WIMBLEDON — This wasn’t a torch-passing. It was more like a torch-grabbing, followed by a sprint around the bend and then another mile or two down the road.

Last year, Carlos Alcaraz beat Novak Djokovic by a whisker in the Wimbledon men’s final, taking advantage of a few rare errors from the now 24-time Grand Slam champion to win an up-and-down five-set saga that lasted nearly five hours.

He snuck away with that title. On Sunday, he hammered and danced and drop-shotted his way to a second consecutive Wimbledon men’s singles title. This was a 6-2, 6-2 7-6(7-4) drubbing of Djokovic and his surgically-repaired right knee, on a court the Serb has mostly owned for more than a decade.

When something happens twice, it ceases to be an accident, ailing knee or not.  

A deteriorating joint is the sort of thing that a 37-year-old champion who has played professional tennis for 20 years has to deal with.

It’s bad luck. It’s also life in the tennis twilight, as so many others who have gone through it can attest. It’s the sort of slow dying of the light that gives a player such as 21-year-old Alcaraz — a generational talent who plays with a joy so many other players yearn for — the chance to grab a torch and run away with it, lighting up the sport.  

For the better part of a decade, Djokovic has been the dominant player. Even last year, when Alcaraz nicked him on Centre Court, it was the lone stumble in one of his greatest seasons. He won Grand Slam titles at the Australian, French, and U.S. Opens; he won the season-ending Tour Finals; he had a No 1 next to his name in the rankings at the end of the year for a record eighth time.

All at 36 years old.

But he is 37 now.

And in seven magical weeks, beginning in Paris in late May and ending Sunday on the most famous court in the sport, Alcaraz made all that look like the last great chapter in the most decorated and accomplished career in the modern era of tennis, which began in 1968. 

Djokovic may yet rise again. He did plenty of rising at the All England Club over the past two weeks, when few would have even tried. He should be as good as a a 37-year-old fighting to keep his body in tune can be, by the time he defends his U.S. Open title in New York at the end of August. 

Forget all that for a minute, though. With this win, Alcaraz joined one of the most exclusive clubs in men’s tennis. He became the rare player who can win on the slow red clay of Roland Garros in June, then repeat the trick on the slick grass of SW19 in July.

Rod Laver. Bjorn Borg. Rafael Nadal. Roger Federer. Djokovic. And now Alcaraz. That’s it in the Open Era. With an extra chair on the end, they can fit in a booth at one of the pubs in Wimbledon Village.

Alcaraz holds the Wimbledon title for the second consecutive year (Aaron Chown/PA Images via Getty Images)

 “A huge honor to me,” the Spaniard said, as he clutched the winner’s trophy in the late-afternoon sun. “Huge champions.”

Then, he said he isn’t one of them yet. He still has a lot of work to do.

He is off to a very good start.

Djokovic called Alcaraz’s win “inevitable”, after 12 days in which the Serbian had made his surgeon, and the physical therapist who guided his rehabilitation from a meniscus operation on June 5, look like true masters of the trade. By the time he dispatched Lorenzo Musetti on Friday to cruise into his 10th Wimbledon final, and 37th Grand Slam final, he appeared to be floating across and up and down the court, as though the surgery had happened in the distant past. 

In recent years, he had won Grand Slam titles with tears in an abdominal muscle and a hamstring. At Wimbledon today, he was on the verge of doing it less than six weeks after a knee operation. 

Then, however, Alcaraz appeared on the other side of the net.

This was not the nervous, first-time Wimbledon finalist who 12 months ago lost the first five games of the final before somehow recovering from that early blitz. Alcaraz is no longer some boy wonder, and on Sunday he was a man with a championship to defend and a chance to put the sport in a headlock.

Alcaraz slid this shot over the net for a winner (Julian Finney/Getty Images)

 “He was better than me in every aspect of the game,” Djokovic said. This final may have an asterisk, one that may grow larger if Djokovic returns to being the player he was before knee surgery, or even a figment of that player. For now, it is an assessment without blemish. “Movement. He was striking the ball beautifully. From the very beginning, he was better.”  

