It is that time of the year again. With the French Open upon us, all eyes would be watching Roger Federer's progress in the one Grand Slam he has not won. The build-up saw the usual keen contest in the Masters' Series final in which Rafael Nadal won 7-5, 6-7, 6-3 in two hours and 15 minutes.

Federer fought with passion till the end and later suggested he might be in good enough shape to dream again of winning the French. If he does — win the French, not dream — there will be fewer arguments against acknowledging him as the best male tennis player ever. However, the debate may only get muffled for a while, to raise its ticklish head again.

To some, Bjorn Borg would always be the best. In the 1970s, he won six French (played on clay) and five Wimbledon (played on grass) trophies. Borg's feat is especially astounding since he had to contend with some truly formidable rivals.

To others, Sampras would remain the best, as he demolished anything that came in his way. He leads the head-to-head tally with Andre Agassi, his closest rival, by a comfortable margin.

The old-timers would vote for Rod Laver, who won two calendar Grand Slams (all four majors in the same year) seven years apart, first as an amateur and then as a professional.

The one who made me stay up nights to watch — and "manage" the keys to the TV room in a boarding school that frowned upon such indulgence — was Boris Becker (Gabriella Sabatini did, too, but those reasons were different).

His record pales against the other contenders for the "best ever" position. But Boris (in my head, we were on first-name terms) played not with his limbs but with his heart. I read many-many years ago a book (or was it an article?) on him that said that the racquet was an extension of his arm. It sounded so apt it's what I think of when Boris' name comes up.

At that time, Ivan Lendl had started this fitness fanaticism in men's tennis (Navratilova had already proved its usefulness). Even though McEnroe thought his little finger had about as much talent as all of Lendl, the Czech raised tennis to a level where talent — and McEnroe — could not beat him.

Boris then was the hope of those who wanted more out of the game than just points. He appeared to dog Lendl all over the circuit and eventually dethroned him as the world number one. He was one half of a pulsating rivalry with Stefan Edberg, who I think would not have attained those heights without Boris pushing him.