win. Which is the reason they are champions.

From the start, when the top seeds were losing one after another, this Wimbledon seemed to belong to Serena Williams. Until the first set of Tuesday’s quarterfinal.

That was taken by Camila Giorgi of Italy, who just happens to serve as hard as Serena.

Down a set, down 0-30 on her serve in a game in the second set, scattering returns, still not tournament ready some 10 months after the birth of her daughter, Williams was in trouble. Or was she?

“No,” said Serena. ”It’s weird. Sometimes I feel, man, I’m in trouble. Sometimes I feel I can fight. For whatever reason, today I was so calm. Even when I was down the first set I thought, ‘Well, she’s playing great. I’m doing a lot of things right. It is what it is.’”

What it turned out to be was a 3-6, 6-3, 6-4 victory for Serena, who when she faces Julia Goerges on Thursday will be playing in her 11th Wimbledon semifinal. Goerges defeated Kiki Bertens, 3-6, 7-5, 6-1.

The other semi will be between Jelena Ostapenko, who beat Dominka Cibulkova, 7-5, 6-4, and Angelique Kerber, a 6-3, 7-5 winner over Daria Kasatkina.

Before she became pregnant and left the game, Serena, with seven Wimbledon titles and 23 Grand Slam championships overall, unquestionably was the best women’s player in the sport. But she was away for months, and she’s almost 37. No one knew what to expect, including Serena.

“I think everything right now is a little bit of a surprise,” advised Williams. “To be here, to be in the semifinals, I mean I always say I plan on it. I would like to be there, have these goals. But when it actually happens, it still is like, wow, this is really happening.”

There’s a devious, realistic side to Serena, along with the gee-whiz-ain’t-this-unusual talk. She spoke about being a role model, to her daughter Alexis and other children, and in many ways — as an African-American woman who has worked her way to the top of a mostly white sport — she is.

Yet, as noted and heard that evening at the U.S. Open not too many years ago, when she berated a line judge for calling a foot fault, she can swear with the best — or worst — of anyone. She’s tough, physically, emotionally, verbally. That’s also part of being a champion.

You don’t go on year after year — she won her first Wimbledon in 2002 — without intensity. You go after an opponent. Now and then, you go after an official.

Or did. Mother Serena has compartmentalized her priorities. She says she is prepared for both life and tennis as they are, not what they used to be.

“It’s different now, obviously,” said Serena, “because I have the baby. Being a mom is totally different. Still have to think. ‘Wow, I’m a mom.’ Every day is different for me. Just having an opportunity to win, win matches, just matches in general, with a daughter at home.”

The fire still burns, however.

Asked about her apparent attitude change, Serena — at Wimbledon, she’s called and listed as “Mrs. Williams,” although her husband’s name is Ohanian — said that could be impermanent.

“No, just to be clear, that was just today,” she said of the relaxed approach. “I mean I’m hoping this is like a new thing. I highly doubt it. It was just the way I felt today; I never felt it was out of my hands. I can’t describe it. I just felt calm. Hoping I can channel it, but one day at a time.”

These have to be great days. With a lack of play and lack of points, she dropped to 183rd in the WTA rankings. With the comeback victory over Giorgi, Serena has leaped to 51.

“Well,” she mused, “it’s better than 183. Got to keep tracking on. Serena Williams, 51. It doesn’t have that same ring to it. The ‘1’ part does, but not the ‘5.’ Keep going.”

For Mackenzie McDonald, the end of Wimbledon could be a beginning

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — It was an end for the kid, Mackenzie McDonald, at Wimbledon. But in truth it was a beginning, a strong one, a step forward in a tennis career of possibility.

“He’s going to have a chance to do well,” said Milos Raonic.

He didn’t do that well on Monday. Which wasn’t a surprise. A former finalist, the No. 13 seed, a man with a thundering serve — there was a 138 mph clocking — Raonic beat McDonald, 6-3, 6-4, 6-7, 6-2.

But McDonald did well in his first Wimbledon, getting through the first week, making it to the fourth round, being a part of Manic Monday with the top guns, Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Serena Williams.

Which maybe wasn’t a surprise either. “He’s solid from the back,” said Raonic, meaning the backcourt.

“I thought I played some really good tennis this week,” 23-year-old Michael Mackenzie Lowe McDonald said in reflection. “Yeah. Just excited. Hopefully it just keeps going.”

McDonald lives and trains in Florida now, at the U.S. Tennis Association complex. But he was born and grew up in Piedmont, Calif., taking lessons from Rosie Bareis and Wayne Ferreira, a 1994 Wimbledon quarterfinalist who is from South Africa but resides in Northern California.

“I used to practice really early in the morning, 6:30,” said McDonald. “Three times a week. I remember in first grade doing it with Rosie. It was a lot of hours. She would sit on a milk carton and drop balls. She was tough on me.”

As we’ve heard, becoming a champion is not easy.

“We had all these running drills,” McDonald remembered. “And jump rope.”

McDonald went to UCLA, won the 2016 NCAA singles champion and then, at 5-foot-10 in a sport with more and more big men, turned pro. As expected, it has been a learning process. Also, against the 6-foot-5 Raonic, a guessing process, wondering where the next ball would land.

“Placement and speed,” said McDonald of what makes Raonic’s serves so effective. “Honestly I had never faced a server like that before. I feel like I’m a good returner, but I have never felt so uncomfortable out there returning.

“I didn’t have one break point. I have never played a match where I have never had a break point before.”

It would be like a batter coming up from Triple A and facing Nolan Ryan. A 138 mph serve by Raonic? “I’ve never faced anything like that,” McDonald confirmed.

But he did face it, did make to the second week, did get to drink in the atmosphere on Middle Sunday, when no fans are allowed and the All England Lawn Tennis Club virtually belongs to the contestants.

“Sunday was really cool," said McDonald. “I hadn’t obviously experienced anything like that. It was nice to have a relaxing day.”

With his name, McDonald would fit in at next week’s British Open golf tournament at Carnoustie, Scotland.

“I’m 25 percent Scottish,” said McDonald about his heritage, “25 percent English and half Chinese.”

The UCLA coach, Billy Martin, a onetime Tour player, told USA Today’s Dan Wolken that he has known McDonald since McDonald was 7 years old and playing in events with Martin’s son. It didn’t hurt that McDonald’s father, Mike, went to UCLA.

A writer asked McDonald whether he or other players took any aspect of Federer’s game after watching the world's No. 1 player.

“I have learned from him,” said McDonald, “but I haven’t studied him ... He’s obviously a great player. He’s efficient, moves well, serves well, does everything the best. So I mean, there is a lot to take from him. I mean, specifically nothing.”

You have or you don’t. Asking others how Federer does it would be like asking how Picasso did it.

How did Mackenzie McDonald do it at his first Wimbledon?

“It’s really a dream come true,” he said. “I hope it’s just a start.”

On Wimbledon’s idle Sunday, the World Cup remains very large

By Art Spander

LONDON — Yes, they’re still holding a tennis tournament here, meaning the London borough of Merton, SW 19 in the postal code (nothing goes ZIP in this country).

Middle Sunday, as it is known, is when the lawns of Wimbledon get a rest.

Maybe the English people, too.

“England’s dreaming,” was headline on the huge wrap-around front page of the The Sunday Times. Not about weaseling out of Brexit, two years after voting to get out of the European Union. Dreaming, of course, about the World Cup.

The dreamers, however, do not include the executives of the All England Club, who are doing their best — and failing — to hold their event in a vacuum, not allowing the soccer matches to be shown on Wimbledon’s big-screen television outside Court One.

On Saturday, when Rafael Nadal led the way into the second week, the fans who didn’t flee Wimbledon to catch England’s 2-0 quarterfinal win over Sweden in nearby pubs peered at their tablets or iPhones anywhere the game was being streamed.

The roars that carried around the grounds had nothing to with service aces or great forehands. They were for the goals some 1,500 miles away in Russia by Dele Alli and Harry Maguire.

It’s their event, Wimbledon, and certainly they’re allowed to do with it what they want.

On a smaller scale, there have been teams in America that refused to permit the TV sets in their stadiums to be switched to a sport other than their own.  

England, Britain, is like an early 1950s United States. In the Kensington and Chelsea section, maybe a mile from famed Harrods department store, young men — some of them quite wealthy, obviously — rev the engines of their Ferraris. Aston-Martins, Jags and Benzes, tearing out in a squeal of rubber. You might call it a royal version of American Graffiti.