Djokovic served first. A dozen minutes later, he was still serving, fighting with everything he had to win what is so often the meaningless first game of a match. Back and forth they went, through seven deuces and five chances for Alcaraz to break. 

Alcaraz unleashed his first outrageous shot of the day midway through those 12 minutes, a scorching forehand down the line with Djokovic rushing the net. Djokovic didn’t even bother turning his head. It’s the shot that Alcaraz lands when he is feeling his magic. 

Djokovic’s chest was rising and falling between points, his panting audible from 250 feet away. No wonder he was a half-step late to catch up with a volley, the ball dipping below the net before a furtive backhand swish of his racket sent it into the mesh. Then he sent an easy forehand sailing wide. He put himself in a hole — a hole he would spend the next 135 minutes trying to dig himself out of.

Alcaraz dragged Djokovic all over a court he has made his living room (John Walton/PA Images via Getty Images)

Afterwards, he thought back to last year’s epic five-set loss.

“We went toe-to-toe,” Djokovic said, with a mix of pride for having gotten so far so soon after his surgery, and resignation about how dramatically the dynamic had shifted in 12 months. “This year, it was nothing like that. It was all about him. He was the dominant force.”

It’s something everyone is probably going to have to get used to, if they haven’t already.

Jannik Sinner of Italy, the 23-year-old Australian Open champion, remains the world No. 1, because of the complicated formula the sport uses for its rankings. Alcaraz is likely to be back there before too long. Plus, no matter what the rankings say, the Spaniard is now the sport’s alpha dog, a four-time Grand Slam champion with a game that is still developing. He is capable of tennis acrobatics that he relishes almost as much as does winning – and sometimes more. He does plenty of both.

“Shotmaker” doesn’t do the flair of his game justice. Alcaraz is a shot creator, a player who has to always be innovating and improvising, pushing the limits of what he can do with a racket and ball.

After muffing three championship points on his own serve, Alcaraz had to reset to push the final set to a tiebreak and ward off Djokovic one last time.

As he rushed the net, Djokovic fired a ball at his shoelaces. Alcaraz skipped up and dipped the top of his racket to the grass. Somehow, he made the ball spin just over the net. He tried to fight off a grin as he walked back to start the next point, shaking his finger at the crowd.

Alcaraz’s finesse in the front of the court made a huge difference (Frey/TPN via Getty Images)

Then he cracked a 120mph second serve like those three match points had never happened, and then it was the tiebreak and then it was deja vu from Paris. Alcaraz climbed into the stands once more, joining a clump with his team, a three-way embrace with his parents, and then the longest hug of all with Juan Carlos Ferrero, the former world No 1, his coach and tennis father since he was 14.

He knew what he had pulled off, as he rose into the rarefied air of the French Open-Wimbledon double club, ready to sink into another year as the champion of the most important tournament in the sport.  

He’s on the road to where he wants to go, still emerging while already a star.

“It’s good for tennis to have new faces,” he said.

Especially him, the brightest new face of all.

(Photos: Getty Images; design: Dan Goldfarb)

Pittsburgh Pirates phenom pitcher Paul Skenes has wowed everyone in baseball with what he has done since being called up in May, and Tuesday night will notch another milestone under his belt as he is set to start the All-Star Game for the National League. 

Skenes, who has a 1.90 ERA over 11 starts this season, has earned the start, and one of the hitters who could be facing him at Globe Life Field in Arlington, Texas, sung high praise for a pitcher he believes will not be one-and-done at these types of games. 

“Gotten a chance to watch a couple of his games the past couple weeks since he got called up, and it’s special stuff, man. Electric stuff,” New York Yankees reigning American League MVP Aaron Judge said during an All-Star Game media availability on Monday. 

All the talk surrounding Skenes is his electric arm that can dial up a fastball to triple digits on the radar gun. However, when Judge watches him on the mound, he sees much more than a power arm, which is why he has had early success. 

“You can talk about the velocity of his pitches and what he does, but the guy’s a pitcher, man,” Judge explained. “He can work all three, four, five of his pitches. Throw it to every part of the zone any count. He’s a complete pitcher.

