IT could hardly have been written any better. Tim Henman will play his final game as a professional tennis player next month at Wimbledon, the venue that has come to define him, representing Great Britain, the country that has taken him to its heart.

A Great Britain vs Croatia Davis Cup tie may not sound the most glamorous way to end a 13-year career that has included ten ATP Tour titles, one Masters Series title and semi-final appearances at three of the four Grand Slams.

But for Henman, a player who single-handedly dragged British tennis out of a 20-year malaise after turning professional in 1994, it makes perfect sense.

After all, for the vast majority of his followers, his career has always been defined by what happens on Wimbledon's centre court.

It was there, in 1997, that he beat Dutchman Paul Haarhuis 14-12 in the final set of an epic five setter that would become something of a template for tennis' marathon man.

It was there, four years later, that a combination of the weather and an inspired Goran Ivanisevic robbed him of his best chance of making a maiden appearance in the final of a Grand Slam.

And it was there, earlier this summer, that he rolled back the years one final time to beat Carlos Moya 13-11 in yet another five-set classic.

All emotional moments - all likely to be superseded by his final appearance on the patch of London grass he has come to call home.

"I played some of my best tennis at Wimbledon and that's something I'll always be proud of," said Henman, who announced the details of his retirement at a press conference in New York yesterday. "I'm glad that I'm going to be retiring there.

"I think I probably hoped to be playing at Wimbledon again next year, but when I started practising again on hard courts, the way that I felt made it a little more clear-cut for me.

"Playing in that pain, with the problem in my back, made it an uphill battle. It was one that was getting harder and harder all the time."

'An uphill battle' pretty much describes Henman's career, with the grass-court specialist extracting every ounce of ability from a playing style that should really have been rendered obsolete in the hard-hitting modern game.

Henman evoked a more innocent age when shot-making was more important than strength, yet he still competed at the very highest level for more than a decade alongside the likes of Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi and Roger Federer.

All three will be remembered as all-time greats, and it is to Henman's immense credit that he established himself as a genuine Grand Slam contender during one of tennis' golden ages.

Ultimately, of course, he fell short, with his touch and movement unable to completely compensate for a shortage of brute power.

But his impact on British tennis should not be under-estimated. Without Henman to restore the sport's reputation, there would have been no Greg Rusedski representing Great Britain, and almost certainly no Andy Murray either.

"This is a sad day for British tennis," said LTA chief executive Roger Draper. "But it is also a day when we can celebrate Tim's outstanding tennis career.

"He's been in six Grand Slam semi-finals, been number four in the world and has performed in Britain's Davis Cup team - he's been an outstanding tennis player.

"He's right up there in terms of British sports people who have been at the top of their trade.

"He'll reflect on some matches and will be disappointed but, overall, in the 15-16 year period in which he's played, he's been the most consistent player on the tour. We have to celebrate that success."

Celebrate, but also rue the one that got away. While Henman will be remembered for his tenacity and commitment, the abiding memory of his career will be 2001's heart-breaking Wimbledon semi-final defeat to Ivanisevic.

His inability to close out victory after winning six unanswered games in the third set has seen him unfairly branded a loser, a player who, when it came to the crunch, lacked the killer instinct to succeed.

Instead, his dramatic demise was conclusive proof of sport's inherent unpredictability. Henman's best laid plans disappeared when the rain began to tumble from London's skies, and although there would be further successes along the way, his belief was irrevocably affected by such a harrowing and seemingly pre-destined defeat.

"I'm often asked if I would have done things any differently," said Henman. "If I could change circumstances, then against Goran I would ask it not to rain.

"I don't necessarily have regrets though. Maybe I would have done lots of things differently, but I suppose that's hindsight."

Perhaps, with the benefit of hindsight, those who would decry Henman's achievements might also be persuaded to think again.