The greatest tennis players are often best remembered for a signature shot – Rafael Nadal's forehand or Chris Evert's backhand or Roger Federer's just-about-anything.
Novak Djokovic has any number of superlative weapons at his disposal, but one suspects he will be remembered for something else – running. No player has ever had so much effective speed on a tennis court.
The Serb puts one in mind of a variation on the old football superlative: "71 per cent of the Earth's surface is covered by water. The rest is covered by Djokovic."
He used that speed, coupled with circus precision, to run Andy Murray into the ground on Sunday, 3-6, 6-1, 6-2, 6-4.
It wasn't that the Scotsman played poorly. He just couldn't keep up.
During the final break in play, after more than three hours of competition, Djokovic sat vibrating in his chair. Legs jackhammering up and down. Eyes darting around the arena. He was already out standing on the service line when the umpire called time.
Murray sat there leaden, head hanging, eyes vacant. He is as good an athlete as there is on tour and he was done.
It is hard to measure Djokovic's stamina relative to itself because he never seems tired. It can be never be too hot or too humid (and it was sticky on Sunday in Paris). He never sweats. Djokovic mops his brow more as a nervous tic.
To fully appreciate that tirelessness, you must contrast Djokovic's endurance with that of other high-level competitors. On that basis, no one's even close. Djokovic may be the fittest athlete to ever play the sport.
(Mental note: Rummage through cupboards once back home and throw out all gluten. Which I can only assume means "all food.")
Once Djokovic had won it, he had the decency to pretend exhaustion. He slumped to the clay and stayed there a while. His chest was heaving. It was the first time all day he'd seemed in the least bit uncomfortable.
He shook hands, then bent at the waist while Murray trudged off. Was this the emotion of the moment or a backhand compliment – "You sure tired me out, buddy"? If so, Murray wasn't buying. You could see that much in his eyes. He knew he'd been steamrolled by a better player and wasn't in the mood to play on-camera footsies.
It is Murray's curse that he will always be linked with Djokovic, and almost always found wanting. They've now met in seven Grand Slam finals. Djokovic's won five of them, including the past four.
The Serb's had a lot of big days recently, but Sunday was the biggest of them. Winning the French Open for the first time completes the compulsory portion of his "Best to ever play" CV. He now has a complete set of slams and 12 in all. He's also won four in a row – something neither Federer nor Nadal ever managed.
Everything's running his way. As he received the trophy, the sun peaked through for the first time in days.
"A big moment," Djokovic said in French during the postmatch on-court interview. "Maybe the biggest moment of my career."
No one in tennis works a crowd harder – or more effectively – than Djokovic. Hell, he may even mean it.
As is his habit, Murray didn't try quite as hard.
"I don't speak French," he said in English. Then he continued on in English.
Not even one lousy "je t'aime." Best believe they'll remember that next time.
As of Monday morning, the big four will once again be ranked that way in the men's standings: Djokovic, Murray, Federer, Nadal.
For nostalgic reasons, one continues to hope that the latter two have at least one major championship left in them. For Nadal, it is a question of sustained good health. For Federer, a question of timing and luck.
Murray is fully capable of winning more, but he continues to play two opponents – Djokovic and himself.
All of Murray's worst irritable tendencies were on display on Sunday. When he seemed to have the match in hand in the first set, he took several moments out to scream at a French TV journalist who'd skulked into the midst of his entourage.
"Get him out of the box," Murray yelled and pointed.
Later, when it was slipping away, he began chirping to people in the stands in unprintable terms.
Some guys talk their way into matches or out of matches. A few, like Andy Murray, just can't stop talking.
It was around this time that local broadcasters began hitting the same word repeatedly: "malheureusement."
The "unfortunately" in Murray's world is the Serb, an indefatigable force. On rare days, he can be outplayed. But he is never outcompeted. More important, he never believes he's been beaten. He can always run his way back into matches.
Until Sunday, he'd lost three times in the French Open final. This tournament was his final mental hurdle. He's cleared it and is now running away from his cohort unimpeded.
You've seen these streaks before. Federer went on one a decade ago during which he won eight of 10 slams. The French and Nadal tripped him up, both times in the final.
But it was a then 20-year-old Djokovic who ended the Swiss's historic run of dominance by beating him in the 2008 Australian Open. That was his first major.
Federer would win again, but he was never quite the same player, the one who lived in John McEnroe's and David Foster Wallace's imaginations. Djokovic had helped pull him back to the pack.
Now the Serb is in that same spot. But for Murray, he has no real peers. He's still only 29. There is no obvious successor coming up at him.
Who knows what Djokovic is capable of? A calendar-year slam? Winning more than Federer's record 17? Something more besides?
You know time will eventually wear on Djokovic. Until you've actually seen him lose a step, that's the only thing you'd bet on to take him down.
Cathal Kelly