That isn’t the reason many of the players and media, who would stay at the then very convenient Gloucester Hotel, have shifted to Wimbledon, roughly eight miles to the southwest. The stars, Nadal, Roger Federer, Serena Williams, need convenience and, in these days of aggressive fans and social media, privacy. They rent homes not far from the tennis courts.

Twenty-five years ago, you might go to dinner at a late-night eatery on the corner of Gloucester and Harrington, Dino’s — it’s gone, but the neon sign still clings to the building — and see Gabriela Sabatini. Now she would be sequestered in SW 19.

The World Cup always interjects itself into Wimbledon every four years, but Wimbledon never even blinked. Until now. Until England, a surprise as the Cup moved along, suddenly had a genuine chance to win for the first time since 1966.

That final was in London, against Germany. A mere generation after the end of World War II, 21 years. Emotions were high in England, still recovering from the Blitz. An editorial in the Daily Mail the morning of the championship game began, “If Germany beat us this afternoon in our national game, we can always point out to them twice we have beaten them at theirs.”

Sport and politics never are inseparable. Hitler used the 1936 Olympics to glorify Nazi Germany. The success of the Boca Juniors helped keep Peron in power in Argentina. The happy days in Russia with the Cup were well scripted.

“This may be the best of the World Cups,” wrote Matt Dickinson in the London Times, of this competition in Russia. “It might also be a ‘well-scripted charade whose roots go back to Berlin in 1936.’” He was quoting Gary Kasparov, the chess champion and vehement opponent of Russian president Vladimir Putin.

”The football here,” said another Putin critic, “has been Putin’s friend.”

The Game transcends all. It keeps politicians in power. It keeps Wimbledon on edge. The Championships are an afterthought to the success of the England World Cup team.

Wimbledon: It’s your baby, Serena

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — It’s your baby, Serena. This Wimbledon is all but yours. There may be a week to go, but most of the names and virtually all of the top ten seeds among the women have gone.

Underdogs are fine. In football and basketball, not tennis, a sport as dependent on name recognition as a solid forehand. Nobody wants Roger Federer to lose, especially tournament sponsors.

Serena — Mrs. Williams, according to the 18th-century concepts of the All-England Club, even if her husband’s name is Alexis Ohanian — came into this Wimbledon with a gift seed of No. 25 because she had missed so many tournaments after giving birth.

Which doesn’t mean anything. As shown by the results of the top-seeded players.

When No. 1 seed and No. 1 ranked Simona Halep was defeated, 3-6, 6-4, 7-5, by Hsieh Su-Wei of Taiwan on Saturday only one of the women’s top ten seeds remained. And we’re only through the third round.

Maybe Steffi Graf could be accepted as a late entry. Or Martina Navratilova, who won nine times from 1978-1990, and is now on the grounds doing TV work. Sure, she’s not young anymore, but she’s still famous.

Tennis purists know about Hsieh, who with Peng Shuai of China won the 2013 Wimbledon’s doubles. But to be successful, a sport must bring in the masses. As the late Bill Veeck said about the so-called National Pastime, “If you had to depend on baseball fans for your support, you’d be out of business by Mother’s Day.”

Wimbledon, the Championships, has been in business since 1877. That doesn’t mean everyone is paying attention. It may be the oldest, most important tennis tournament in the world, but it’s still a tennis tournament, not the World Cup or the Super Bowl.

The players make the event as much as the event makes the players.

So with Halep, and defending champ Garbiñe Muguruza and Serena’s older sister, Venus, having been defeated all too early — along with Caroline Wozniacki and two-time winner Petra Kvitova — it could be Serena, 36, who’s the lady of them all.

Halep won the French Open a month ago. She went from a feat on clay to feet of clay on Wimbledon’s grass. Hsieh throws a knuckleball, in a matter of speaking, drop shots and slices, and her game — along with the Wimbledon lawn on Court No. 1 — confused Halep.

“I know she’s mixing the rhythm,” said Halep, who’s from Rumania. “She’s playing everything. It was really hard on grass court to do better. Still I had 5-3 in the third set. I had match point. It didn’t go my way today.”

Certain people can play hard courts. Certain people can play clay. Certain people can play grass. Great players, Graf, Navratilova, Chris Evert, Serena, won on all three.

“The ball is not bouncing two times in a row the same,” said Halep. “The difficulty was bigger today because of her game.”

Not that Hsieh, 32, doesn’t have her mental hang-ups. When she was serving for the match, Hsieh hit a fault, then paused before tossing up another ball.

“Because last year I play against (Lucie) Safarova, then I have two match points,” she recalled. “I make double-fault. Then have one match point. Double fault again. So today, I have a fault. Oh my God, not going to happen again. People was laughing at me. I need to cool down.”

Hsieh had injuries to both ankles, forcing her into a brief retirement two years ago. “I nearly thought of stopping tennis completely,” she said on her return in December 2016. “But here I am.”

There she was, ousting Halep and making a mockery of the seeding.

Serena was idle Saturday and, as is tradition, there is no play at Wimbledon on the middle Sunday, so she will be well rested for her fourth-round match Monday.

A seven-time champion, Serena was asked whether, with so many top players being knocked out, this would be an excellent chance for another title.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I think a lot of the top players are losing. But they’re losing to girls who are playing outstanding. If anything, it shows me every moment that I can’t underestimate any of these ladies.”

Nor do any of those ladies dare underestimate Serena Williams

The answer always is Wimbledon

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — The answer is Wimbledon, no matter the question.

Grass courts that mystify (unless you’re Roger Federer)? Wimbledon.

Tournament often as crazy as it is important? Wimbledon.

Event the players would never criticize even though it should be criticized? You got it, Wimbledon. 

On Day 5 of Wimbledon 142 — yes, it started in 1877, but there was the interruption called World War II — Roger Federer and Serena Williams kept winning.

Venus Williams and Sam Querrey failed to keep winning. 

And the stories in the dailies that weren’t about Dominika Cibulkova’s thigh slapping or England’s World Cup quarterfinal were about an oversize balloon in the form of Donald Trump wearing a diaper that will fly over London

Ready? Your serve. And with this heat wave, 85 degrees on Friday, remember to stay hydrated.

Federer, 6-3, 7-5, 6-2 over Jan-Lennard Struff and Serena, 7-5, 7-6 over Kristina Mladenovic, stayed on course. So did John Isner, 6-3, 6-3, 6-4 over Radu Albot.

But after taking the first set, Querrey was beaten by the flashy French guy, Gael Monfils, 5-7, 6-4, 6-4, 6-2. And Venus, 38 years old, lost to Father Time, and to 26-year-old Kiki Bertens, 6-2, 6-7, 8-6.

“There always are more upsets at Wimbledon,” said Querrey, who a year ago had one of those, beating Andy Murray. “I think it’s because of the grass. It’s such a different surface.”

Whether Bertens defeating Venus could be labeled an upset is judgmental. Venus did win Wimbledon five times and did get to the final in 2017 before being whipped by Garbine Muguruza — who, talk about upsets, lost this year in the second round.

But Venus sadly is starting to look the age she is, eliminated in the first round of both the Australian Open and French Open and now being eliminated in the second round at Wimbledon after losing the first set in all three matches. 

“Just ran out of time in the end,” said Venus, an ironic comment that now could apply to her career as much as to the match. Not that she ever would even hint of stepping away.

“The plan,” said Venus when asked about disappointment, “is to go out and try to win the matches. You just go out and regroup afterwards. You know, I think she was just a little bit luckier than I was in the end.”

Johanna Konta of England wasn’t as concerned with fortune as she was with Cibulkova slapping her thighs during the Thursday match that Cibulkova won, 6-3, 6-4.

“Jo complained to the umpire about me slapping my leg when waiting to receive,” Cibulkova told The Sun. “But I have been doing that in my whole career, and I see no reason to stop. That is what I told the umpire. That is the first time anyone has ever complained.”

Konta is No. 24 in the rankings and Cibulkova is No. 31, so the result could be called an upset. For sure, Konta, a back-page tabloid star in this, her homeland, was upset emotionally.

“She’s very intense,” Konta said of Cibulkova, a Slovakian. “She was slapping her thigh. It was like clapping. I asked the umpire if it would be the same if someone else externally, from the crowd, would clap between first and second serves.”

