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DROP SHOTS PERFECT SCORE
S.L. PRICE
July 09, 2012
Something rare and curious occurred at Wimbledon last Saturday: For the first time since the Open era began, in 1968, a player at a Grand Slam event played a set flawlessly. Kazakhstan's Yaroslava Shvedova won a "golden set"—24 straight points—in beating Italy's Sara Errani 6--0, 6--4. Then something even more rare and curious occurred: Almost no one really cared. Sure, there was some reaction. "At Wimbledon in the third round?" said Hall of Famer Tracy Austin. "Against the French Open runner-up? It's out of this world." But after that, the tennis equivalent of a perfect game evoked a collective shrug. "If you lose a set 20--18 in the tiebreak, it's the same," Errani said. "You lost the set." Shvedova, who would lose to Serena Williams on Monday, didn't even know what she had accomplished until well after the Errani match. "I don't think it's that big a deal," she said. And Austin knew the term golden set only because the only other pro to win one—Bill Scanlon, in 1983—brings it up whenever he sees her. Who can blame him? All too quietly, he (and now Shvedova) achieved one of sport's unthinkables. It should matter more.
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July 09, 2012

Drop Shots Perfect Score

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Something rare and curious occurred at Wimbledon last Saturday: For the first time since the Open era began, in 1968, a player at a Grand Slam event played a set flawlessly. Kazakhstan's Yaroslava Shvedova won a "golden set"—24 straight points—in beating Italy's Sara Errani 6--0, 6--4. Then something even more rare and curious occurred: Almost no one really cared. Sure, there was some reaction. "At Wimbledon in the third round?" said Hall of Famer Tracy Austin. "Against the French Open runner-up? It's out of this world." But after that, the tennis equivalent of a perfect game evoked a collective shrug. "If you lose a set 20--18 in the tiebreak, it's the same," Errani said. "You lost the set." Shvedova, who would lose to Serena Williams on Monday, didn't even know what she had accomplished until well after the Errani match. "I don't think it's that big a deal," she said. And Austin knew the term golden set only because the only other pro to win one—Bill Scanlon, in 1983—brings it up whenever he sees her. Who can blame him? All too quietly, he (and now Shvedova) achieved one of sport's unthinkables. It should matter more.

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