At the beginning of the week, Spain's two most legendary sporting institutions lined up side by side, ready to demolish again. In Brazil, where the 2014 World Cup has fired into being, the 23-man squad of defending champions Spain arrived to carry on their golden generation. Meanwhile in Germany, Rafael Nadal swooped in from his French Open victory. Little was expected after such a gruelling stretch, but even in his weakened state he would surely lay waste to a few lowly-ranked players. The great champions came and saw, but by the end of the week only one Spanish athlete stood with any kind of self-respect intact. Who was it? Enter Feliciano Lopez.

Perhaps he'll see differently in a few days, but it will be little comfort for him right now. At the end of the Queen’s Club final against Grigor Dimitrov, a 6-7 7-6 7-6 match that swooped somewhere between endless serving and a genuine thrill of a contest, Lopez bowed his head under a towel as he contemplated the three times he lost his head. Up match point with a flimsy second serve skipping over the net like a rabbit in a field of daisies, his arm turned into lead as his sorry attempt at a forehand return crashed into the bottom of the net. When he led by a break in the deciding set with two holds to go, Lopez double-faulted the lead away. Finally, as he scooped the remainder of his courage and darted to a final-set lead, the net became his worst enemy as three netted groundstrokes in a row secured the defeat.

Lopez, still weighed down by his country's tennis identity, may claim to favor the clay. But it's on the grass where he truly comes alive. There is beauty to be found on it, even when points span no more than one shot as serve rules. His brooding stroll around the court and the service motion that appears to take an hour to wind up contrast with the screaming uncoiling of the racquet halfway through as his arm powers into action. His net play is a joy too, neither a swing on his punch volley or a full-blooded swing volley in sight:  seamless, classic, and assured. But none of that can take away from the uneasy feeling that, after a blinding week it should have been him holding the title, and he knows it.

The story of the day, though, was on the other side of the net. Dimitrov was not at his best, not even close, and his typically poor returning only notched up the difficulty level. However, there was something much more encouraging on show than all the trick shots in the world. After the lucky escape from match point, he eventually slammed down a couple of serves and exposed Lopez's non-existent backhand. A pump of his fist followed by numerous screams into his closed hand showed how much he wanted it, and what he wanted he eventually got.

Meanwhile, as the hysterical ball girls were back fawning and whimpering and covering their eyes, Maria Sharapova looked on from the crowd. One of the most interesting revelations has been a shift in the power couple of the year's public personas, ever since a series of interviews were released involving Dimitrov tackling the subject of Sharapova after being allergic to it.

“She's just been unbelievable, with me throughout all the year so far,” he said after the final. “And just supporting me.  You know, I think the feeling is pretty mutual.  I hope that's not going to be the last tournament that she's at.”

Paparazzi have followed their every moves this week. For the first time, there are no rolled eyes when the Russian is mentioned in his press conferences, and he answered every question happily. There are many possible reasons for this all and even conspiracies, too. But perhaps, with his career thriving and his personal life as secure as it has ever been, happy is really all Dimitrov  is.