No one’s been clapping of late for the achievements, or lack of same, of American men at Wimbledon or the other three Grand Slam tournaments.

“I feel like things come in waves,” said Querrey about the inability of U.S. men to contend. Querrey did make the semis a year ago, but that was that. The last American to win a Slam was Andy Roddick at the 2003 U.S. Open — 15 years ago.

“I mean, in the ‘90s we were probably the best tennis nation,” said Querrey, alluding to the days when Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi. Michael Chang and Jim Courier earned titles. “You have the dominance of Roger (Federer) and Rafa (Nadal) the last 12 years, Novak (Djokovic) and Andy (Murray). We have dropped off. Maybe in 10 years, we will have another wave.”

Or another lady who slaps her thighs waiting for a serve.

Isner on his Wimbledon marathon: ‘Whole world was captivated’

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — The plaque is still there, attached to the weathered bricks outside Court 18. John Isner saw it Thursday morning. Again.

“I didn’t stop and stare by any means,” he said. Others do. Thousands of others.

Court 18 is where Isner and Nicolas Mahut played, as the opening words of the plaque tell us, “The Longest Match.”

Not just at Wimbledon but anywhere, five sets and the match ending 70-68; 11 hours 5 minutes over three days, June 22-24, 2010. No tie-breaker in the fifth set at Wimbledon.

It was historic. It was magnificent. It was awful.

Mahut was so battered physically and mentally that it took him months to regain his strength, confidence and touch. And even the winner, Isner, had trouble recovering. Not that Isner has any regrets. 

“It was such a crazy match,” he said, “that the whole world was captivated by that match. I’m not exaggerating there.”

Not at all. Two guys played one match for three days? You've got to be kidding. We weren’t. Tennis had a landmark.

What Isner, now 33, had the last two days was another extended match, this time on Court 12, and this time much quicker, 3 hours 46 minutes. He beat Ruben Bemelmans of Belgium, 6-1, 6-4, 6-7 (6), 6-7 (3), 7-5.

He beat Bemelmans and that electronic linesperson, “Hawk-eye,” which on Wednesday blew a call just like a human and caused Isner to rant — until a few hours later he reflected.

“I mean, of course I’ve been in this situation before,” said Isner, about the rain that halted play in the fifth set Wednesday, “where a match was not finished, and I’m not talking about 2010.”

Although he said doesn’t mind everyone else talking about it, “because that match we played eight years ago was such a big event.”

Isner is 6-foot-10 — “If I knew I would be that tall,” said the man who was a high school center in North Carolina, “I would have stayed with basketball.” Instead he concentrated on tennis and became an All-American and NCAA tournament finalist at the University of Georgia. 

A man that tall ought to have a brilliant serve. Isner does. Against Bemelmans in the five sets, Isner recorded 64 aces, the third most ever in a match at Wimbledon. In the 11-hour match, Isner had 113 aces, Mahut 103. Which is why it lasted 11 hours. How do you break serve when you can’t return?

But like home run hitters, Isner has off days. His best at Wimbledon is the third round, where he is now. It’s not easy at his height to play those half volleys or to move around effortlessly. Not that in his career he hasn’t beaten Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic.

At nine, Isner is the highest seeded American in the men’s draw. He said he has developed a hang-loose attitude, not forcing the issue and remaining under control. In the French Open last month, he said “I just went out there with nothing to lose and played the big points well.”

It’s been unseasonably hot in Greater London, with temperatures reaching the mid 80s by late afternoon. The evenings are warm enough that a jacket is not needed. Maybe too warm for a man who was trying to sleep on Wednesday night while thinking of a match he already should have won.

“It was tough,” he conceded, “All the stuff is running through my head. I’m half asleep. I’m not really asleep. We have all been there. You have something weighing on you.

“But you know I didn’t feel tired today. I had a lot of adrenaline running through my body. The third day of my really long match in 2010, I thought I would feel tired and I didn’t. This is nothing like that but pretty similar.”

So the words don’t make a lot of sense. First the anger about Hawk-eye, then the rain, now the questions. Let’s return to the match against Mahut.

“After it finished,” said Isner, “it will go down in history, and I was a part of it. So I think especially the casual tennis fan, that’s what they know of me, and that’s fine. I like to think that since then I’ve done a lot of good stuff in my career to shed that lasting image.”

Good stuff, but so far nothing else worthy of a plaque on Wimbledon’s walls.

In England, a curse ending, a tennis tournament continuing

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — You’ve heard the line. England and America are two counties separated by a common language. It was attributed to George Bernard Shaw, who apparently never said it the way Mark Twain never said the coldest winter he ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.

There are, certainly, items other than words that make us realize the U.S. and U.K. (right, that’s more than just England) are dissimilar. Start with football. Same name, very different game, although similar obsession.

Yes, we’re smack in the middle of the oldest, most important tennis tournament on the planet, the All England Lawn Championships, better known as Wimbledon. But also we’re figuratively smack in almost-the-middle-but-closer-to-the-end of the World Cup, the quarterfinals.

And England still is playing. As if anybody able to read the common language that separates the two countries is not well aware.

England won a penalty shootout over Colombia, 4-3, Tuesday night to advance after the teams tied, 1-1, through regulation and two overtimes. People literally were dancing in the streets when the game ended, or at least in one street, Lillie Road in southwest London, not far from Wimbledon.

Trying to avoid the game would have been like trying to avoid the Super Bowl on that first Sunday in February.

“I watched the game,” said Sam Querrey after his 7-6, 6-3, 6-3 second-round victory (in tennis, not soccer). “I was at the house that we’re staying at. Kind of tucked back. I’m sure if we were a little closer to the village, we would have heard. I saw some people in videos going crazy.”

Querrey, a southern Californian, stayed cool after his win, as did fellow Americans Serena and Venus Williams and Madison Keys after they won, as contrasted to the national population following the Cup triumph.

The Curse had been lifted. Or kicked away.

We knew the Curse of the Bambino, the Curse of the Billy Goat. We knew the Curse of Candlestick, the San Francisco Giants never winning a title there. We knew the Wimbledon Curse, no British male having won men’s singles for 77 years until Andy Murray in 2013.

But only England knew the Curse of the Penalty Shootout.

That having a shootout to decide games in what some insist is the most important of any sporting event is nonsense, like shooting free throws to decide an NBA playoff game or holding a home run contest to decide the World Series. But that’s the way it’s always been done.

And, until Tuesday night, always the way that proved fatal for England. Six times previously, a World Cup game involving England had gone to a shootout, a kick-off if you will. Six times previously, England lost. Not this time.

“It’s the headline we have waited a lifetime to write,” headlined the tabloid Sun on the back page, “ENGLAND WIN ON PENALTIES.”

“Eric and Pick End Curse.” That’s Eric Dier with the deciding goal and Jordan Pickford, the England goalie whose diving left-handed save kept out what would have been a final Colombia score.

They never forget in England, where in the 1986 Cup at Mexico City they were beaten, 2-1, by Argentina in a quarterfinal on a disputed goal by Diego Maradona, who was accused of punching the ball in with his hand and countered with the explanation, “It was the hand of God.”

What delight then the creator of the headline under the photo of Jordan Pickford’s save must have taken in writing, “THE HAND OF JORD.”

Federer, the defending champ at Wimbledon was less enthralled with the England soccer win. His heart and attention were with his home country, Switzerland, which was kept from the quarters when it was shut out by Sweden, 1-0.

“It’s an opportunity missed,” agreed Federer, who on the courts rarely misses any opportunity. “In the end I thought (Sweden) were maybe a little bit better. It’s not sour. I think we deserved what we got.”

An English journalist then said to Federer, “Which team will you be rooting for now? Surely there’s only one answer to that.”

Federer hesitated, smiled and said, “Is there?’’

We’ll never know.

Nadal takes the time, and plan, best for him

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — So you say, let’s go straight to the men’s final, Roger vs. Rafa, and do away with the prelims and more importantly the questions?

What, and miss out on all those great forehands and pointed comments?

Roger Federer, of course, breezed through his first-round Wimbledon match Monday, then Rafael Nadal did the same on Tuesday, defeating Dudi Sela of Israel, 6-3, 6-3, 6-2.

“I did a lot of games good with my serve,” said Nadal, who as a Spaniard can be excused for an occasional double fault with the King’s English. As, presumably, he will excuse the journalists for asking him everything from the irrelevant to the irreverent.

