This game felt like the culmination of the entire history of the sport. There was a certain finality to this match that felt bigger than just one tournament, career, or any debate. It felt like the final chapter of a hundred-year old story. I remember my birthday, July 13, 2014. Little me didn’t know that day that the story wasn’t over, no… It was still being written. I still get chills thinking about this game. Every once in a while I put it on and watch it all over again. This game we love, it owes us nothing. We love this game without expecting anything in return. Sometimes this game can be cruel. But we do it for the joy, through the pain, all for that small euphoric moment when we feel immortal. This game gives and it takes as it pleases. But on this day, for the first time, it felt like this beautiful game turned her face to acknowledge a mortal for the first time, and give one man what he was owed. What HE deserved. For everything HE gave. You couldn’t write anything this good.