Scarcely had the last ball in either final been struck – or machine-adjudicated as the case may be – when commentators, sporting news sources and just about anybody loitering adjacent to an open microphone were stampeding to declare Serena Williams and Roger Federer as the respective Greatest Of All Time.

That both have claims is beyond reasonable dispute. You'd probably have to be a bit of an idiot to attempt to disparage the career achievements of either of them.

But to have declared conclusively last week that either was the all-time No.1 sounds more like a pundit's ambit claim blurted in a rush of blood immediately post-final – perhaps made by someone who wanted desperately to be part of what used to be called "a happening", by our forefathers in the 1960s.

Others also have claims. In fact, two of them were sitting right there in the stands – Rod Laver and Margaret Court. You could hardly have missed them because they kept putting them up on camera. Also, parts of the Melbourne Park complex are helpfully named for them.

The matter of Margaret Court's 24 grand slam tournament titles (to Serena Williams' 23) was rather inelegantly shunted aside on the telecast on the basis that a number of them were won outside the Open era. Good gravy.

That she competed and repeatedly won against the best competition available under the playing conditions of the time – and continued to win as a professional in "the Open era", including the 1970 singles grand slam – seemed something curiously brushed aside, like sandwich crumbs from a network blazer lapel.

(One presumes this would have also been the greatest sandwich of all time. And maybe lapel.) Rod Laver's couple of grand slams – again, one achieved when the pros had rejoined the amateurs in Open competition – also seemed strangely short-sheeted in that instant coffee, post-Australian Open 2017 figuring of who ranked as all-time best.

And that all presumes the only criteria that count are majors and grand slams, which is not necessarily the case. Dazzling technique, sustained dominance, and quality of opposition also have their place, and existed prior to the era of Federer, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic.

It seems awfully premature and/or peremptory to throw out with the bathwater the likes of Pete Sampras, Ivan Lendl, Bjorn Borg, John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors, Ken Rosewall or Lew Hoad – just to crudely grasp at a few names by way of example.

Another name that lurches to mind in terms of durability, domination and sustained excellence is Martina Navratilova. She wasn't exactly chopped liver, when you think about it.

Steffi Graf went OK, too.

The phenomenon of phenomenology is hardly restricted to tennis. Nowadays, new "all-time greatests" are routinely trumpeted in a plethora of sports about as often as someone blows a nose.

The nose-blowing may have about as much significance in the long run.