The scribes didn’t necessarily do a lot of bad things, more a few stupid things, or unneeded things, tossing at him questions that would have sent a diplomatic guy like Bill Belichick away in anger but simply left the 32-year-old Nadal bewildered.

Three weeks ago, Nadal won the French Open, Roland Garros, for an 11th time. But that’s played on clay, and Wimbledon is on grass. There are several run-up events on grass, in Britain, Germany and the Netherlands. Nadal didn’t enter one.

And why not, he was asked.

“Because if I play too much,” said the perceptive Nadal, “then I come here, all the questions are: Why you not play less? Now I play less and the question is: Why you are not playing?’“

It turned out he was playing with us.

“I am just joking,” he added.

As earlier in this first week of the Championships did a former three-time champ from the mid-1980s, Boris Becker. Now 50, Becker returns to Wimbledon each summer to work as a color commentator for the BBC.

According to The Guardian, Becker both swore at the BBC’s Sue Barker and stole a joke from nine-time champion Martina Navratilova, who also gets behind the microphones at Grand Slam events.

Becker, who is German, has declared bankruptcy and also been involved in a dispute with the Central African Republic over the validity of a diplomatic passport the country gave him. “He just wanted diplomatic immunity,” said Navratilova, “so he wouldn’t have to wait at customs.”

We’ll have to wait for that possible match between Nadal, the No. 2 seed, and Federer, the defending champ and No. 1 seed.

Tennis, as baseball used to be, is a sport without a clock — and in truth, baseball still can go for hours, depending on the action or lack of it. Now Wimbledon may rule that a player must not take longer than 25 seconds to serve after the previous point.

“Personally,” said Nadal, “I don’t feel that’s going to bother me in terms of the sport. It you want to see a quick game without thinking, well done. If you want to keep playing in a sport you need to think, you need to play with more tactics, you want to have long and good rallies. Then you are going the wrong way.

“But seems like sometimes is only about the business. So I cannot support this, because I don’t feel the matches that stay for the history of our sport went that quick. All the matches that have been important in the history of our sport have been four hours, five hours.”

One of those was 10 years ago, 2008, when Nadal, in a 4-hour, 48-minute match that was decided 9-7 in the fifth set, outlasted Federer in what was the longest — and arguably, the greatest — Wimbledon final in history.

Think anyone that day was saying tennis needs a clock? It they wanted anything, it was a rematch. It isn’t speed that matters, it’s quality.

“To play these matches, you need time between points,” said Nadal, “because you cannot play points in a row with long rallies, with emotional points, having only 25 seconds between points.”

Great sport, whether it lasts minutes or hours, is timeless.

LeBron? At Wimbledon, don’t ask Venus Williams

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — LeBron? Of course we’re at Wimbledon, and he’s some 5,000 miles away. But the world of sport is international, and what else was there to ask Venus Williams, a lady of many shots — especially serves — and few words.

Venus on Monday, opening day of this 132^nd Wimbledon, defeated Johanna Larsen, 6-7 (3), 6-2, 6-1, which could be considered a big deal since Williams was down a set and had been eliminated in the first round of the last two Slams, the Australian and French.

Or could be considered nothing special because this grass court tennis at the All England Club is where Venus won women’s singles five times and was a finalist four other times.

Oh yes, younger sister Serena Williams, her daughter of eight months, Olympia, back at the room, also won on this day, beating Arantxa Rus, 7-5, 6-3, when, gasp, the temperature in Greater London climbed to 86 degrees.

Yet Serena, with her 23 Grand Slam titles and younger sibling boldness, will say about anything. Venus, however, gives brief answers, forcing the media to probe for any item that could be interesting, it not particularly newsworthy.

So right after Venus was questioned about the weather — “I live in Florida,“ she reminded — she was asked her thoughts about LeBron James signing with the Los Angeles Lakers, which must have bored the scribes from Britain, virtually the only country on this side of the Atlantic not a bit interested in basketball.

“I’m sure he’s happy, I guess,” was Venus’ one-size-fits-all sort of contradictory response about LeBron. “I don’t know. I actually don’t have any thoughts.”

So careful, so cautious, so unflagging. Venus is the grand dame of tennis. She’s 38. Broke in as a pro in 1994 at what is now Oracle Arena but then was the Oakland Coliseum Arena. Won her first Wimbledon in 2000.

Throw her a trick question and she whacks it away like an opponent’s poor lob, as when a journalist said, “I see something on a ring finger. Something new that we don’t know?”

“No, no,” said Venus. “I’ve been wearing this all year. You’ve got to be a little faster.”

At least nobody asked when she might retire. Tennis is her life. You think after overcoming that autoimmune malady, first diagnosed in 2011, she’s going pack it in now? To do what? Travel the world? That’s all tennis players do.

Larsson, of Sweden, is 58^th in the WTA rankings, while Venus is ninth. “I honestly hadn’t played her before,” said Venus, who honestly had played her before, in 2013 in the Fed Cup. But you get old, the memory declines.

“She played well,” Williams said of Larsson, who’s a mere 29. “There were moments I could have played better and was just playing better in those moments in the last two sets.”

If Venus Williams needs tennis, then tennis, American tennis, needs Venus Williams. Sloan Stephens did win last year’s U.S. Open, making us believe she would be the next star and attraction. But Monday, Stephens, who holds the No. 4 ranking, was upset by Donna Vekic of Croatia. So much for the next generation.

We’ll go with the reliable, Venus, and Serena, who’s 36. Familiarity sells in individual sports, tennis and golf. Maybe it doesn’t matter who’s in centerfield for the A’s or Giants, or Yankees or Red Sox. But it matters who's on Centre Court at Wimbledon.

And so the tennis people, those in the United States, must be pleased when Venus makes one of those brief comments that, while telling us very little, in a way tells us a lot.

“I just hang in there,” Venus said when asked how she remains consistent tournament after tournament, although until Monday her consistency in this year’s majors was to lose quickly.

“I’m not sure why any other people go up or down. Every day is not your best match, but you try to win that match anyway.”

The men’s tour, the ATP, added a new event for January, a variation of team tennis.

“I don’t read any news,” said Venus, quickly cutting off any chance of a debate. “I don’t know what’s happening on the (men’s) tour.”

At least she knew what was happening to LeBron James, apparently. Next question.

What a 'Messi': Wimbledon starts in the shadow of World Cup soccer

By Art Spander

WIMBLEDON, England — Hot and hazy in Greater London, where the front-page headlines that aren’t about England’s chances against Belgium in the World Cup seem to be about the world’s chances against Donald Trump in political maneuvers.

The Championships, Wimbledon, which start Monday, with the usual stars, Roger, Rafa and Serena and the usual controversies — Serena Williams says it’s unfair she’s drug-tested more than other players — are being kicked around, metaphorically.  

Soon, tennis will regain the attention owed to an event that’s been played since 1877. But about the only Page 1 Wimbledon photo the last few days, not surprisingly, was of Andy Murray, who in 2013 became the first Brit in 77 years to take the men’s singles.

And then, still recovering from hip surgery in January, Murray announced Sunday he was not ready for best-of-five set matches and withdrew.

So, for the most unfortunate of reasons, he’ll be Page 1 stuff again.

On Sunday, the front pages of both the Times and the Telegraph were on soccer — yes, football here. “End of the World for Ronaldo and Messi,” said the Times about the stars of ousted Portugal and Argentina.

“Where’s the Hand of God when you need it?” was the Telegraph head, over a picture of Argentina’s Diego Maradona, who in 1986 scored to beat England and denied he whacked the ball with his hand.

And both the Telegraph and Times had the same headline in their sports sections: “Move Over Messi,” alluding to French teenager Kylian Mbappe, who scored twice in France’s 4-3 win over Argentina, and Lionel Messi, the LeBron James of soccer. Err, football.

Roger Federer is the LeBron James of tennis. He has won Wimbledon eight times and has 20 Grand Slam titles. He will be 37 in a month, certainly too old for a world-class player, but every year of the past four or five years he has been too old — and too successful.

Although only No. 2 in the ATP rankings behind Rafael Nadal, Federer is the No. 1 seed for this Wimbledon, as he has been for many other Wimbledons. The people in charge know quite well that Federer’s best surface is the grass at the All England Club, while Nadal, with his nine French Opens (the tennis purists refer to the tournament as Roland Garros), is magnificent on clay.

