For a time Andy Murray tried to deny the reality of it all, but finally the admission came that the long goodbye from tennis has begun.
Speaking after his latest defeat in Dubai this week, he confessed he didn't see himself playing much past the summer. Will Wimbledon, where he is a two-time winner, mark the end? Or will it be the Olympics, again where he has twice won gold? At 67th in the world and the British No 4, qualification for the latter is far from guaranteed.
Whenever it comes, we should enjoy him while we can. At 36, he's a sportsman who could lay claim to being Britain's greatest. He is certainly immersed in that conversation. That he is still able to match some of the best players in the world while doing so with a metal hip is nothing short of awe-inspiring. But to watch him toil on court in recent months has been painful, seeing the inner struggling playing out.
For a time, it looked like he might be the nearly man on the biggest stage, beaten as he was in four grand slam finals before finally breaking that duck at the 2012 US Open having won Olympic gold at Wimbledon just a month previously. It opened the floodgates to even greater glories, becoming the first British male to win the Wimbledon singles title since Fred Perry 77 years earlier.
It was my first year covering Wimbledon. Such was the manner in which he won, he made it feel like the norm rather than a historic anomaly.
More titles followed at Wimbledon and the Olympics, as well as the Davis Cup as he climbed his way to world No1 in 2016. But it marked the beginning of the end, his hip beginning to give up on him the following season.
That haul of wins — he has 46 career titles in all — is all the more impressive considering they were achieved alongside the greatest trio of tennis players the men's game has ever seen.
He is pretty dismissive on what the numbers might have been without Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic, arguing the sport's big three lifted his standard of tennis to even loftier sights. For a time, he turned that big three into a four.
He could lay claim to being Britain's greatest, he’s certainly immersed in that conversation
Since surgery, there have been further glories and great drama late into the night at the likes of Wimbledon. Having assumed his career was over, when he did return, the question was always how long for. His answer was simple: as long as he was enjoying it.
From the latter part of last season, it became clear the pleasure was beginning to be outweighed by the pain. From October, he went on the worst run of his career, losing five opening-round matches back to back.
Wins came at his most recent tournaments in Qatar and latterly Dubai, but the renaissance was shortlived, losing as he did in the second round of both.
His schedule isn't finalised for this farewell of sorts, but he expects to return to the French Open in May and have a full run on the grass, including Wimbledon. The idea there might be some sort of fairytale finish seems fanciful, but who knows, so often has he defied everyone's expectations. His place in the sport's history books is secure whenever he calls time.
Almost universally liked on the ATP Tour by his peers, he has been generous in helping the younger talent, particularly his fellow Brits. But he has also fought the corner for the more maligned players like former Wimbledon finalist Nick Kyrgios. Plus, he has always seemed to set the right tone whatever the debate, pushing the women's game as much as the men's and being groundbreaking in using a female coach, Amelie Mauresmo, for a stint in his career.
From the perspective of covering the game, he has been a delight. He has taken umbrage with the odd question but he has always been thoughtful in his answers.
I remember interviewing him prior to Wimbledon the year he won the championships. Making small talk, I told him how I was struggling to get my son to his tennis class. I interviewed him the morning after his historic win. Afterwards, unprompted he picked up my notepad and wrote: "Freddie, go to tennis class." He still goes.
