By Frank Malley, PA Chief Sports Writer

If the sight of Lleyton Hewitt caressing Wimbledon's famous gold trophy was not too much to bear for the likes of Tim Henman and Greg Rusedski then his question in victory must have been even more disturbing.

"I don't know how far you have to go back to find two baseline players playing at the Wimbledon final?" asked Hewitt. "It was a unique final."

So it was, primarily because of the amazing statistic that not one serve-and-volley point was played.

In a tournament which, like football's World Cup, was long on drama yet mightily short of genuine quality, it only proved that Wimbledon is no longer the preserve of the serve and volleyers.

It is no longer a haven for men who can boom down serves at more than 130mph, garnering easy points without expending vast reserves of energy.

It is no longer tailor-made for fast hands at the net and games which breeze by in the blink of an eye.

Rather, Wimbledon of the 2000 vintage is a place which holds an attraction for all walks of the tennis tour.

And that is bad news for Henman and Rusedski.

The one racing certainty to come out of a tournament where the courts and balls were slowed down in a bid to make matches more interesting is that next year the opposition will be even stiffer.

Players like three-times French Open winner Gustavo Kuerten, plus Spaniards Albert Costa and Alex Corretja, men renowned for their view that 'grass is for cows', will fancy their chances on courts which play not dissimilar to the red clay of Roland Garros.

It will certainly be difficult for Henman to reconcile his decade of trying to get to a Wimbledon final and failing with Argentina's 20-year-old David Nalbandian reaching the final having never before played a senior grass court tournament.

There has never before been such depth of talent in the men's game. All of which means that next year is perhaps the last where Henman and Rusedski could have a realistic chance of going all the way.

For all the encouraging signs made by Rusedski this tournament, however, he will be pushing 30 come next July, his limbs are fragile and his temperament prone to faltering under the severest pressure.

True, his game looked supreme in his demolition of America's Andy Roddick when his powerful serve was well-tuned and his groundstrokes perfectly grooved.

But when drawn into a match of longer rallies and fluctuating emotion against Belgium's Xavier Malisse the old Rusedski frailties eventually let him down.

It is difficult to see Rusedski putting together a series of seven superlative performances necessary to win a Grand Slam.

With Henman, however, there is still hope, if only because his hunger to win the tournament is as keen as ever and because he possesses the work ethic to effect the improvements he must make to take that extra step after failing in four semi-finals.

Henman, it has to be said, has been unfortunate. He has faced the booming serves of Pete Sampras twice and Goran Ivanisevic once in semis when Wimbledon favoured power players. Then as soon as they slow things down he is faced with Hewitt and conditions which favour the baseliner.

Not that he hid behind such irony. "I wasn't good enough, I must improve," said Henman after his straight-sets defeat at the hands of Hewitt.

Just how he improves is the conundrum he now faces with coach Larry Stefanki.

His work with Stefanki over the past year has seen him rise to his best-ever world ranking of four.

Much of that has been achieved by cutting out the lapses of concentration and the debilitating double faults which once characterised his work.

The emphasis has been put on spin and finesse rather than sheer power, percentage tennis instead of all-out aggression.

The problem is that when he reaches the denouement of the biggest championships, when he comes up against the world's most celebrated players it is not enough.

Rather like the athlete who does not possess a sprint finish, Henman continually finds himself caught out by champions such as Hewitt and Marat Safin and Andre Agassi who raise their game when competition is at its fiercest.

Tough-talking Aussie Pat Cash is one who believes Henman has to rethink the pragmatic approach to his service.

"Tim has to crank up the power, most notably on his serve," says Cash.

"He has worked very hard on all aspects of his game and his fitness and there is nothing wrong with his volley, but his forehand remains a little shaky.

"His serve also has to increase by 10-15 per cent in power if he is to go that step or two further than he has been at Wimbledon and that will require changing his technique. Without making this change he will not succeed."

Cash successfully altered his own serve at the age of 31 so Henman, who will be 28 in September, still has time on his side.

The folks on Henman Hill with their hopelessly inflated expectations and the viewers who tuned in their millions to a distinctly average tournament no doubt will be there cheering on Henman again next year.

It might be his last chance. He might just do it. But only if he heeds the sentiment of a nation: More power to his elbow.