One of the two has won each of the last six Slams, starting with the 2017 Australian Open.

Americans never have been very good at soccer. Don’t worry about headlines; the U.S. didn’t even qualify for the World Cup. Since the early 2000s, neither have American men been very good at tennis.

The last U.S. winners in the Slams were Andre Agassi at the Australian and Andy Roddick at the U.S. Open, both in 2003.

Not since 2000 has an American, Pete Sampras, taken the men’s singles at Wimbledon. Not that long perhaps, when measured against the decades of World Series disappointment by the Red Sox and Cubs, but long enough.  

The U.S. ladies, meaning Venus Williams and sibling Serena, won when the men could not. But now Venus is 38 and was knocked out of the Australian and French in the first round. Serena is coming back from giving birth last September. She withdrew from the French before a scheduled fourth-round match against Maria Sharapova because of an injury.

Messi, arguably the best player in soccer, and Portugal’s Cristiano Ronaldo are gone from the World Cup, if not the world stage. Sport is a constant change, constant replacement. Father Time, or Mother Time, wins every match, every move.

Federer and Nadal, Serena and Venus Williams, someday will be too old. Not that you’ll be hearing anyone tell them to move over. In an individual sport, the individual has to make the decision that it’s time to leave.

Teams and tournaments, World Cups, Wimbledons, NBA playoffs, Super Bowls, go on and on. The athlete goes out. Inevitable and, as we were reminded by the World Cup, oh so painful.

Pence on winning hit: ‘Like a kid on Christmas morning’

By Art Spander

SAN FRANCISCO — He’s 35, and from some of his swings of late, hopeless rips at balls around his shoulders, and that sub-.200 batting average, Hunter Pence looked like a man whose career was coming to an end.

Which his critics, pounding on him via social media, said would be a good idea.

Sure, he had some great times with the Giants, but you have to deal with the present, don’t you? And Pence is of the past, right? Why send down Mac Williamson and keep Pence and his big contract?

Because he’s a leader. And it you listen to his teammates in the clubhouse — or watched them bounce from the dugout to swarm around Pence in the bottom of the 11th on Sunday at AT&T Park — he’s also a winner.

There were the Giants, down a run with one out and nobody on. As Pence said, “It happens real quick in baseball. You’ve got to be ready for anything.” Especially an unsuspected Giants comeback for a 3-2 win over the San Diego Padres that could be called the biggest of this season.

Andrew McCutchen doubled. Buster Posey, naturally, was walked intentionally — he’d already had a single and double — and, whoa, Brandon Crawford was hit by a pitch. Bases loaded, yes, but Pence, with a groundout and two strikeouts coming to the plate against Brad Hand, one of the game’s better closers.

“Getting an opportunity like that, bases loaded, one out, down a run,” Pence would say afterward, “it’s being a kid on Christmas morning for me. There’s a lot of responsibility, but that’s what you dream of.”

He bounced one just inside the first base line, McCutchen and Posey scored, Pence would get a double and the Giants would get the series win, three games to one.

First we learn Johnny Cueto is progressing in rehab, then we watch the Pence and the Giants perform a mini-miracle.

Ballplayers with the experience and residual success of Hunter Pence view things differently than most of us. They don’t think so much about what they haven’t done, the .193 batting average after coming back from the disabled list, but what can be done.

“I don’t really harp on that,” he said about statistics that have to be called negative. “I play to go win the game. Since I came back (he was out with a sprained thumb, then had to rehab), I got a chance to start. I’ve had better days. My pinch hitting is not as good as I want it to be. But I just want to be as prepared as I can.

“By the end of the year, the numbers will be what they will be.”

The numbers Sunday for Giants starter Dereck Rodriguez were interesting. He gave up a homer on a 3-2 pitch to the first man to step into the batter’s box at AT&T, Manuel Margot. Yikes, 1-0 instantly.

But that was it for a long while. Rodriguez — yes, son of Hall of Fame catcher Pudge Rodriguez — went six innings.

“That was a lot of fun,” said Dereck. “My curve ball was the best it’s been. I’d rather have the leadoff guy hit a home run and shut them down the rest of the way than have a guy hit one in the sixth inning.”

The win kept the Giants above .500 in the standings, and while that’s not quite what will win a title, it’s a psychological barrier they must surpass. It makes them winners, in fact as well as in mind, and with a ton of home games coming up they might become a presence.

“We had to find a way to win that game,” said Giants manager Bruce Bochy. “You want to stay away from the strikeout. When you put a ball in play, good things happen.”

The Giants have a rare and necessary day off on Monday. Bochy probably will go fishing. 

Pence may just reflect.

“I’m not going to get super-down on myself,” said Pence. “It’s a team game. You want to do your best for the team and the city. I focus on being a good person, and the rest will take care of itself.”

It definitely did on Sunday.

The Panda gives Giants what they were lacking

By Art Spander

SAN FRANCISCO — Now and then, you see one of those black-and-white panda hats. Not in abundance, like the glory days for the Panda, Pablo Sandoval, and the Giants. But often enough to serve as a reminder of the way it was. And for the guys in the clubhouse, the way it is once more.

Yes, after that 2014 season, the last World Series season in San Francisco — and there was Sandoval grabbing a foul popup near third for the final out — the Panda wanted more loving or more money or something, and not only joined the Red Sox but departed the Bay Area by tossing a few insults at the Giants organization.

But Boston was no place for Sandoval. And when the Red Sox waived him, his weight too large, his batting average too low — and were responsible for a large hunk of the large contract ($90 million) he had signed — the Giants figured it made sense to see what the man can do.

The idea turned out to be brilliant. Not only because with Evan Longoria out for several weeks with a broken hand, Sandoval is starting at third — after also playing first and, glorioski, even second base.

Not only because Sandoval is hitting .281 with six homers.

Not only because Sandoval was intentionally walked in the sixth when the Giants broke loose for five runs in their 6-5 win over Miami on Wednesday.

But maybe most importantly because Sandoval provides the spirit and camaraderie that at times was lacking as the Giants in 2017 collapsed to a 98-loss season.

“Sometimes you can’t put a value on this,” said Brandon Belt. “He’s accepted his role with humility. He keeps everything loose. He keeps you in the right frame of mind.”

Belt, feeling strong again after that emergency appendectomy a couple weeks ago, had three hits including a double in that big sixth, which — and you’ve heard this before about games at AT&T Park, where this one was played — might have been a home run at many other parks.

“We won,” said Belt, cutting to the chase. That they did, winning another series at home (they haven’t dropped one here since early April) and once more creeping to within a game of a .500 record.

They won because with Brandon Crawford away on paternity leave (he returns Thursday), and after consecutive night games Monday and Tuesday following a long trip, both Andrew McCutchen and Buster Posey getting a day off, Belt, Nick Hundley, Gorkys Hernandez and, from out of the past, Hunter Pence had notable offensive games.

They won because starter Derek Holland allowed only three runs in six innings and, this is repetitive, pitching wins. Look, the Giants didn’t score until the sixth — the Marlins’ starter, Jose Urena, was sharp — but San Francisco still only trailed 1-0.

“What a job Holland did,” said Giants manager Bruce Bochy.

Bochy also was excited by Gorkys Hernandez’s extended and successful at bat in the sixth, which lasted 13 pitches and concluded with a single to center that scored San Francisco’s fourth and fifth runs.

These Giants may not be leading the standings, but they do know to work a count. Belt set a record by standing in for 21 pitches earlier this season. Now, Hernandez goes 13. That requires a good eye and plenty of patience.

“Gorkys’ at bat was huge for us,” said Belt. “We needed those runs.”

The Giants’ leadoff batter in the first, Alen Hanson, a switch hitter, took a big lefthanded swipe at a Urena pitch, fell and injured his left knee severely enough that he had to be replaced by Kelby Tomlinson.

Another injury, after broken hands on pitches for Longoria and Madison Bumgarner and then reliever Hunter Strickland stupidly punching a wall, busting his. Cursed? Not really, said Bochy. Hanson will be sore but available. Those things happen.

So, for the Giants, do situations like Monday’s game, when ahead 4-0 in the second, they wound up losing 5-4.

Easy then to get depressed, to carry the gloom to the next game — or even for weeks. But not with the Panda around. “You need guys like that,” said Belt.

