Thursday morning found me at a bar in the Charlotte airport watching the epic John Isner and Kevin Bacon - I mean Nicolas Mahut - match. A man pulled up a chair next to me and ordered a beer. He looked more like a NASCAR than a Wimbledon guy, but a TV screen, no matter what's on it, is a powerful thing; his gaze lifted toward it. The score at the time was 62-62 in the fifth set. "I'd say those two," the man observed quietly, "are pretty evenly matched."
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