Iga Swiatek’s celebration evokes memories of Wimbledon farce

I wasn’t born a cynic, let alone a skeptic. Believing what I was told — especially as delivered through our black-and-white, wait-to-warm-up Zenith — I was fully sold on Mr. Green Jeans’ overalls being green, like the Red Sox’s new uniforms. 

Covering sports has made me cynical. I even eye the celebrations of Wimbledon victors with a conditioned suspicion. 

Last Saturday, after Iga Swiatek crushed Amanda Anisimova 6-0, 6-0 in 57 minutes to win her sixth major and first Wimbledon, Swiatek’s response after the last point seemed, well, excessive — as if she were putting on a show for photographers, sponsors and all gathered media. 

It seemed, as they say over there, that the pudding was overly egged, as if the match’s foregone conclusion ended an epic, hard-fought marathon. She threw herself on the ground, face up, fists clenched in dramatic flamboyance — as if she didn’t know this match was something of a walkover farce.