Roger Federer’s Laver Cup sendoff represented everything that made his career one-of-a-kind

WATCH: Grab the tissues: Roger Federer speaks to Jim Courier and addresses the fans after his final professional match at Laver Cup

“I’m happy, I’m not sad,” Roger Federer said after playing his last professional match at Laver Cup on Friday night. “It does feel like a celebration to me.”

Truthfully, it was kind of hard to tell at that moment. Federer’s words were upbeat, but as he said them his eyes were starting to overflow with tears.

He cried for much of his post-match interview with Jim Courier. He cried with his doubles partner, Rafael Nadal. He cried with his wife, his kids, his mom, his dad, his teammates, his coach, his agent, his agent’s wife, and a dozen other people who were there to send him off at London’s O2 Arena.

Could you have imagined it, or wanted it, any other way with Federer? This was basically how it began for him two decades ago. In 2003, on the other side of the same city, he had won the first of his 20 Grand Slam titles at Wimbledon, and promptly dissolved in tears during his on-court interview. Between that show of emotion, which was unusual in tennis at the time, and his masterful display of shot-making that afternoon, which was even more unusual, Federer made permanent converts of tennis fans the world over.

In the 20 years since, he has made millions of new ones with that same combination of graceful play and unguarded, never-jaded emotion.

But Federer really was happy tonight, and he was right to be. He had spent the better part of the last three years trying and mostly failing to get his surgically-repaired knees back into playing condition. He had become a star without a sendoff, a legend with an ambiguous ending. The same was true of Serena Williams, until her electrifying three-night run at the US Open. Now Federer has joined her with an equally fitting final hurrah, all in one evening. During his career, he has made tennis better in a variety of ways; virtually all of them were represented at The O2.

First, he was accompanied this week by his fellow Big 4 members—Nadal, Novak Djokovic, and Andy Murray. Without Federer’s example, would they have achieved everything they achieved?

We’ll never know, but the fact is that no male player before Federer won with the relentless consistency, on all surfaces, from week to week, Slam to Slam, year to year, decade to decade, as he did. Then, suddenly, two other players, Nadal and Djokovic, were doing the same thing. Federer’s level of play, his professionalism, his ambition, his 20-Slam mark, his record number of weeks at No. 1, gave them targets to aim for.

Even more fitting was the presence of Nadal on the same side of the net for his final match. Roger and Rafa changed men’s tennis with their games and their achievements, but they did the same with their friendship, too. That also wasn’t the norm among top rivals before Federer. The norm was McEnroe vs. Connors, Becker vs. Lendl, Sampras vs. Agassi. To say that none of them were buddies would be something of an understatement. But Federer and Nadal were. They understood there was room for both of them to be dominant, and tennis was the ultimate winner. They dueled in some the greatest matches of all time, and then sat down and cried next to each other when it was all over tonight.

Then there was the Laver Cup itself. It’s one of the very few, wholly new, wholly successful events to insert itself into the tennis calendar…ever. And only Federer could have made it happen. Only Federer could have brought the game’s best male players together during what would normally have been their post-U.S. Open downtime, for a completely new event; they did it for him.

Federer could have been merely a great player, the way most great tennis players have been. But he wanted to do more. He was the president of the ATP Player Council for six years; he helped negotiate more prize money at the majors; he started an agency that represents Coco Gauff; and he was the star power behind Laver Cup.

You might say the only thing missing from Federer’s night was a win. It’s true, Federer missed a forehand when they had match point, and he struggled to move at top speed. But there were moments. Sharp volleys, forehand winners, that long, flowing backhand, and one last brilliant forehand flick late in the match-tiebreaker. Federer couldn’t leave without showing us his game one more time.

“I’m happy I made it through,” Federer said. He was relieved just to escape physically unscathed.

The fans in The O2 tried their best to will him across the finish line. Which was, of course, another element of Federer’s career that had never been seen before in tennis: His universal popularity. After a certain point, he never played a match where he wasn’t the crowd favorite. New York, Paris, London, Melbourne: In each place, they thought of him as one of their own. Now, finally, we can say that Federer belongs to history; that should make us as happy, and as sad, as it does him.

Federer brought a new beauty to the court, and new emotional honesty off it. He remade the game, but there will never be anyone like him.