La Monf's date with Mr Destiny wasn't nearly as competitive or as intensely fought as I expected. A surprisingly unextravagant well ordered affair.
Where were those primaeval screams, that fevered whipping up of the crowd, those rallies he plays like he's dodging bullets?
Yes order was restored to RG today, and after the multi-dimensional topsy-turviness we've had, I'm not ashamed of admitting I'm finding it a little tough to swallow - a bit like watching a daytime chatshow after the Director's Cut of Fight Club.
The only match that came close to firing me up was the Serena-Sveta quarter final, one in which Sveta -- after some of her usual jitteriness -- came through by doing what many of us loyal fans have been wanting to see for years: daring to use her natural shotmaking ability at the moments where it matters most.
So there it is. Mr Destiny still has a date with Destiny. Del Potro's through to his first semi. And The Unsightly Forehand takes on The Forehand.
No Serena Slam. No Masha Career Slam. Instead accompanying Marat's little sister, we have a gutsier version of Sveta. An Aussie doubles specialist that can kick her serve. And a feisty Slovakian that can clearly punch beyond her weight (and height).
So not that ordered after all...
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