“It’s going to be fun. I think we’re all excited to see him on the mound, see him do his thing, especially in his first All-Star Game. Getting the nod to be a starter, it’s impressive, man. Definitely looking forward to facing him.”

There is a chance Judge will not face Skenes despite batting fourth in the American League All-Star lineup on Tuesday. Pitchers usually do not go more than one inning in All-Star Games, not only to conserve arms for the second half of the regular season, but also to get every All-Star a chance to pitch in the game. 

If Skenes goes 1-2-3 in the first inning and is taken out after that, Judge will be facing someone else in the bottom of the second inning. 

However, Judge’s Yankees teammate Juan Soto will be hitting third in the AL order. 

“I’ll make sure he faces him,” Soto said on MLB Network’s broadcast alongside Judge before the MLB Home Run Derby on Monday night. 

PIRATES ROOKIE PHENOM PAUL SKENES MAKES MLB HISTORY WITH ANOTHER DOMINATING OUTING

Aaron Judge, #99 of the New York Yankees, takes batting practice during the 2024 Gatorade All-Star Workout Day at Globe Life Field on Monday, July 15, 2024 in Arlington, Texas. (Mary DeCicco/MLB Photos via Getty Images)

Soto also praised Skenes. 

“He’s incredible. It’s incredible to see a guy like that put in the performances he’s been doing. He’s a young guy just coming in, coming up, showing his stuff and everything. It’s pretty electric stuff, so we’ll see how it goes,” he said.

Judge was asked what he would be thinking about in the batter’s box if he does face Skenes.

“The approach? Don’t blink,” he said, laughing. “That ball is coming in pretty fast.”

Skenes is just getting started for his career, and he is already notching franchise and league rookie records while proving he is one of the best in the game right now with the ball in his hand. 

If health is on his side, Skenes should be featured at the All-Star Games many times as he continues to play in MLB, and Judge wants to see it. 

Aaron Judge, #99 of the New York Yankees, speaks to the media during Gatorade All-Star Workout Day at Globe Life Field on July 15, 2024 in Arlington, Texas. (Gene Wang/Getty Images)

“He’s going to be one of the top pitchers in this game for a long time, so it’s going to be exciting to get a chance to face him in this first one, and I know he’s going to have multiple All-Star Game starts for years to come. This is pretty cool,” he said. 

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As he walked into the Four Seasons, Matt Damon did not know what to expect. The actor had just received a phone call asking if he wanted to meet Ted Williams. Damon did not need to think twice. “Absolutely,” he said.

Both were in Boston for the same reason. The 1999 Major League All-Star Game was set to unfold at historic Fenway Park on July 13. In addition to the normal festivities, 31 of the greatest living ballplayers would be introduced as part of an “All-Century Team” promotion to recognize the best players of the 20th century. After the legends walked in from center field, Williams would throw out the first pitch in what would become a unique moment in the sport’s history.

Damon, then 28, had already lived out a childhood dream. To prepare for the All-Star Celebrity Challenge, he had been able to take batting practice around midnight with his dad and others at Fenway. He had grown up attending Red Sox games, paying scalpers a few bucks for bleacher seats. Suddenly, he was taking cuts in the same park that Yaz and Pudge once called home.

“We literally said as we were coming home in this van at 1 a.m., maybe we should just go to the top of the Prudential building and jump. It’s never going to get better than this,” Damon told The Athletic. “We couldn’t believe they let us on the field. They were painting the lines as we were playing.”

Now he was about to meet Williams.

Damon was told the Hall of Famer had just finished a television interview. Approaching 81, Williams was not in great health. But Damon instantly noticed that the “Splendid Splinter” still had the booming voice. Still had a commanding presence. He introduced himself and told Williams that he had grown up in Boston. And that he had read his book as a kid.

“Bull—-! You didn’t read my book,” Williams said.

“I really did,” Damon said. “‘The Science of Hitting.’ I read your book.”

“All right, what do I say is the most important thing?”

“Get a good pitch to hit,” he said.

Williams jumped up and hugged the young actor.

