Lesson: Henman Can Wait

Just to get this straight, the sun did not set on the British Empire on Monday. Mark Philippoussis turned out the lights.

With the brightness fading from the skies above Centre Court, Philippoussis took out Great Britain’s last hope, Tim Henman.

Philippoussis, the Australian with the big serve, fought through the partisan crowd and fought through the fatigue of his second consecutive five-set match to prevail, 6-1, 5-7, 6-7 (9), 6-3, 6-4, and advance to the Wimbledon quarterfinals.

It’s so cruel, Brittania.

Henman was the lone Brit remaining in the tournament, meaning yet another year has passed since Wimbledon last had a home-grown champion.

The poor British. They haven’t been able to salute one of their own men since Fred Perry won The Championships at the All England Club in 1936.

And it’s bad enough that the British have lost their way in soccer too, but now they have to watch archrival France--France!--achieve world supremacy. The French won soccer’s European Championship on Sunday night, as if to rub it in.

The sad state of the nation in these two treasured sports has led to some deep soul-searching. The British are so hard up for heroes they’ve turned to the creators of the stop-motion animation film “Chicken Run.”

“You’ve given the whole country a reason to smile again,” movie reviewer Jane Simon wrote in the Sunday People newspaper.

Well, the Hen-man couldn’t pick up where the clay chickens left off.

Even with the fans waving Union Jacks, chanting his name and urging him on every point, Henman came up short.

It can’t be easy to have the hopes of the entire nation resting on your shoulders.

Henman said he welcomes everything that comes with being Britain’s best player during the country’s showcase event.

“There’s always been incredible support for me, and today was no different,” he said. “I’ve said it time and time again: I thrive in those conditions.”

But it also gets to him. After the loss he smashed his racket against his foot.

Henman said he was “extremely frustrated,” and that’s what led to what one questioner described as “the demise of the racket.”

If it’s any consolation, Henman didn’t choke.

Philippoussis’ play on Monday had people talking about him as a serious contender to win it all.

He needed only 14 minutes to take a 5-0 lead in the first set. After Henman recovered to take the second set and win a stirring tiebreaker in the third, Philippoussis settled down and started hauling out aces.

He had eight in the fourth set and four in his final service game, giving him 34 aces for the match.

“He’s got a game that can cause a lot of people trouble,” Henman said.

“I certainly haven’t seen him play that well, to begin with. Then I thought the way I was able to stick in and turn the second and third set around, you know, was about as good as I could sort of fight. But when he’s serving that well, you just feel like one opportunity goes his way and you’re up against it.”

Philippoussis’ powerful serve is like a giant escape hatch for when he’s tired or weak. No need to move when he can uncork an ace.

And he had a legitimate excuse to be weary after surviving a five-hour match against Sjeng Schalken on Saturday.

Even after three hours of tennis Monday, he still reached speeds of 134 and 132 mph on two of his close-out aces.

“I didn’t want to hit a volley,” Philippoussis said.

Pete Sampras is another guy who can break off a huge serve when his body appears to betray him. He found himself defending that quality Monday, when he decided to take on what he thinks are perceptions that he exaggerates ailments to draw sympathy and/or sucker opponents.

Actually, he was the person who brought the issue to light, reading into the lackluster way Jonas Bjorkman shook his hand after Sampras beat him.

From that, he got the impression Bjorkman and others don’t believe his injury status.

“You can just tell,” Sampras said.

At first it comes off as some Michael Jordan-style manufactured motivational tactic.

But Patrick Rafter all but legitimized Pete’s paranoia, saying, “There’s been comments passed in the locker room about it.”

So now it’s the boys’ turn to be catty, while the women’s side of the draw went off almost without a hitch Monday (save for a male streaker who raced around the court during a doubles match featuring Anna Kournikova).

Pity, no Brits in the women’s quarterfinals, either.

So all that’s left for the locals to root for is a German man, Alexander Popp, whose mother was born in Britain.

Even Popp recognizes the newfound fascination with his ancestry comes from a combination of the lack of other worthy candidates and his surprising success in this tournament.

“Probably if I would have lost in the first round here, I think nobody would have asked me about it,” he said.

Of course, we would never do such a thing in America. That would be like someone from Arkansas trying to pass as a New Yorker in a bid for the U.S. Senate.

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J.A. Adande can be reached at his e-mail address: j.a.adande@latimes.com