Let’s be honest: It’s been a strange Wimbledon, filled with last-minute absences; even later-minute sudden injuries, retirements, and walkovers; and a host of upsets. Nobody, but nobody, predicted this women’s final, which pits 31st-seeded Czechian doubles specialist Barbora Krejčíkova against the seventh-seeded Jasmine Paolini of Italy. (They play at 9 a.m. ET tomorrow.) Whoever wins, we will see—for the eighth straight year—a new Wimbledon women’s singles champion.
For Paolini, it’s been the summer of her career, if not her life. Before last month, she hadn’t won a single match on grass, and here she is, playing for the Wimbledon title. She also reached the final at the French Open mere weeks ago, and while Paolini lost that match, against Iga Swiatek, quite badly, the experience of playing on the sport’s biggest stage should be a great boon to her here—as should her gutsy, thrilling, come-from-behind semifinal victory over Donna Vekić in a third-set tiebreak. (When a reporter asked her yesterday what she’d say if someone told her a year ago that she’d reach both the French and Wimbledon finals in 2024, Paolini responded: “You are crazy, I would say.” Indeed, she is the first woman to manage that feat since Serena Williams did it in 2016.)
Krejčíkova already has a major singles title under her belt—she won the French in 2021—along with 10 major doubles titles, and was ranked as high as second in the world in recent years before she was beset by a series of arm, elbow, and wrist injuries. If there were any doubts about her match readiness, though, they were answered early on at Wimbledon, with her impressive victories over Danielle Collins, Jelena Ostapenko, and especially fourth-seeded Elena Rybakina, the 2022 Wimbledon champion, in the semifinals.
So who’s going to win? Truly anybody’s guess. Though both players are the same age (28), Krejčíkova has an edge when it comes to high-pressure experience. Both players have a similar game—strong, aggressive groundstrokes—so this could be an intense fistfight from the baselines, but then again, both also embrace net play. Edge to Krejčíkova here: The speed and pace of her forehand and backhand are a bit beyond what the compact Paolini is capable of wielding, and her doubles background will be invaluable at the net.
What does Paolini bring to the table? She’s faster to the ball—which, on Wimbledon grass, is a lot. She’s been on-point with her service return, which will be key. And, perhaps most importantly (if intangibly), Paolini seems to be riding a wave. She’s charismatic, and the crowd loves her. That’s not everything—but it’s a lot.
As for the men: While the bill of Carlos Alcaraz vs. Novak Djokovic on Sunday at 9 a.m. ET is a far more familiar—and expected—one on paper, it’s no less unpredictable. While Alcaraz has looked, at times, far from perfect en route to the final—he needed five sets to get past Frances Tiafoe in the third round, and four to beat Tommy Paul, Ugo Humbert, and Daniil Medvedev in ensuing rounds—his path to the final has also, even in the midst of all that, seemed somehow inevitable, almost trademarked. Think killer speed, highlight-reel angles, and that relentless focus, coupled with a Nadal-like inability to concede, even when the end seems to be nigh.
Djokovic, meanwhile, maybe shouldn’t even be here after his knee surgery a few weeks ago—but he’s enjoyed a relatively easy path to the finals and is coming off a well-fought but (in Novak World) assured straight-sets victory over Lorenzo Musetti to get here. The only wobbles in his Lazarus-like return to greatness at Wimbledon have involved his interactions with the crowd. For a player of his greatness, he’s long had combative relationships with his audiences, and this tournament has been no exception, with the crowd occasionally seeming to root against him—and Djokovic responding by pretending to play his racquet as a violin, only egging them on further.
In the final, though, expect those antics to cease: Handling Alcaraz will be all-hands-on-deck challenge. Obviously, Djokovic brings literally decades of experience as arguably the greatest player ever to the table, while Alcaraz is out of central casting as his heir apparent. (No less than Djokovic himself called Alcaraz “for sure the greatest 21-year-old in the history of this sport” after his semifinal win.) If Djokovic has been tested less so far in the tournament, that works both ways: He’s at once better-rested and, perhaps, not quite as battle-hardened as Alcaraz may be. This final has the potential to be an historic battle royal and, perhaps again, a passing of the torch—Djokovic, of course, has won this trophy seven times, while Alcaraz is the defending champion. Here’s hoping we’re in for one to remember.