Leading up to the event’s 25th anniversary, The Athletic talked with nearly 30 players, broadcasters and baseball officials who were at Fenway that July evening. Few remembered the final score — it was an All-Star game, after all — but nearly everyone remembered with great fondness the pregame ceremony, which involved perhaps the greatest collection of baseball talent ever assembled.

Pregame activities are scripted. Everything runs on schedule. Yet the 1999 All-Star Game is remembered for its spontaneity, and not for reasons you might think.

To start, no one knew for sure what to expect from Williams, ornery as ever in his later years.

Then-Boston general manager Dan Duquette had first invited the Red Sox legend and his son John Henry months earlier, a telephone conversation Duquette said unfolded like this:

Duquette: “Ted, we got the All-Star Game here in July and we’d love to have you here to throw out the first pitch.”

Williams: “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m up for it. I haven’t been up there in a long time.”

Duquette: “Ted, you know you were the MVP of the last All-Star Game here in Boston.”

Williams: “God—- right I was. Let me talk to John Henry and call me back in a week.”

This went on for a month.

Former St. Louis Cardinals slugger Mark McGwire says the pregame ceremony was one of the greatest experiences he’s had on a baseball field, something he doubts could be duplicated. “It takes a lot to get me in awe of things. I think that was one of the first times I was in awe,” McGwire said.

Former Boston pitcher Pedro Martinez, who would capture game MVP honors after a dominating All-Star performance, says he could tell while warming up in the bullpen that the night would be special. The buzz was unmistakable. “There’s never going to be an All-Star game like that one,” Martinez said.

Former Colorado outfielder Larry Walker was so moved he took home a patch of Fenway turf he had kicked up during his time in right field. Walker slipped the grass into a baggy and placed it in a home refrigerator, adding water to help keep it alive, a science experiment that ultimately failed.

“I’m just a jock. I don’t keep grass alive for a living so I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with it,” Walker said. “It just seemed like a cool thing to do in the moment.”

The All-Century team walked out from behind a red curtain in “Field of Dreams” style. Actor Kevin Costner, a huge baseball fan, announced the accomplishments of each member, a group that included Henry Aaron, Willie Mays and Stan Musial, baseball royalty.

The National and American League All-Star teams were next, lining up on the baselines. Donna Summer sang the National Anthem. Then came the main event.

Williams appeared from behind the red curtain riding next to longtime Red Sox employee Al Forester in a golf cart. Public address announcer Ed Brickley handled the introduction.

“He wore the Red Sox uniform for 22 years. He wore the uniform of the United States Marines for four and a half more. …

“He was the last man to hit .400 in a season, and he did it 58 years ago. He hit 521 home runs, including one on his last at-bat. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the greatest hitter that ever lived, No. 9, Hall of Famer, baseball legend …”

Williams removed his hat and raised it with his right hand, acknowledging the crowd, something he famously avoided as a player because of his rocky relationship with Boston fans.

Standing beside his teammates, Philadelphia pitcher Paul Byrd thought about the time he had met Williams eight years earlier. In 1991, President George H. W. Bush invited the LSU baseball team to the White House to celebrate the Tigers’ national championship. As it turned out, Williams and Joe DiMaggio were also there for the 50th anniversary of the 1941 season, the year Williams hit .406 and DiMaggio hit in 56 consecutive games.

For Byrd, meeting Williams was like meeting John Wayne.

“There are certain moments you don’t forget,” Byrd said. “The first time your wife tells you she’s pregnant. When you get that call to the big leagues. Where you were when 9/11 happened. Some are good, some are bad. But when you meet Ted Williams for the first time and shake his hand, you don’t forget that moment.”

As Williams rode to the infield, Mets catcher Mike Piazza thought about the day the Boston icon had visited his home with a scout who was a friend of his father’s and watched a teenage Piazza hit in his backyard batting cage. Impressed, Williams told Piazza he attacked the ball better than he did at that age. It gave Piazza confidence that he had a future in baseball.

