On Sunday, rain postponed the semifinals yet another day, but when the two finally met last night, Newcombe won convincingly in three sets, 6-3, 6-4, 6-4.

Within minutes after the match, the two Australians were back in the club-house locker room, and after an exchange of friendly compliments, Newcombe grinned. The writers needed copy.

"Just like Wimbledon, Newk?", one volunteered. Newcombe had beaten Stolle there in four sets two weeks ago.

"Ah...." Newcombe shrugged. "Worth moor muhny, tho'," Stolle added.

"Will you still use an aluminum racquet, Fred?", another said.

Stolle waved his hand and tasted his beer. "Shi, go' teh use soomthin'."

Newcombe glanced over at Stolle. "You didn'a do bahd, Fred. Woon toyme, when you 'it the byseloine, I 'ad to be bludy Supermahn to return i'."

Newcombe feels that he might need to be Superman when he meets top-seeded Rod Laver in the finals tonight. Laver, who has won the tournament four of the past five years, wore down Rosewall relentlessly last night, 6-3, 5-7, 6-2, 6-3, Newcombe will have his hands full.

"Oy've beaten 'im before," Newcombe mused. "Bu' oy can'ht 'it wi' im froom the byseloine. oy naid..." Newcombe here waved his hand aimlessly, as if trying to grasp an unattainable secret to break Leaver's power. And immediately after the singles match, he'll have to pair with Roche to face Laver and Pancho Gonzalez in the doubles final.

"I'hts oll raight," Stolle consoled. "Thy've been colin' me "Stole" on the rydio oll wyke." Fred's name is pronounced Stawlleee.

"Wha' sahn you expect," Newcombe phiosophied. "Ayven in Boston thy can'ht spayk bludy English."

Stolle slipped his beer and shook his head. "Shi'," he said.