And once again, the Giants have him.

Koepka does what Jack and Tiger couldn't do: win consecutive Opens

By Art Spander

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — He became a golfer by accident. Literally, a car crash when he was 10 had such a severe injury to his sinus cavity, the doctors wouldn’t let him play any contact sports. He put down the bats and picked up the clubs.

Fate and fable. Talent and courage. On Sunday, at hard and historic Shinnecock Hills, Brooks Koepka did what Jack Nicklaus never did, what Tiger Woods never did — win back-to-back U.S. Opens.

When that accomplishment last was recorded, 29 years ago, 1988-89, Curtis Strange, alluding to the great man who preceded him, quipped, “Move over, Ben,” meaning Ben Hogan, who did it in 1950-51.

And Sunday there was Strange, working for Fox-TV, asking Koepka how he managed to come back and win after starting with a 5-over-par 75 on Friday. How? Strange knew all too well.

You just keep hitting shot after shot — and, more importantly, making putt after putt.

Which, breaking from a four-way tie for first after 54 holes that included Dustin Johnson, Tony Finau and Daniel Berger, is exactly what Koepka did, a couple of those putts for pars on 12 and 13 — “Incredible saves,” said Koepka — and finishing with a one-stroke victory.

Koepka shot a 2-under 68 at Shinnecock, which USGA officials intentionally made more playable, heavily watering the greens after Saturday’s debacle. That gave Koepka a 72-hole score of 281, which if 1-over was still better than anyone else.

Englishman Tommy Fleetwood tied a U.S. Open record with a 63, making eight birdies including four in a row at 12, 13, 14 and 15 — but he couldn’t get one on any of the last three holes, which would have given him a 62 and a tie for first.

Dustin Johnson, who played almost as poorly — well, scored as poorly — over the last two days as he played well during the first two, going in order, 69-67-77-70-283, came in third. Masters champ Patrick Reed was another shot back at 284 with a 68 that had a magical start of four birdies on the first five holes and briefly raised him into a tie for the lead.

But here on the eastern end of Long Island, Koepka, 28, was the man, as he was a year ago at Erin Hills, in the woods south of Milwaukee.

A few days ago, he showed up for a pre-Open press conference and told us that although one course is smack in Middle America and the other along the Atlantic coast, there were similarities.

“The fairways were pretty wide both places,” he said. Another similarity, of course, is the champion, a 6-foot, 185-pounder who could be playing linebacker, would rather be playing shortstop and is delighted to be playing golf. 

And, after a wrist injury that forced him to miss weeks in the winter and spring, including the Masters in April, quite happy to be playing without restrictions.

“I think the first day I hit balls, everything came out exactly the way it should have,” said Koepka. “I felt like I didn’t miss three months. It was frustrating, sitting on the couch, not doing anything. I couldn’t pick up anything with my left hand. I was in a soft cast up to my elbow.”

When Koepka won the Open in 2017, there were skeptics, some contending that Erin Hills, never used for high-level competition previously, was not up to U.S. Open standards — as if he didn’t deserve the championship.

“I mean,” said Koepka, “I always feel I’m overlooked. I could care less. It doesn’t bug me. I just kind of keep doing what I’m doing.”

What he was doing a few years back was playing the European Tour, learning the game, learning himself and learning to adapt to conditions not familiar to a kid growing up in Florida. So when he hit the PGA Tour, he was ready. As his two U.S. Open victories verify.

You know what happened this week: Tiger Woods, Rory McIlroy and Jordan Spieth missed the cut. Phil Mickelson embarrassed himself by slapping a putt around like a hockey puck and shooting 81 (Phil had a 69 Sunday); Rickie Fowler stumbled to an 84 Saturday and shot 65 Sunday; Dustin Johnson went from four ahead on Friday to two behind on Sunday.

And Brooks Koepka won the U.S. Open for a second consecutive year.

Move over, Curtis.

U.S. Open third round: Chaos among the sand traps

By Art Spander

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — Chaos among the sand traps. Phil Mickelson playing by his own rules, or his interpretation of the rules. Dustin Johnson playing by the skin of his teeth.

The wind blew, the bogies grew and the 118^th U.S Open turned into a golf tournament of as many opinions as strokes.

Johnson had his seemingly solid lead get away before recapturing part of it Saturday in an agonizing third round at Shinnecock Hills, which definitively didn’t let its reputation as a brutal, testing course get away.

The last time the Open was here, at the eastern end of Long Island, caught between the devil and the deep, blue sea, was in 2004, and Shinnecock was so unfair that the sponsoring body, the U.S. Golf Association, decided to water the greens in the middle of the fourth round.

This time, looking for redemption as well as a tough championship, the USGA said it had learned from past mistakes and would keep Shinnecock playable. But as approach shots rolled for miles after hitting greens and golfers lost strokes along with their confidence, that promise appeared not to have been kept.

The USGA apologized for course condtions, as if that would ease the pain of those with bad scores. "Thanks guys did Bozo set the course," tweeted Ian Poulter, who shot 76.

 David Fay, a former executive director of the USGA, went on Fox TV and said the course was “close to the edge,” but Zach Johnson, a former Masters and British Open champion, who shot a 2-over-par 72, insisted, “It’s not on the edge, it’s surpassed it. It’s gone.”

That was the word that we believed would apply to Dustin Johnson, who began the day with a four-shot advantage. But it was the advantage that was gone, in a virtual flash. Dustin made double bogey on two and bogies on four, six, seven and eight, and with a 6-over 41 on the front nine he fell behind last year’s winner at Erin Hills, Brooks Koepka, and Henrik Stenson.

When the round finally was done, however, Dustin Johnson, even shooting a 7-over 41-36-77, was in a four-way tie for first at a not-surprisingly high total (for the Open) of 3-over for 54 holes, 213.

Sharing with him were Koepka (72) and two golfers who, because they were so far back after two rounds, had morning tee times, and they beat the wind — and everybody else on the course — with 4-under 66s, Paul Berger and Tony Finau.

Another shot back at 4-over 214 was 2013 winner Justin Rose, who virtually one-putted everything in sight (at least on the front) for a 73. Stenson was at 5-over 215.

Mickelson, on his 48^th birthday and as frustrated as anybody — while others kept their emotions in check — had an 11-over 81 that included a two-shot penalty for hitting a moving ball when it rolled off the green at 13.

Fay, the former chief, said on TV that Mickelson should have been disqualified, but the question is whether the golfer is trying to keep the ball from rolling away or just hitting it when it is rolling.

“Phil didn’t purposely deflect or stop the ball,” said John Bodenhamer, managing director of championships for the USGA, alluding to a rule.

What Phil did, however, was a poor reflection of a man who has won every major except the U.S. Open, as if he could do what he wants.

“It was going to go down in the same spot behind the bunker,” said Mickelson, referring to where he earlier had played from. “I wasn’t going to have a shot.” So he had 10 shots. “I know it’s a two-shot penalty.”

Yes, the Open drives men mad.

Rickie Fowler shot 84 Saturday. His total of 226 was one lower than Mickelson’s 227. That two golfers far out of contention became newsworthy is part of the Open’s mystique and confusion. A few rounds at a course where par is almost impossible has golfers talking — and the media listening.

“I didn’t feel like I played badly at all,” said Dustin Johnson. “Seven over, you know, usually is a terrible score, but I mean with the way the greens got this afternoon ... they were very difficult.

“A couple of putts today I could have putted off the green. But it’s the U.S. Open. It’s supposed to be tough.”

Shinnecock was. Very, very tough.

The Open: Tiger won’t win; Dustin probably will

By Art Spander

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — Halfway through a U.S. Open low in excitement and high in scoring, two assumptions are possible: Tiger Woods definitely will not win and Dustin Johnson probably will.

Neither could be considered a surprise.

Woods unquestionably was once the best golfer in the world. That was then, before aging and injuries. This is now, when Johnson could be considered the best golfer in the world. If nothing else, he’s No. 1 in the world rankings.

And after 36 holes at Shinnecock Hills Country Club, way out on Long Island, he’s in first place of this 118th Open by four strokes, at 4-under 69-67-136, the only player under par.

Woods was tied for 86^th place, meaning nowhere, because only the low 60s and ties made the cut to play in the final two rounds. Tiger wasn’t bad in Friday’s second round (stop asking, “compared to whom?”). He shot a 2-over 72. If only he hadn’t shot 78 on Thursday.