Fred Lynn watched from the “600 Club,” a VIP area located behind home plate. The former Boston Red Sox star had first met Williams after a home game during his rookie season. In 1975, Lynn was in the midst of an MVP season, and Williams wanted to check him out. They were similar, both left-handed hitters. Lynn positioned his hands differently but their swings had similar arcs. Williams asked Lynn for his theory on hitting. “I see it, I hit it,” Lynn answered.

He could tell Williams was not impressed.

In the 600 Club, Lynn watched Williams and the cart stop near the pitcher’s mound. For the past two days, he had participated in All-Star events. Lynn knew how big this night was for Boston. He wondered how the moment was translating onto television.

For years, it’s been said that the All-Stars decided on their own to surround Williams near the pitcher’s mound.

In interviews for this story, several players said that’s how they remember it. A completely organic moment.

Michael Weisman, a producer on the Fox broadcast, told The Athletic that he had suggested in an advance meeting that the players and legends move in to congregate around each other. Steve Hellmuth, who was the senior vice president of MLB Productions, said an MLB official waved the All-Stars toward Williams.

“On paper, the plan was Ted Williams rolls in,” Weisman said. “Standing ovation, Fenway Park, he comes to the mound, the players congregate, he throws the first pitch. COMMERCIAL. That’s the way it was rehearsed. That would have been terrific.”

Two things happened that delayed the sequence: One, Williams, with tears in his eyes, embraced the moment and started talking with the All-Stars. Two, Weisman said, the ball for the first pitch could not be located. This caused problems for the television folks, who were under pressure to keep everything on schedule.

Broadcaster Joe Buck was already emotional. Fox had come back from commercial as Williams had been introduced and Buck was thinking about his father, Jack Buck, who had interviewed Williams throughout his broadcasting career. Joe Buck recalled Weisman in his ear, saying, “We’re back! We’re back!” but he could not talk.

“I was choked up,” said Buck, recalling the moment Williams tipped his cap. “Nothing would come out. I couldn’t speak. And I’m so glad I didn’t.”

As Williams talked with the All-Stars, an executive producer pleaded with Weisman, “Go to commercial! There’s no ball!”

Weisman knew he could not risk missing Williams and the first pitch. No way he was going to commercial. “The ball will show up at any minute!” he said.

Buck and analyst Tim McCarver remained silent, letting the moment breathe. Weisman cranked the mics on two handheld cameras he had on the field, allowing the nation to eavesdrop on an unscripted conversation, baseball’s past meeting its present.

“It struck me then and it strikes me to this day, these are the heroes of the game and they were like little boys in Ted Williams’ presence,” Weisman said. “It was like a kid coming up to a current ball player and saying, ‘Please, sir, can I have an autograph?’ It was so cool.”

Williams greeted Sammy Sosa, Cal Ripken Jr. and Boston shortstop Nomar Garciaparra. He called out for McGwire and asked if he ever smelled smoke after fouling off a pitch.

“Of all places, right?” McGwire said, laughing. “We’re on the mound at the All-Star game in front of everybody, and he’s asking me a personal question. I said, ‘Yes, it’s happened to me all the time.’ I thought I was really the only one who ever smelled that.”

Brickley, the PA announcer, asked players to return to the dugouts so Williams could throw out the first pitch. But Williams kept talking. Pittsburgh third baseman Ed Sprague said it was like a grandfather telling stories on a couch before dinner. Atlanta outfielder Brian Jordan said he just wanted to stay among the legends and absorb their greatness.

“He couldn’t have cared less if there were 40,000 people waiting, and the PA and TV networks,” Padres closer Trevor Hoffman said of Williams. “It was like, ‘You’re in my house and I got all the pups around me.’ And he just kind of held court.”

Ted Williams, second from right, talks to Cal Ripken Jr. as Juan Marichal and Frank Robinson listen in on the conversation. (Matt York / AFP via Getty Images)

Finally, the baseball turned up.

John Henry helped his father out of the golf cart. San Diego outfielder Tony Gwynn handed the ball to Williams and steadied the Hall of Famer as he prepared to throw. The two had history. In 1994, Gwynn was linked to Williams as he chased .400, a quest halted in August because of a players’ strike. Later, the two had discussed hitting during a memorable interview with Bob Costas.

