I’ve barely played in the last year, and when I’ve played, I’ve played badly, so I’m the lowest-seeded defending champ in Wimbledon history.

Days before my thirty-third birthday, I’m the oldest player ever ranked number one.

Now, just a three wood from that spot, I’m playing hackers and has-beens. In other words, my peers. A challenger is the definition of small-time, and nowhere is this more evident than in the players’ lounge. The pre-match meal is airplane food: rubber chicken, limp veggies, flat soda.