SO imperiously has Spain's Carlos Moya played in this Australian Open, beginning with his dramatic first round victory over the holder, Boris Becker, that it was almost too much to hope that his dynamic form could be maintained against the attritional pragmatism of the number two seed Michael Chang in yesterday's semi final.
Memories of Moya's previous victories brought an instant glittering recall of pulverising forehands blistering down the lines, or spearing the corners, and wonderfully glided backhands that seemed to flutter like butterflies past stranded opponents before dropping perfectly inside the baseline for exquisite winners.
Surely Chang, with his capacity to chase down the improbable and severely punish the wayward, would rock Moya back on his Spanish heels, finally putting an end to his unseeded journey of self discovery?
Marvellously and extraordinarily the answer was a resounding no, he couldn't.
From the moment that Moya broke Chang's first service game, the writing was on the wall for the American.
The facts - Moya, aged 20, is the first Spanish man to reach the Australian Open final since Andres Gimeno in 1969 when Rod Laver took the title. This is only Moya's fifth Grand Slam tournament, and he has never advanced beyond the second round before.
The reality - in the space of 11 days Moya has totally captivated tennis Australia.
After his 7-5, 6-2, 6-4 demolition of Chang, he was asked if he would be watching today's other semi final between Sampras and Thomas Muster.
"Yes," he replied, "I shall be laying in bed with some popcorn and a drink - just like this." Moya placed his hands behind his head and presented an image of total relaxation, while gently expressing the hope that Muster and Sampras would be involved in a gruelling five setter.
How Tim Henman must look and wonder. Just before this tournament started, he had thrashed Moya in straight sets in the final of the Sydney international. Henman, of course, then lost to, Chang here in the third round last week.
There was no question of Chang underestimating Moya yesterday. That is not in his nature. He knew, given the Spaniard's capacity to strike the most blissful passes, that he had to force the pace and not allow him time. Palpably, he failed.
The tournament gained the women's final it so badly wanted tomorrow, after semi final victories for Martina Hingis and Mary Pierce. The obvious contrast in styles should ensure a fascinating contest.
Nine months ago Hingis was all ponytail and coltish promise. So tast has she matured, notably by the time of the US Open when she reached the semi finals, that it is now barely possible to think of her, at least on court, as anything other than a seasoned professional.
Whether she wins or loses, Hingis will be ranked number two in the world, and should she beat Pierce, which is by no means a certainty, she will become the youngest ever Grand Slam champion in the Open era, taking over from Monica Seles.
In her quarter final here against Romania's Ruxandra Dragomir, Hingis suffered a rather bad attack of nerves, but there was no sign of anxiety yesterday.
Her opponent, Mary Joe Fernandez, has a reputation for sticking like a limpet and retrieving lost causes. She had reached two Australian Open finals before in 1990 and 1992, so Hingis had every reason to be circumspect. But the American was outclassed.
Pierce, the Australian champion two years ago, has nothing of the Hingis grace or fluidity. All her movements are statuesquely stiff, right down to the way she towels herself down without flexing her limbs.
Her obvious strength is her power and penetration of shot. However, there is finally some reason to suppose the French woman, born in Montreal, is actually learning how to play the game. She has been choosing when to go for broke (rather than every time) and when to defend.
