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Roger Federer has a losing record against his biggest rivals.
Rafael Nadal got him 24 of the 40 times they played and Novak Djokovic won 27 of their 50 clashes. And he has fewer grand slam titles than either of those guys.
As is the case for Serena Williams and her ultimately unsuccessful pursuit of Margaret Court's record 24 major singles titles, Federer's greatness can't be summed up in the cold vacuum of numbers.
So, as he calls time on his professional tennis career still trailing his younger rivals, what is it about Federer that keeps him not just in those discussions about the greatest men's player of all time, but at the head of them for so many people?
The all-conquering champion
Part of it is for sure nostalgia for a generation not old enough to remember Rod Laver, John McEnroe or Bjorn Borg.
Federer was the first of the "Big Three" to emerge. When he beat Pete Sampras in the fourth round of Wimbledon in 2001, it was a neat "passing of the torch" moment.
Even though Sampras won one more major (the 2002 US Open) after that, Federer took over from Sampras as the dominant force in the men's game with his first Wimbledon title the next year, and he unequivocally improved on everything the big-serving American had done.
Four straight Wimbledons and seven overall? Try five and eight. Strong one-handed backhand? Federer had the most majestic you could imagine.
Eventually Nadal came along and ensured Federer would never win the calendar-year Grand Slam by blocking out the French Open for more than 15 years. Then Djokovic joined the party and started performing with Federer-like consistency on all surfaces.
But still, Federer maintains a special place in the debate about who is the greatest of all time.
The Fed Express delivers something for everyone
He was an all-round superstar.
While you got the sense Nadal or Djokovic could have starred in whatever sport they turned their hand to, Federer seemed to have been created in a lab for tennis and tennis only.
He couldn't serve as big as Sampras or a lot of his own contemporaries, almost all of whom are 1.9 metres or taller, but he did it better than most, picking and nailing spots perfectly to set up points to be played on his terms.
He could volley with the deft touch of a doubles player, redirect backhand winners down the line from impossible positions, and his forehand was imperceptible to the human eye when he middled it.
There were effectively no weaknesses in his game.
The traditionalists could enjoy the way he stroked the ball effortlessly a la John McEnroe, and younger fans could marvel at his power and brilliance.
In a sport starting to become dominated by athleticism, Federer remained the ultimate tennis player.
Even when Nadal started beating him regularly, it was largely on clay at first, where his looping forehand and first and second serves could bounce up around Federer's head on the backhand side, making it impossible for him to get over the top of the ball and preventing him from hitting anything but a bunted slice backhand in return.
Enduring challengers
A left-handed physical beast who hit with an amount of top spin never seen before in the game was seemingly the Frankenstein's monster designed to take down Federer.
But again many refused to see Nadal as anything but a clay-court wonder. Federer was still the man. Then came 2008.
First, having lost the 2007 US Open final, Djokovic broke through for his first major title at the 2008 Australian Open. Then Nadal dismantled Federer 6-1, 6-3, 6-0 in the 2008 Roland Garros decider — nothing new there. But Wimbledon changed everything.
The grass courts were holding up better over the course of the tournament and the bounce was slowing down, meaning Nadal could utilise his huge top-spin-based game even at the All England Club.
The Spaniard won a classic decider against Federer, which made it impossible to deny his brilliance, now with a grass-court major title to add to his four French crowns, all by the age of 22.
But, after winning the 2009 Australian Open, Nadal lost at the French Open for the first time in his career, paving the way for Federer to complete his career Grand Slam, tying Sampras for a then-record of 14 men's major singles titles, and number 15 came months later at Wimbledon after top-ranked Nadal withdrew due to knee tendonitis.
Of course, this brute couldn't stay consistently at this level while playing such a physical style. And Djokovic didn't win any majors through 2009 and 2010. Federer would outlast the young bucks. Or so went the narrative.
While we now know that Nadal has endured remarkably well and Djokovic is as decorated as any player, at the time Federer still held dominance.
He won four majors from Roland Garros in 2009 to Wimbledon 2012, but in that time Djokovic had his phenomenal 2011 season, winning three of the four majors amid 10 titles and finishing with a 70-6 win-loss record; and Nadal scooped up five more majors.
They were coming for him, and it seemed they had coasted past him by 2012.
Federer, already on the wrong side of 30 when he won Wimbledon that year, had started to battle persistent back issues that severely restricted him on court.
He didn't make another major decider until Wimbledon 2014, where he was beaten by Djokovic, who also took him down in his next two finals at Wimbledon and the US Open the next year.
Even reaching those finals after it appeared age, injuries, time and his peers had caught up with him years earlier was a remarkable achievement.
Then he returned to the winners' circle with a victory over Nadal at the 2017 Australian Open. Then he won Wimbledon for his first multi-major year since 2009. By the time he beat Marin Čilić for what turned out to be his 20th and final grand slam title, he was four clear of Nadal and seven clear of Djokovic.
We know now that they eclipsed his total, but he did everything he could while he was still playing to keep his nose in front.
Swiss watches always keep perfect time
There was a reason he was so often referred to as the Swiss "maestro" — Federer conducted out on the court.
Nadal was a brute from the back of the court. He gripped the racquet tightly in two hands, often sleeveless arms showing off bulging biceps, as he stood in a wide stance as he prepared to return serve. He charged forward to track balls down and contorted his face as he let out visceral grunts on contact.
Djokovic spent most of his time at the back of the court, sprinting from baseline to baseline, doing full splits to retrieve balls from spots that should mean death for a tennis player.
Both impressive, but not effortless.
Federer was fast around the court, as all modern champions must be, but he glided across the surface.
His footwork, anticipation and control of the game meant he never looked rushed, regularly sidestepping or even backtracking to get around a backhand and rip an inside-out forehand winner.
It was almost impossible to force him off the baseline, and despite being built more like a human man than his rivals, he always had enough strength to hit half volleys back with interest and accuracy.
It could sound boring, but he pulled out so many miraculous shots and also popularised regularly hitting tweeners and no-look winners long before Nick Kyrgios became the face of the trick shots.
And when the super slow-mo cameras showed him hitting the ball, no matter the circumstances, his face was more motionless than Donatella Versace's.
With the others, you could see them working hard to beat you. Not with Federer.
'Federer can make you feel really bad'
It's possible Kyrgios said it best after losing a heartbreaking Wimbledon final to Djokovic earlier this year.
"[Djokovic] doesn't make you feel as bad as Federer does at times. Out of the three guys, Federer can make you feel really bad," Kyrgios said.
"He makes you want to leave the court. He can make things seem really quick.
"Nadal and Djokovic, they allow you to play a little bit from the back, and if you're playing not great then you struggle, but Federer can really take it to you and get you off the court real quick."
And while he made his opponents feel small at times, his on-court conduct was almost always professional.
Outbursts were few and far between, umpires were more likely to be engaged in a conversation than be the subject of a tirade, racquets were rarely at risk of being obliterated, nor balls sent into orbit.
Perhaps the biggest knock on him was for being a bit of a lair when he rocked a tailored jacket with a golden "15" on the back after tearing out Andy Roddick's heart in the 2009 Wimbledon final.
But you can't blame a goat for bleating every now and then.