That’s when, asked about his mindset after a round that included a triple bogey and two doubles, Woods advised, “Shoot something in the 60s (Friday) and I’ll be just fine.”

He didn’t and he wasn’t. That’s what happens in sports. You can plan, you can practice, but in the end you have to produce. 

Tiger produced for years. Now the production is from Johnson, trying for his second Open championship in three years. “Dustin,” said Woods, grouped with Johnson, “was in complete control of what he’s doing.”

Such a glorious feeling in golf. In life. For everything to go the way we want it, if only for a brief while. Yet bliss can end in the blink of an eye.

In football, the line is you’re always one play away from an injury. In golf, you’re one swing away from disaster — or from success.

Johnson is well aware. He led another U.S. Open, in 2010 at Pebble Beach, and in the final round, his drive on two landed in a bunker. The next thing he and we knew, Dustin went triple bogey, double bogey, bogey on two, three and four, respectively, losing six shots like that and blowing himself out of the tournament.

What Ian Poulter did on Friday at Shinnecock wasn’t quite as severe, but it was no less unfortunate. One shot behind at eight, his 17th hole of the round, Poulter went into a bunker on his approach, bladed the sand shot and took a triple bogey. Then he bogeyed nine.

“It looks really stupid,” Poulter said of his mis-hitting. “I felt stupid knifing the first one. I felt even more stupid chunking the next one. And I didn’t do much better on the next one either.”

A humbling game, golf. Such a harsh description. Such an honest description. Tiger Woods? Five amateurs had lower scores for two rounds in this Open than Tiger. One of them, Matt Parziale, is a fireman in Brockton, Mass. He made the cut.

What a strange Open his has been, with the stars making bogies and double bogies — but Phil Mickelson at least made the cut; Jordan Spieth and Rory McIlroy did not — the weather turning from light morning wind and rain to late afternoon stillness and sunshine.

Johnson went off the 10th tee at 8:02 a.m. EDT with Woods and Justin Thomas. Conditions were less than ideal. Yet when you’re playing well, the weather is secondary. You just hit and march on.

“Starting out,” said Johnson, “through our first seven or eight holes it was breezy and overcast. So it felt like the course was playing really difficult. But I got off to a nice start. I kind of hung in there and made some good saves for pars.”

Woods, 42, had years of success. He believes he’ll find it once more, which is understandable, if not quite realistic. His putting, once magnificent, now is best described as mediocre. And there’s no record of a golfer who became a better putter as he got older.

“You don’t win major championships,” said Woods, who has won 14, “by kind of slapping all over the place and missing putts. You have to be on.”

Which is why, while others play the last two rounds, he’s off.

Tiger, Phil, Rory, Jordan battered at the Open; welcome to the past

By Art Spander

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — Welcome to the past. Welcome to the days when the U.S. Open was full of double bogies and angry faces, when the greens were as slick as a con man running a street corner crap game and players almost could lose a ball while inexorably they were losing strokes.

Sure, some people didn’t fall victim. Four golfers were even under par in Thursday’s first round at historic Shinnecock Hills, which is so far out on Long Island it seems nearer to London than Manhattan.

But they were only at 1-under, so the four, with scores of 69, Scott Piercy, Ian Poulter, Russell Henley and Dustin Johnson, shared the lead.

But that was just four golfers out of 156. On opening day, when usually at least a dozen — occasionally a dozen and a half — break par. And other than Johnson, Open winner in 2016 at Oakmont, none of the four would be labeled a marquee attraction — like Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson and Rory McIlroy.

Those guys could be found stomping around in the rough that makes America’s golfing championship the test it can be. They also could be found way, way down the scoreboard, although not as far down as Scott Gregory, a 23-year-old Englishman who having won the British Amateur two years ago upped and turned pro. Oops.

Gregory, with 10 bogies, three double-bogies, two triple-bogies and only three pars, shot a 22-over 92, the highest score in a U.S. Open in 16 years and sighed, “I didn’t get it off the tee.”

He meant onto the fairway. On a day when the wind blew in off the neighboring Atlantic, some of the more accomplished and better known golfers had the same problem.

In the morning, three of the game’s more famous competitors, Mickelson, McIlroy and Jordan Spieth, were grouped — and were battered, Mickelson shooting a 7-over 77 and coming in lowest among the threesome.

Spieth had his worst Open round ever, a 78, and McIlroy, with seven bogies, three double bogies and three birdies, shot 80.

Tiger, with an afternoon tee time, began with a triple-bogey 7, botched a comeback with consecutive double-bogies at 13 and 14 and shot an 8-over 78.

At least Woods talked after his misfortunes. So give him points for that even if his game was less than impressive.

“It was tough out there, but you shouldn’t make two doubles in a row,” said Woods. “It was frustrating because I hit the ball well. A four-putt. For most of the day, I didn’t putt well.”

Mickelson, who needs an Open for a career grand slam, and McIlroy, who lacks the Masters for his slam, signed their cards and silently slipped away — if silently is an accurate description when fans are hollering for autographs.

Spieth, who has won the Masters, U.S. and British Opens — clever grouping, huh, three guys one short of history — did speak post-round, if for someone who normally explains everything and anything, with uncharacteristic brevity.

“Very difficult,” said Spieth. “Got it off to a good start. It was hard after that. You just have to stay patient and understand that you are going to shoot four-over par once you are four-under through two holes.

“I tried to do too much on the second hole, and it kind of bit me. From there it was kind of a grind. There were certainly some dicey pins, but at the same time there were guys under par. So I could have played better.”

That’s a comment that used to be heard at Opens, where even-par or higher was the eventual winning score. In 1974, seven-over par was good enough on another New York course maybe 100 miles from Shinnecock. That led to a championship for Hale Irwin and a book about the struggle, Massacre at Winged Foot, by the late Dick Schaap.

Things were less severe after that. In fact, for a while the Open didn’t quite look like the Open.

But it did on Thursday, with tough conditions and high scores.

And you were reminded of a comment by Tony Lema, the Oakland kid who became a winner. “The Masters,” said Lema, comparing, “is fun. The U.S. Open is work.”

As it should be.

Only one Tiger Woods

By Art Spander

SOUTHAMPTON, N.Y. — It’s always been this way, hasn’t it, a world of stardom — in sports, the theater, even academics. Pavarotti was bigger than any opera in which he appeared.

In golf, it was Tiger Woods. In golf, it still is Tiger Woods.

He earned the recognition, certainly, as did Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. And yet, one could argue, the sport these days belongs to Jordan Spieth or Rory McIlroy.

What’s Tiger done lately, other than being Tiger?

You mean that isn’t enough? Then you don’t understand television. Or newspapers. Or tournament golf. Or celebrity.

Is it fair that ESPN spends so much time on Tiger when, say, he’s in 14^th place going into the final round?

Short answer: No. Next question.

So far, heading into this 118^th U.S. Open, which starts Thursday at Shinnecock Hills, the stories that haven’t been about Phil Mickelson, runner-up six times but no wins, or about Jordan Spieth, in a putting slump, have been about Woods.

About his return to the Open after missing the last three with his back problems; about the fact it’s been a decade since his last Open (and major) victory, 2008 at Torrey Pines; about his wonderful iron play and erratic putting.

In the NBA, it’s LeBron James, even though Steph Curry and Kevin Durant win titles. In the NFL, it’s Tom Brady, who does win titles. And in tennis it’s Serena Williams, who wins everything and even consents to having a documentary, “Being Serena,” made of her life and game.

Tiger is 42 and hasn’t won a PGA-sanctioned event for five years. And that makes him even more interesting. Can he still do it? Probably; you don’t lose greatness — and if so, when?

This is the last year of Woods’ U.S. Open exemption, an item that’s irrelevant. Somehow, knowing sponsors want a bang for their bucks, meaning good TV ratings, Tiger will be in the field for 2019 — at Pebble Beach, where Woods won in 2000.

For the first years of his career, after he left Stanford, turned pro and turned the game upside down and inside out, winning four majors in succession, breaking records, it was about Tiger’s golf. Then, beginning with the disclosures of infidelity, it became about Tiger’s life, the kids, the back surgeries, the recovery periods, the arrest for a DUI when he was on pain killers.

