Roger Federer, the fairytale man

When you think about Wimbledon, you think of class, elegance and old school glory. And those ideas are reinforced by the way Wimbledon markets itself - right from its all-white dress code and advertisement-free walls to the hauntingly beautiful videos it puts out to mark the start of each year's play.

When you think of Roger Federer, you think of...class, elegance and old-school glory. Not just in the way he plays on the court, but also in the way he conducts himself off it. Violins, pianos and orchestral music were seemingly invented just to be played as background music for every video showcasing Federer's skills. Exhibit A: the Rolex ads that come up whenever he's about to start playing a tournament.

Notice how the Rolex commercial could have easily passed for a Wimbledon advertisement? The ethos of Wimbledon and Federer are eerily similar, as we are reminded year after year. They are both stubbornly traditional and delightfully old-school, and they've both also adapted to the times and retained their relevance amid all the artlessness that we see around us.

But when Federer began his career way back in 1998, who could have imagined that he would make his unique Wimbledon connection such a monumental part of tennis history? For a player seemingly born to play at Wimbledon, winning one title there would have been enough of a fairytale. But winning eight, to become the most decorated male Wimbledon champion of all time? That is beyond comprehension.

It all just fits so...perfectly. With seven titles, Federer had to share the dais with Pete Sampras, who used a titanic serve and brutal groundstrokes to rule SW19 for a decade. But now, the patrons of the All-England Club can call a graceful touch artist as their greatest champion. Could any of them have hoped for anything more?

There were hiccups on the way, of course. The two losses to Novak Djokovic in 2014 and 2015 suggested it would never happen again for Federer at a Slam - something that he himself alluded to in his victory speech today. Then there was the ungainly fall against Milos Raonic last year, which hastened his exit from the tournament and prompted a six-month layoff.

Yet here we are now, one year removed from that seemingly fateful evening, with Federer holding the Wimbledon trophy again and closing in on the World No. 1 ranking. Is it possible that we are all just living in a world dreamed up by the Swiss, and that none of this has actually happened? I wouldn't be altogether shocked if we were; 2017 does seem too good to be true.

For Marin Cilic though, it must probably feel too cruel to be true. Here was a man who had blasted through the draw like a madman, looking very much like his imperious 2014 US Open self. Many experts felt he was primed to seriously challenge Federer once again (some even picked him to win), and make up for his squandered match points in the quarterfinal last year. His serve was clicking and his groundstrokes were firing all through the tournament, and it seemed a given that he would, at the very least, be the first player to take a set off the Swiss this year.

All of that came crashing down on a single point. Cilic had a break point with Federer serving at 1-2 in the first set, and he was looking like the stronger player up to that stage. Federer missed the first serve, and all Cilic had to do was crush his return on the second and take the ascendancy in the rally. But Federer served a kicker out wide, and Cilic netted his backhand return. And just like that, the moment had passed.

Federer was never threatened on serve after that, and Cilic crumbled with an alarming quickness. Mid-way through the second set he seemed to be suffering from both physical and mental discomfort, and he was seen sobbing into his towel during one of the changeovers. No longer moving with the freedom of his previous six matches, he opted to make ill-advised forays to the net almost every second point - and Federer calmly handed him a breadstick.

The third set was a mere formality, even though Cilic regained his composure and his feet (a medical timeout between sets was, as the cliche goes, just what the doctor ordered). Federer got the decisive break in the seventh game, and served it out with a minimum of fuss. He ended the match, fittingly, with an ace - his eighth of the match, to bring up his eighth Wimbledon title.

And oh, did you know that eight is Federer's favourite number?

Alright, I may be reaching a little with that. But considering the number of times that Federer has gone ahead and performed exactly as per the script, it's hard to think anything in his life is a coincidence.

He is expected to play beautiful tennis, and he does. He is expected to dominate the field without any shenanigans, and he delivers. He is expected to be the consummate family man, and his beautiful wife and kids quickly line up for a picture-perfect Kodak moment. He is expected to come out of a six-month break and work wonders, and he wins the first tournament of his comeback (a Grand Slam at that). He is expected to become the undisputed king of Wimbledon, and he gets to his eighth without dropping a set.

Heck, even his children seem like they came straight out of a fairytale. Two sets of identical twins? Get out of here!

It's often been said that there's nothing that Federer can't do on the court. But maybe we should change that refrain to: "there's nothing that Federer can't do in life." Yeah, I may be reaching again here. But when you see someone win Wimbledon without dropping a set (which hasn't been done since Bjorn Borg won the title in 1976) just three weeks shy of his 36th birthday, and that too in the Golden Age of men's tennis, you can't help but search for outlandish analogies. Call it the Federer effect, if you will.

The man has given no indication he wants to stop, and we will see his magnificently orchestrated groundstrokes burning up the hardcourts soon. And the pianos and violins will start playing in our heads again, reaching a crescendo when the majestic arc of that backhand sends the ball thudding into the corner for a winner.

But we will have to remind ourselves, time and time again, that this is not a fairytale. This is life. Roger Federer's life.