If you were the Australian Open promoter posting an ad aimed at filling positions you describe as "champion" and "runner-up," you would probably specify: Only Grand Slam champions need apply.

After all, for the past eight years, every Australian Open men's finalist was a Grand Slam champion or, in the case of Stan Wawrinka, destined to be one by the end of the day. The only exceptions on the WTA side are Dinara Safina and Dominika Cibulkova, and the Slovakian dynamo still has a chance to punch through. The 2014 finalist is seeded No. 6 this week in Melbourne.

It's an interesting, if fine, distinction that sets the tournament apart and makes the first major of the year the champion's championship, the gold-standard Slam. It's amazing, because this is also the tournament that almost vanished into irrelevance, a casualty of the dramatic shift to Open pro tennis. Thankfully, at the 11th hour, the tournament organizers figured out where the game was heading. Once engaged, they also developed a dynamic, continuing commitment to growth. They also got lucky as the game evolved and produced (with their help) a new kind of player ideally suited to their tournament.

The payoff? Here's what Roger Federer had to say during last year's tournament: "I would think the Australian Open is the one where players come in maybe most inspired," said the 35-year-old. "It's also been my most consistent Slam maybe until last year. I always played very well here. I don't know if it's the conditions or the court speed. It's a good place for me to start the year."

Yet in the mid-1970s and early '80s, legendary Bjorn Borg bothered to play the Australian Open on only one occasion. Jimmy Connors showed up in Melbourne only twice. John McEnroe made five appearances but only two while in his prime. Pam Shriver, a Hall of Fame player and ESPN.com commentator, once played four grass-court tournaments in Australia, then returned home to Baltimore -- just as the Australian Open was beginning.

"That's how little people thought of it," Shriver recently told ESPN.com. "Both sides of the draw were terrible."

How terrible? Australian Open winners in that era included good-but-not-great players like Brian Teacher, Roscoe Tanner, Johan Kriek and the granddaddy of all one-Slam wonders, Mark Edmondson (1976). He was ranked No. 212 when he won the title.

The calendar was partly to blame. The Aussies were happy to stage their native championships over the Christmas and New Year holiday, but few foreign players wanted to make the long trip Down Under at that time of year, no matter how warm and sunny. As for the site, the Kooyong Lawn Tennis Club was a poor man's Wimbledon, with a noticeably tilted center court that forced you to run uphill -- or down -- when you rushed the net. The Australian Open was the backwater Slam; the skinflints at Kooyong didn't even pay decent under-the-table appearance fees.

The tournament languished. But Tennis Australia took notice in 1978 when its American counterpart, the USTA, moved the US Open from a private grass-court tennis club in Forest Hills, Queens, into a new, spacious facility built in a public park. Wheels were set in motion, and in 1988, the Australian Open was relocated to a new National Tennis Center in Melbourne Park. Just as important, the tournament was moved three weeks forward into the new year. Almost overnight, the event was transformed from far-flung afterthought into the much-anticipated first major of the year.

Still there were issues. The tournament had a way of producing oddball finals -- or finalists -- on the men's side. Petr Korda (later unmasked as a PED cheat) won it, as did Thomas Johansson. Finalists included Thomas Enqvist, Arnaud Clement and Rainer Schuettler.

Mark Edmondson's 1976 title win -- which came out of the blue for the Aussie who was ranked 212th at the time -- epitomized the Australian Open's weaknesses before the mid-'80s. Fairfax Media/Getty Images

The unpredictable results were usually attributed to the workings of offseason rust and new-season inspiration. But another factor was in play -- the novel, rubber-based Rebound Ace surface. ESPN commentator Darren Cahill, himself an Aussie and former coach of Andre Agassi, told ESPN.com: "Rebound Ace wasn't the perfect choice for a hard court, but the move to a rubberized [hard-court] surface did give the event a point of difference to the other Slams. With that, they've been able to build on making the tournament a forerunner in all things creative with forward thinking. I could list 30 innovative fan and player experiences that you will now find in all four majors -- and most of those things were introduced at the Australian Open."

Unfortunately, Rebound Ace became infernally hot and it tended to begin melting and become sticky under the blazing Australian sun. "Great players tend to be great movers," Shriver said, "and great movers, even Lleyton Hewitt, an Aussie, never liked Rebound Ace."

The surface also led to numerous foot, ankle and leg injuries, so it was finally replaced in 2007 by a firmer hard court called Plexicushion. That change, combined with the coming of age of the Big Four, soon weeded out the surprise finalists. As it turned out, the Plexicushion surface also is ideally suited to a certain kind of game -- the kind that came to its ultimate expression in the hands of Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray.

"Foot speed, defense, the ability to transition from defense to offense, the medium-to-long rally. The present court is ideal for that," Shriver said. "The courts are not particularly fast; they feel almost indoor-ish."

Small wonder that, after winning his sixth singles title in Rod Laver Arena last January, Djokovic knelt and kissed the court. "I've had a love affair with Rod Laver Arena for many years," he explained. "And I hope it can last a long time."

Serena Williams might say the same, despite her unexpected loss to Angelique Kerber in last year's final. Like Djokovic, Williams has earned six singles titles in the RLA. She produced some of her most memorable -- and significant -- efforts there.

Among those historic feats: In 2007 she was a prohibitive long shot, seemingly out of shape, and emerging from a dark period in her personal life. But she became the first unseeded player to win since Chris O'Neil in the who-even-cares year of 1978. In 2005, Williams was 1-2 against emerging rival Maria Sharapova. In their semifinal clash, Williams saved three match points and went on to win 8-6 in the third. She has added 15 consecutive wins over Sharapova since that one. Williams' own memory of the match is sketchy. "I just remember hitting an inside-out forehand when I was down match point," she said in Australia last year. "I remember hitting it as hard as I could."

Well, that works.

And it works more reliably in some circumstances than others. That points to the last, subtly shaped and colored piece in this puzzle -- the ambient conditions in the RLA and at the tournament in general. The three covered stadia ensure that, at least for the marquee players, match conditions are close to ideal, and that the tournament will stay on schedule -- important guarantees for athletes who, as Shriver said, "tend to be control freaks."

It's axiomatic: The better the conditions, the greater the advantage for the favorites, especially if they're already content with the basics.

Andy Murray, a five-time finalist who relies heavily on his movement, probably would have loathed the Rebound Ace surface. He might even have blown out an ACL on it. But he's a big fan of the Plexicushion. The balls used by the tournament last year added to his all-around comfort. He described them as being "a bit slower" and thus preferable to the ones used at the previous US Open, where he fell victim in the fourth round to the big serve of Kevin Anderson.

It isn't just the conditions that are friendly to the players.

"[One] thing that strikes most players is how happy everyone that works at the event seems to be," Cahill said. "The AO staff has a demeanor that it's a privilege and honor to meet the players and will do anything to make their stay Down Under enjoyable. Most Aussies want you thinking kindly of their country. We are proud of it and treat overseas visitors, especially athletes, like they are standing on a slightly higher ledge. That is especially true in Melbourne as this city sleeps and eats sport."

That helps explain why Federer is so enthusiastic about his stay in Melbourne, and why Djokovic feels so good there. Williams must have really meant it when she said, "I just have so many friends here; I have so many things that I can do. It's the only tournament that when I lose early, I hang out until it's over. It's like I never want to leave here."

Of course, Williams doesn't often lose early in Melbourne. Top players rarely do. That's why the Australian Open has evolved into the gold-standard Grand Slam.