Athletes don't really want to hear about a "window of opportunity."

No matter their reality, no matter how much better their competition, no matter the toll time has taken, they think they can win until someone pries the ball, glove, bat, club, racket or whatever from their cold, dead fingers (in homage to the late Charlton Heston).

James Blake's "window" is creeping downward. He's still the second-ranked American in the world, but that calling card doesn't scare anyone on the other side of the net any more. This year, he's gone 18-11, reaching only one final (this week's grass-court AEGON Championship in London, where he lost in straight sets to rising Brit Andy Murray, the world's No. 3) and losing four times in the first round, including to a qualifier at the French.

He's dropped to 17th in the world, and this year he'll turn 30. In 2006, he reached a career-high No. 4. (After No. 6 Andy Roddick and Blake, there are only two other Americans in the Top 50: 27-year-old Mardy Fish, ranked 26th; and 21-year-old Sam Querrey, 46th.)

And yet, as expected, Blake heads toward Wimbledon with a hefty dose of confidence in his bag.  "I feel great about my chances," he said after losing to Murray.

You expect that from a competitive athlete, and I respect it.

I just don't happen to agree with it.

Grass is a great surface for Blake, a strong baseliner with power and solid skills at the net. But he's never reached a Grand Slam final, and there's no reason to think he will now.

He's reached the quarters three times but has never been able to break through, not through lack of effort but, well, each time the other guy's just been better. It happens.

Blake has been (and remains) a great representative for the U.S. He's a Davis Cup regular. Since making his debut in 2001, he's played every year except 2004 (when he broke his neck during a fall on clay and hit the net post). He's won 21 Davis Cup matches, losing only 10.

He's a guy crowds root for, even when they know his chances aren't "great."

They root for him, in part because he's a bit of an anomaly - a top athlete who does not land in the Hollywood tabloids nor strut the red carpet. He simply plays, and when he found his form in 2006 - two years after the injury that almost cost him his career - he may have been the most popular male on tour not named Federer or Nadal. 

But as Federer cements his legacy as the game's best ever, and Nadal frets over how gimpy knees might impact his own legend, Blake slides along, playing dutifully and ably as his window closes. 

AP photo