They were born over 11,000km away from each other on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean in the summer of 1987. We should have known something was up. Eleven days after Novak Djokovic arrived in Belgrade, Serbia, and 22 days before Lionel Messi uttered his first cry in Rosario, Argentina, a film was released whose title fits them perfectly.

It was called The Untouchables.

That year the first World Solar Challenge car race was held. Now, 39 years later, as an insistent Messi dissolves into exhausted tears against Egypt at the World Cup, and a wincing Djokovic dances after a record five-hour, 15-minute Wimbledon quarter-final, we’re uncertain about what their precise energy source is. An interstellar fuel?

Late into the fifth set tie-breaker in London, Djokovic and Felix Auger-Aliassime construct a 22-shot rally, not brilliant just unyielding, like two lions tugging at a kill, and when it ends with a Canadian error, sport produces one of its majestic split-second pictures.

Djokovic leaning on his racket as if it’s a walking stick.

Across the court, 14 years younger and beaten, so is Auger-Aliassime.

As a boy Messi was given human growth hormone shots while Djokovic’s city was being bombed. Undersized and frightened kids who for two decades have wonderfully held the world in their thrall. One was eight times year-end No. 1, the other won eight Ballons d’Or. With hand and foot they tamed the planet. Even now, resembling some bearded holy men on an endless pilgrimage, they remain irresistible, making us journey with them through the night of July 7 into the next morning. Always they stretch the idea of time.

It is a night of levels, petrol, tension, fatigue, gasps, relief, bewilderment, beauty, cussedness, luck. Not just filling our memory, but reaching into theirs to tug out skills gained from ancient encounters. Experience is their ally, shield and reassurance. Djokovic converts only two of 13 break points all night yet he won’t panic.  

They’re senior archaeologists now and what they’re sifting...