When Boris Becker finally marched into the sunset of his career at the Wimbledon tournament in 1999, one thing seemed clear to me: I would never write as much about any other tennis player or athlete, texts sometimes every day. Sometimes two or three times a day. Day after day for weeks.

But then Roger Federer came and there were many more texts, hundreds of thousands of words, many millions of characters, many encounters, many interviews. I knew him from my junior days, I watched him for Swiss newspapers and magazines. A few spectators were usually only there at the end of the last century, on side seats of the Grand Slam tournaments. Those were years that I would later describe as Federer's boorish years. Federer occasionally behaved like the Australian Nick Kyrgios does today, he chopped up his rackets, argued with referees, was dissatisfied with himself and the world. Nobody, including himself and his family, believed in the big world career at the time. "I despair of myself," Federer told me in September 1998. He had just lost the junior final of the US Open to David Nalbandian.

Federer has moved the tennis world like no other

24 years later, at the time of his announced departure, he has now moved and changed the tennis world like no other. He broke records, season after season. He became king of Wimbledon, Center Court was his green paradise with eight triumphs. He has long been one of the best-known people on the planet, his logo RF stands for itself as a brand. The history books and chronicles are full of his name.

But what is remembered are the big little things. Federer's character, his humanity, his modesty. His motto in life: It's nice to be important. But more importantly, be nice. And to everyone and everywhere.

Always a man to touch

When I think of Federer, I always remember a scene from the year of his first Wimbledon victory, 2003. Federer was suddenly a title candidate, a big thing in London, his picture appeared in the newspapers every day. One evening during the second week of the tournament, I was walking down the main street of Wimbledon Village with a friend and we saw a large queue outside a newly opened Italian restaurant. And we saw Roger Federer and his Swedish coach Peter Lundgren waiting in line. Suddenly the restaurant owner came out, with big gestures he urged Federer and Lundgren to please go past the other people waiting into the restaurant. Federer, however, immediately waved it off casually and with great self-evidence. Special treatment: No thanks!

And then this too: Federer and the fans. Long after he had become a world star, a global hero and superman, he was still the man to touch. No one signed autographs so persistently, posed for selfies with their followers with an eternal smile. When he traveled to the tennis tournament in Halle, one of his favorite places on the circuit, there was an absolute state of emergency after each of his matches. Federer emerged from the press conference, and then he signed autographs until his fingers glowed. Sometimes it lasted longer than a set on Center Court turf. “I used to queue for autographs myself as a kid. I know what it means to people," Federer told me, "I have fun making the kids and everyone else happy with it. It's also just a moment of respect.”

There was rarely if ever a bad mood

Federer liked to say that in the last two and a half decades there have only been three or four days when he went to a tennis court without joy. He retained his childish joy in the game to the end, you could see it in training when after millions and millions of shots he still enjoyed the one successful shot. In general: he was rarely in a bad mood – maybe two or three bad-tempered press conferences. Most of those who have dealt with him over the years have not known a happier person than him.

Wait, there was a black hour after all. It's been twenty years since Federer lost without a hitch to Rainer Schüttler at the tournament in Dubai. In 2002 I was the only German-speaking journalist on site - and witnessed how tournament director Jeff Chapman wanted to cancel his prize money and entry fee because he didn't put in enough effort. I was sitting in the dressing room with Federer, he had tears in his eyes, it was clear that his good name was at stake. "I won't let that sit on me, I also have my pride," said Federer.

Eventually, the Federer camp and Chapman agreed to pay out all the money on decent performance after the 2003 tournament. And then the winner was: Roger Federer. Another 16 years later, Federer had long been a part-time resident in the emirate, owner of a multi-million dollar apartment at Dubai Marina, he won his 100th title in the modern Aviation Club. When we met in the press room after the final, Federer smiled: "Who would have thought...?"

Parents' values

I saw most of his 20 Grand Slam titles. I could never stop being amazed because I knew how much the highly talented Federer had fought for his career in his early years. How much he had to change, how he went from being a hot-blooded, nervous talent to a brilliant, extremely constant artist whose success was based on merciless self-discipline. Especially at the end of his career, the great master Federer was drawn to the smaller places where he grew up, where he wanted to feel close to his fans. Or to places he didn't know yet, on the edge of the tennis universe. There were always small farewells before the now big farewell, the final point.

Federer had less and less time for his early companions from his greenhorn years in the tour circuit. But he never forgot to shake hands with each of them on occasion and to call them by their names. He knew what he triggered in these people - an emotional, moving memory. A moment of happiness. It was never calculated, but pure politeness, decency. Values that his parents instilled in him. And which he then, the older and more mature he became, lived more and more intensely.

The era with Federer, Nadal, Djokovic - actually unimaginable

Is it a daring comparison? When contemporary witnesses recently spoke about their experiences with the late Queen, they always talked about how much the monarch gave her subjects a calming feeling when they met, taking away their embarrassment and nervousness. It was similar with Federer, albeit on a different stage and living environment. "I'm not more important than anyone because I'm a good tennis player," Federer told me when I asked him about it, "I'm just acting normal. I don't have to pretend. That's just how I am." Federer, the fellow human being.

The Federer years will soon be history. The years of the golden era, the Fabulous Three along with Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic coming soon too. It was a time you could never have imagined yourself. Just like Federer himself: "Sometimes, in the last few years, I really asked myself: Was it all a dream? Or was it real?”