TV View: It is, as we know, up there with the greatest sports stories ever told. Perhaps it's even the greatest of them all, writes Mary Hannigan.

To have one child make a unique contribution to a sport is marvellous, but to have two? Quite, quite extraordinary. These siblings? History-makers. And the competition between them is fierce, fiercer still since the younger sibling overtook the older one in terms of status, making the rivalry all the more delectable for the viewer.

They persevere, valiantly, despite all the sniping they have had to endure, and you realise just how immense their journey has been when you recall that they grew up in a hard part of town: the mean streets of Bury south-central. But those roots never held Gary and Phil Neville back. And the good news is - as confirmed by last week's most heartening sporting telly pictures - they're back in pre-season training.

You'd assume, then, that when the Neville brothers tuned in to the women's Wimbledon final on Saturday that they could comfortably relate to the experiences and emotions of the two contestants.

Like the Williams sisters, Gary and Phil, much as it might hurt, regularly expose each other's weaknesses on the field of play, although, granted, in their case, it's never intentional. After all, Gary and Phil, unlike Serena and Venus, play on the same team, and shouldn't be exposing each other's weaknesses at all. But which one of us hasn't underhit a backpass in our time, or failed to pick up our man?

Since their father, Richard, first unleashed them on the tennis world the conspiracy theorists have concluded that the Williams sisters are doing it for themselves, and nobody else. ("But, sure, who else would the sisters be doing it for," some of us have asked, politely.)

"They don't like playing each other, and they hate beating each other," they allege.

Your average conspiracy theorist is, one must conclude, an only child, because if they had a sister they'd know that you'd move heaven and earth to annihilate her, in any contest, if only as revenge for washing your favourite white linen blouse with her red poncho.

"There's unusual stuff going on right now, I don't know what to make of it," hmm-ed John McEnroe during the final. "Hmm," agreed commentator David Mercer and McEnroe's fellow analyst Tracey Austin. This comment was picked up by a gaggle of the Sunday papers as proof positive that something strange happens when Serena meets Venus.

It does too. You get to see two of the greatest, most electrifying and magnificent sportswomen of all time squaring up to each other. Even on an average day - e.g. Saturday - it's exhilarating. And if they find it a touch uncomfortable whipping each other's asses, especially when one of them is injured, it proves something else: they're - whisper it - only human. No wonder they stand out like sore thumbs in the world of professional tennis.

As does Roger Federer, because he's wonderful to watch. Like Boris Becker's hair, he rose to the occasion yesterday, only faltering at the end of his chat with Sue Barker when he had a slight Gwyneth Paltrow-moment.

It was Roger and Serena's fortnight, then, although McEnroe wasn't far behind. In the "gifted" department his telly form the past two weeks was up there with the talent that racquet-wielding left hand of his once displayed, and that, m'Lord, is saying something.

Elsewhere. The Williams sisters of Armagh, Kieran and Patrick McGeeney, were celebrating on Saturday, too, after their county failed to lose to Dublin. It's one of the few failures Armagh have experienced in recent times, so, once again, Joe Kernan's motivational powers will be called upon to revive them.

"A disgrace - you'd have to question whether this fella should ever be allowed wear a Dublin jersey again," said Joe Brolly of Stephen Cluxton's red-card-inducing moment of insanity.

"Dublin bottled it, on and off the pitch," said Bernard Flynn of Dublin's stubborn refusal to even look for an extra gear. Good to hear RTÉ's panellists are toning down their post-match comments in response to those recent "too harsh" allegations.

Commiserations to Dublin, then, who return, once again, to the drawing board, which they've visited more often than Croke Park in recent years. Commiserations, too, to Venus Williams and Mark Philippoussis, but as Marty Morrissey said of Mayo yesterday, after their defeat by Galway, "they lost nothing today - except pride and, of course, the Connacht title".

In other words, the sporting glass is always half-fullish, if even it looks a bit on the emptyish side.