OK, true story: Several weeks ago during the French Open, I had a dream in which I saw Novak Djokovic – dressed in blazing white, legs spread in typical Nole-Gumby fashion – leaning forward on a grass court, butt up in the air as he drew a white line on the green with his racket and wept.

“My God,” I thought to myself, “he’s going to win Wimbledon this year.”

Which he did, defeating Roger Federer 6-7 (7), 6-4, 7-6 (4), 5-7, 6-4 in the battle of the fertile male tennis titans. (Feddy and wife Mirka recently welcomed their second set of twins, while Nole and fiancée Jelena Ristic are expecting their first child this fall. So they have a bit of catching up to do in that tournament.)

It was no easy victory, but then for our dear Nole (pronounced "no-LAY"), it never is, is it?