“My dad revered Ted Williams, so when he was asked to be one of the guys to kind of walk Ted out, he was honored,” Tony Gwynn Jr. said of Gwynn, who died in 2014 of cancer. “He talked about that for years.”

Baseball officials once asked Larry Cancro, a Red Sox official who was heavily involved in the planning of the 1999 All-Star Game, about how to create spontaneous moments such as this, as if the magic on this night could be duplicated. Amused, Cancro told them: “Well, planning a spontaneous moment is by definition not spontaneous.”

“There’s something about baseball,” said the actor D.B. Sweeney, who played Shoeless Joe Jackson in “Eight Men Out” and sat behind home plate that night in Fenway. “It just draws that emotion out of you, unlike any other sport.”

The All-Stars remained in awe as they returned to the dugouts. “It was like, ‘Holy s–t, bro. That just happened,’” Houston pitcher Mike Hampton said.

Then reality hit.

“It was time to wake up and face Pedro,” Cincinnati’s Barry Larkin said.

Although the Williams moment could not be topped, Martinez did his best to try. He had dominated the season’s first half, going 15-3 with a 2.10 ERA. Leading up to All-Star week, Martinez knew this would be a big night. Then before the game, he met Aaron, who told him he looked forward to watching him pitch. If the Red Sox ace hadn’t been locked in before, he was now. Martinez was determined to honor the legends and show them that baseball excellence could translate to any era.

“You look back at that year, Pedro had the best fastball, the best curveball and the best changeup,” Ripken said. “He just had total command.”

Larkin fouled off three 95-plus mph Martinez fastballs, working a 2-2 count. “Then he threw me a changeup and I was like, ‘What the hell was that?’” Larkin said. He swung, missed and became the first strikeout victim.

Martinez struck out Walker on four pitches. He fanned Sosa on five. To start the second inning, Martinez struck out McGwire, giving him four strikeouts in a row. After Arizona’s Matt Williams reached on an error, Martinez fanned Houston’s Jeff Bagwell, finishing off one of the more dominating pitching performances in All-Star history.

“All of those guys were having unbelievable years, but McGwire and Sosa mostly represented the offense of baseball, the home-run hitters, and I just decided I’d see how special (they were) against someone who was also dominating,” Martinez said. “I said, ‘It’s talent against talent. Mano y mano. Let’s see who comes out of it.’”

Pedro Martinez eventually got Mark McGwire with a high fastball for his fourth strikeout of the night. (Ezra O. Shaw / Allsport)

After a 4-1 American League win, Martinez was voted MVP, a storybook ending for a perfect night in Boston. After talking to news reporters, Martinez met with Williams up in the Hall of Famer’s box.

Williams teased Martinez about facing mostly right-handed hitters during his two All-Star innings, avoiding a power-hitting left-hander like himself. Martinez laughed.

“You are one hell of a pitcher,” Williams said.

Williams signed a game program for Martinez. Along with the pregame conversation he had had with Aaron, the Boston ace considered it more valuable than his MVP trophy. His jersey was later sent to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum in Cooperstown.

Martinez realized something else. The 1999 All-Star Game had unfolded during the steroid era. Whether he liked it or not, Martinez was a part of this. That’s why it felt so good that night to be around Williams, Aaron, Mays, Reggie Jackson and others.

“Because those guys did it in the right way,’’ Martinez said. “And I wanted to do it right because I knew I was clean and I never did anything. I wanted them to see someone that was for real.”

The night was full of memories. Damon and his father watched the game from box seats on the third-base side. Late in the contest, they were invited up to visit with Williams in his suite. For an inning, they hung out and ate hot dogs with the greatest hitter who ever lived.

When the night was over, Kent Damon, who had played collegiate baseball and coached high school freshmen in retirement, told his son that this had been the greatest weekend of his life. “My dad and I talked about it all the way up to his death in 2017,” Damon said.

(Top photo of Ted Williams waving to the crowd: Ezra O. Shaw / Allsport)