For nearly a quarter century he’s been on the course and in the headlines, captivating the purists, fascinating the curious, someone whose blend of ethnic background in an almost entirely Caucasian sport and virtually unmatched record of achievement made him unique.

And the manner in which he gained his last major, on a painfully injured knee that had him grimacing as he walked toward that ’08 Open, needing 91 holes to edge Rocco Mediate, was heroic stuff.

There’s been no one like Tiger, and while it’s dangerous to make such a prediction, surely there will never be anyone like Tiger.

So what he accomplishes from now on or fails to accomplish cannot be minimized. He’s not the best golfer these days; he remains the best story any day.

Change is inevitable in sports. Athletes grow older and decline, and while there always will be replacements, people who can hit as far, run as fast, the dynamic may be different.

Not too long ago, when Tiger was struggling, the thought — guilty, your honor — was that Rory McIlroy would be the new Tiger. Didn’t they make commercials together? Didn’t Rory win a few majors?

McIlroy is a fine golfer. So is Spieth. So are Patrick Reed, Jason Day and the others who are champions. What we have come to realize is they are not Tiger Woods. They don’t, as the cliché goes, move the needle.

The guess is that more people are wondering what Woods will do in this U.S. Open than anyone else in the field, wondering if he can find the touch with the putter that helped him to 14 major victories, four behind Nicklaus. 

“In a major,” said Woods about the Open, “the mistakes are magnified, as they should be. I’m looking forward to having the opportunity and having the challenge. Whether there’s any extra pressure, I think that’s just natural there would be.

“I mean, it’s a major championship. There’s only four of these a year.”

And in golf, only one Tiger Woods.

The Warriors own the NBA. Who would have believed?

By Art Spander

OAKLAND, Calif. — Another championship, and shortly another parade. Old hat, as they say, but not if you know about the old days, when the Warriors not only didn’t have a chance to win a title, they barely had a chance to win a game.

Those haunting years, when half the crowd at the Oracle, or as it used to be called, Oakland Coliseum Arena, seemed to be cheering for the other guys, mainly the Lakers. Before that, the Bulls. Before that, the Celtics.

Those awful seasons, 2000-01, when the Warriors won only 17 games; the others with 19 wins or 21 wins, when you knew Kobe or Shaq — or Derek Fisher, for heaven’s sake — would break a tie and break your heart. Hopeless.

Now the Warriors are in command. The NBA has become their league, pro basketball their game.

It used to belong to Boston or the Lakers. To Bird and Magic. Then to Kobe and Shaq. The power and glory have been grabbed away by Steph and KD and Klay — and others on the team that clearly has become the ruler of the sport.

We know what to expect, Draymond in an opponent’s face, Andre orchestrating, Kevin — and think how fortunate the Dubs are to get him — throwing them in when he isn’t stuffing them down, and the Splash Brothers, Curry and Thompson, hitting from here, there and everywhere.

Nobody equated Northern California with basketball success. The rest of the nation still doubts. It’s like, this must be a mistake. Weren’t the Celtics supposed to surprise? They play in ESPN’s figurative backyard. If a California team is involved, isn’t it going to be the Lakers? 

It isn’t that the A’s, Giants, Raiders and 49ers went unnoticed when they won their championships, but as a man once proclaimed on the radio, “Unless it’s the Lakers, Dodgers or USC football, nobody in the east pays attention.”

Do we, in the state with largest population, with five major league baseball teams, with four NFL teams, with three NBA and three NHL teams, care? Sure we do. But it’s not going to change.

So we’re grateful that the fate of the Warriors changed. Pleased that Joe Lacob and Peter Guber showed proper leadership; pleased that Bob Myers understands how to create a great NBA team and that Steve Kerr and his assistants, particularly Mike Brown, who a year ago became the interim man, know how to coach that team; grateful that a varied, diverse and delightfully likable group of athletes compose that team.

Basketball is game of few secrets. There’s no dugout into which a player can retreat, no helmets under which one can hide. In effect, these guys are running about in their underwear, only a few feet from the nearest spectator. We know every move LeBron made. Or J.R. Smith didn’t make.

You own up to your mistakes and gleefully — but not arrogantly — accept the accolades. Humility is only a game away. Curry sets a record with nine three-pointers, then goes 1-for-11 on 3-pointers. Hey, he has that third title. So does Northern Cal.

Perspective again. Four straight NBA Finals, three of those resulting in trophies. Did anyone believe, when the Warriors had 12 consecutive losing seasons, ’96 through ’08, and 16 of 18, that this could ever happen?

That the Warriors emerged from the agony of being one of the worst to become the very best is a tale that must be told and retold. Warrior fans deserve the chance to smile and cheer as the parade passes by. They filled the seats when it was the other team filling the baskets with jump shots and layups.

Who knows if the Warriors are a dynasty? The Celtics won eight in a row, nine out of 10; the Bulls three in a row twice, six of eight; the Lakers three in a row and numerous times in the finals as losers. So maybe the Warriors need a couple more championships before the “D” word legitimately can be applied.

No matter. They are a tremendous team, king of the hill, top of the heap, where we never thought they’d be.

Harry Edwards: ‘NFL owners own the franchise, they don’t own the players’

By Art Spander

So there are people in the NFL hierarchy who confuse praying with protesting. But of course. In the modern world, it’s perception that counts, instead of actuality.

Get off your knees, guys, or Papa John’s sales will never rebound.

The league deals with the actual game, banning certain tactics on kicks, wedge blocking or running starts by the kicking team, with the idea of improving safety.

Then it turns to political football, trying to placate the demands of a one-time wannabe NFL owner named Donald Trump

Trump is president of the United States. He wishes he were commissioner of the NFL, which on Sundays from September to February may be a more important position, if not a more enviable one.

Yes, the commish, Roger Goodell, earns something around $40 million a year, but many of his employers are deeper-pocketed, short-sighted individuals more worried about first downs than the First Amendment.

That particular item states that Congress will make no law prohibiting free speech or press or the right of people to assemble peaceably. Presumably that includes those in uniform on the sidelines.

But because Trump contends that certain maneuvers, such as kneeling during the National Anthem, displease him, and because the owners are his wealthy pals, the league recently voted that players either must stand during the anthem or stay hidden, in the locker room.

Not very intelligent, says our old friend Harry Edwards, the Cal professor emeritus in sociology who helped lead the revolt of the black athlete in the 1960s.

“Some of the owners, including Jerry Jones (of the Cowboys), are confused,” said Edwards. “They own the franchise. They don’t own the players.”

And the players, in a league that is mostly African-American, have taken it upon themselves to use their status to call attention to what they feel are injustices against blacks in America.   

Colin Kaepernick, then with the 49ers, took a stand by not standing for the Star Spangled Banner. Other players followed, Trump screamed and the owners caved, in a typically incongruous manner.

Either you stand or you stay out of sight.  

“We want to honor the flag,” Edwards said, speaking for the protestors. “We just want to show we’re better than the 147 black men being shot down.”

Edwards doesn’t blame Goodell, who he says is more observer — ever try to tell a billionaire anything? — than director. Some in charge are wiser than others. When Bill Walsh coached the 49ers to their championships, he brought in Edwards to ease problems, racial or otherwise, between players and management.

Edwards looks at the NBA as a league far ahead of the NFL. “The Warriors,” he said, “that’s the way to run a team.”

The Warriors, certainly, made it clear after winning the 2017 NBA title that they didn’t want to go to the White House and meet Trump. Now it’s the Philadelphia Eagles, as Super Bowl champions, who made it clear that they similarly did not feel comfortable visiting with the president.

Trump then withdrew the invitation.

“They disagree with their President,” said Trump of his dis-invite to the Eagles, “because he insists they proudly stand for the national anthem.”

After that, Trump added a tweet: “Honoring America, no escaping to Locker Rooms.” 

Interestingly, no Eagles player last season went to his knees during the anthem. And receiver Torrey Smith, denying that the Philly players wouldn’t show at the White House, tweeted: “So many lies. Here are the facts. No one refused to go simply because Trump insists folks stand for the anthem.”

The players, he said, countering a misconception, are not anti-military. They are just opposed to those who restrict their rights and ignore law enforcement brutality.

“The league handled the issues very poorly,” said Edwards. “To players, little things matter where the differences among teams is so slim. One player stays in the locker room, another doesn’t — that could split a team.

“Athletes now have a bigger stage than ever.”

And more to say from that stage.