Roger Federer been touted for so long as a future grand-slam champion and failed so consistently that it became possible to start doubting the authenticity of his genius. Until Friday's semi-finals when he gave a performance of sublime quality that swept aside the chest-puffing young American Andy Roddick and established himself as the unmistakable favourite to beat Mark Philippoussis in this afternoon's final.
It is easy to overlook the fact that Federer is still only 21. He came forward as a player of exceptional promise in 1998 when he rose to the top of the International Tennis Federation's junior rankings. Almost straight away, the facility with which the young man from Basel executed his all-court play marked him out from the ranks of the baseline sluggers who dominate, numerically at least, the modern game. It was not long before the word was going about that he had the array of shots and the easy shuffle to the net that might one day make him a Wimbledon champion.
Since then, Federer's progress has been faltering, even though it has always been on an upward incline. In 1998 he reached the quarter-finals of a tour event in Toulouse and by the end of the following year was already ranked in the top 100 in the world. But it was still not until 2001 that he won his first title and by the start of this year he had added only three more. And his grand-slam record was uneven, with his outstanding performances - notably his win over Pete Sampras at Wimbledon two years ago that ended the great American's long hold on the title - matched by as many first-round failures.
When he lost in the opening round of Wimbledon last year to Mario Ancic, a Croatian ranked 154th, he described how he had practised with Tim Henman the day before 'and I got my butt kicked. Maybe that was on my mind a little.' His coach, the Swede Peter Lundgren, said that Federer panicked and 'got very uncomfortable on the court'. His temperament became a major issue whenever his prospects were discussed, and it was generally agreed that the player he was going to lose to most consistently was himself.
It is unlikely that Friday's win over Roddick has rid him, in the space of barely two hours, of a lifetime's doubt and self-questioning - he will still recall another first-round upset, against Peru's Luis Horna in the French Open at the end of May - but the manner in which he disposed of the fifth seed and favourite for the title must surely have convinced him that he has a game touched by something a little special.
Federer was brought up in the suburb of Munchenstein, not far from the centre of Basel. His father, Robert, and South Africa-born mother, Lynnette, were keen tennis players but nothing special. They introduced their son - they also have an older daughter, Diana, who is a trainee nurse - to tennis when he was eight. It was not long before his prematurely developed talent came to the notice of the brilliant Australian coach Peter Carter who would become his mentor (and whose death in a car accident in 2001 did little to ease the uncertainties that were afflicting his play).
Early on, Federer gained a reputation for being a hothead, which is hard to believe as you watch him go placidly about his business these days. 'I was always acting bad on court,' he remembers, 'throwing my rackets. My parents hated it. When I acted badly and lost, they would say nothing during the car ride home, which was the worst. But I just couldn't keep my emotions under control.'
He had an unhappy time at the national training centre near Lausanne, mainly because it was two hours from his home and in the French-speaking part of Switzerland as opposed to the German-speaking, where he lived. 'I couldn't speak the language and I didn't know anybody. And, of course, they were making fun of me,' he says, revealing yet another reason for his feelings of insecurity.
He responded, though, by giving expression to his inherent talent as a tennis player, winning the junior singles and doubles titles at Wimbledon in 1998 and later on the Orange Bowl title that is an unofficial world championship.
The style of his play then was much as it is today, although the 2003 version obviously has added power. He is quite simply a fabulously deft stroke-maker who, when playing as he did against Roddick, seems almost preternaturally gifted. There is something a little old-fashioned about him, something to do with the effortless one-handed backhand, probably, and the way he does things so unfussily, no harpist string-twanging à la Hewitt and none of his former histrionics.
He is inevitably compared to Sampras, given the classical nature of his groundstrokes, the multi-faceted serve that gives no clue to an opponent in which direction the ball is about to travel and the way he shimmies over the ground, apparently leaving the nap of the grass undisturbed as he moves forward to dispatch a volley with the feel of a surgeon making his first incision. He may also take comfort from the fact that at his first three Wimbledons Sampras won only one match. (Federer won just four at his first four.)
Today's final reclaims the grass for those who play on it properly. Last year, six baseliners made it to the quarter-finals and two of them, Lleyton Hewitt and David Nalbandian, went all the way to an undistinguished final (won by Hewitt in straight sets). This time there will be serve-and-volleyers on either side of the net, which is why it would almost certainly be a mistake to believe that Federer will deal as summarily with Philippoussis as he did with Roddick.
Roddick played into Federer's hands by, inexplicably, staying back most of the time. He came forward only on those rare occasions when the unravelling of a rally demanded it. The Swiss favourite can expect no such reticence from Philippoussis, who is certain to come charging in behind his big delivery and yield breaks of serve far less readily than Roddick did.
Still, Federer is unlikely to be denied. As big as Philippoussis's serve is, he will have to be bang on target every time if he is not to feel the wind of Federer's returns rushing past him as he careers towards the net, and throughout this tournament the Australian has struggled to maintain his accuracy.
Earlier this year, an American tennis magazine that featured Federer as its main story put on the cover: 'Roger Federer. He's supposed to be the next great player. So what's he waiting for?' Wimbledon 2003, I suspect.
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