TIGER Woods wasn’t the decade’s best. Roger Federer it was.

Ask John Pages.

To John P, Federer had done more, achieved more, than Woods.

In a sense, John P’s right.

Woods has 14 majors, Federer 16.

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If only for that, if only for “outmajoring” Wood, Federer should be it.

And who is John Pages again?

He’s a fellow Sun.Star Cebu sports columnist, whose cerebral columns are eagerly awaited at Sun.Star Cebu three times a week.

John is the nephew of Rey Pages, one of the hot shots of the great and glorious Crispa Redmanizers.

Who wouldn’t remember Crispa?

From the Seventies to the early Eighties, Crispa, behind the fabled “Partnership” of coach Baby Dalupan and team manager Danny Floro, was the undisputed king of Philippine basketball.

Crispa won the PBA’s first Grand Slam in 1976 before doing it again in 1983 to become the first to score two Grand Slams in Asia’s first play-for-pay league.

“He now lives in Bukidnon, where he happily tends his own farm,” said John of his famous Uncle Rey.

Anyway, back to Federer.

The Swiss Ace began the year with a rather easy win over Andy Murray to capture the Australian Open—Federer’s fourth at Melbourne and 16th Grand Slam title overall.

That’s two majors now more than Woods’s own haul.

Against Murray, who was bidding to end a British drought at Grand Slam tournaments that stretches all the way to 1936, Federer had hardly broken a sweat as reflected in the scores: 6-3, 6-4, 7-6 (11).

“I’m over the moon winning this again,” Federer, 28, said. “It’s also very special —the first Grand Slam as a father.”

Federer duplicated Andre Agassi’s feat of winning the Grand Slam, also in the Australian Open, as a father in 2003.

The only difference is, Federer fathered twin daughters.

To me, Federer is the greatest player of his generation. His having played in 18 of the last 19 Grand Slam finals is as unbelievable as GMA running for Congress in the May polls.

And with his recent victory, Federer has wheeled himself for a calendar-year Grand Slam—a distinction achieved last in 1969 by the incomparable Rod Laver.

Ah, but Rod Laver. Isn’t he better than Federer?

I guess, uh-oh (eyes rolling), yes.

Ask John P.