Doing It In Style

The match traveled all the way to the brink of excitement—two set points for Mr. Sauce in the second—only to be turned back to the routine at the last second. It's funny how differently we can perceive the quality of the same set of events: From my view in the stadium, I would have graded the match at B; in their pressers, Federer and Verdasco each said that the level of play had been poor; but watching a few games on a TV at my hotel later, it looked like fantastic, fast-paced tennis. The two people watching near me were certainly impressed. They were almost falling off their chairs at some of the rallies. "Look at Federer," a woman exulted, "he knows everything!" I thought I'd already heard all the compliments I would ever hear about the man, but that one was new. - Steve Tignor. How odd is it that lost amid the ridiculously frivolous and endearingly indignant pages of a tennis message board is a piece of writing so loaded with sparkling wit and understated humour that it almost seems like the work of an accomplished genius. Then again, Steve Tignor probably is a writing genius. I've been reading his columns on the site www.tennis.com since about a year and I can't stop marveling at the remarkable variety and flowing arrangement of thoughts in his articles that keep you hooked right till the very end. It helps, of course, that a large number of his columns are dedicated to the ubiquitous Mr. Federer.

Why am I doing this? Why must I insist on talking about Roger Federer when the tennis story of the week is clearly the frightfully machine-like march of Rafael Nadal towards greatness and unmatched glory? Nadal dusted off Andy Murray 6-1,6-2 in the final of the Indian Wells Masters tournament, the same Murray who's lately taken to giving Federer all sorts of fits while establishing a 6-2 head-to-head record against the possible GOAT (Greatest Of All Time, for the uninformed). Federer is no longer the No. 1 player in the world, he's lost his last 5 matches against Nadal, he's not getting any younger at 27 and is probably unlikely to ever add the elusive French Open crown to his collection of Grand Slam titles. At what point does the man stop being the most illustrious fodder for news, speculation and opinion?

Admittedly, Federer's PR team hasn't exactly been doing its best to keep things low-key. Federer's heart-tugging show of emotion after being vanquished by Nadal in the Australian Open final set the ball rolling (to be fair, however, Federer's PR team probably had nothing to do with Federer's tears, judging by the almost universal bad press heaped on the man after the incident); then came the 'leak' of the fact that Federer's back still wasn't 100 % healed after the injury he suffered last fall. If that weren't enough, Federer's team decided to let the world know that he was flirting with the idea of hiring Darren Cahill, the man widely regarded as the ideal match for Federer's understated dedication to the sport, as a coach - reports about the training sessions the two were having together in Dubai were stealthily and steadily fed to eager ears, leading to much wagging of tongues and scratching of heads. Excitement and joy among Federer fans at this development rose to a fever-pitch, until the bubble was burst with Federer announcing, with a perfectly straight face, that Cahill had turned down the job. Finally, of course, came the big news - Federer and his girlfriend Mirka were expecting their first child "in the summer". Is it just me, or do all of these announcements seem calculated to keep the 13-time Grand Slam champion in the heart of all tennis news? Federer's PR guys must be working overtime. And yet, they needn't have, because Federer is news no matter what he says or does or doesn't say or doesn't do - minor collateral damage that comes from winning 13 Grand Slams and being ranked No.1 for 237 consecutive weeks. It's hard to keep off the name Roger Federer when you're trying to write anything even remotely connected to tennis, and my poor little blog is no exception.

Is Federer being unreasonably stubborn about his game in this inevitable period of his career - the period of decline? Experts have been saying for years that Federer's one-handed backhand, while a breathtakingly gorgeous tennis shot, is simply incapable of holding its own in extended crosscourt rallies to Nadal's viciously spinning forehand. And yet, Federer repeatedly insists on trying to trade beautiful backhands for crushing forehands in nearly every rally of every match he plays against Nadal, often to less than spectacular results. Federer doesn't use his almost-legendary backhand slice nearly enough in his matches against Nadal, and no one seems to know why. His second serve returns continue to be bunted back rather than blasted to the lines the way most experts want him to. Is there really a simple explanation for all of these apparent acts of idiocy? There's been a lot of talk of Nadal's willingness to adapt his game, his style, even himself, to the necessities of battle. In other words, Nadal will do anything to win, and will take a win no matter how it comes about. Roger Federer, on the other hand, gives off the impression that he wants to win in his own style. And while this may seem like a counter-productive attitude at the moment, I believe that when all is said and done, history will reflect kindly on this line of thinking of Federer's.

Federer has always been a traditionalist - the awe and respect that he accords to the game's greats like Rod Laver and Bjorn Borg stand testimony to this fact. But Federer has also been a connoiseur of style and beauty. His one-handed backhand, which is both a devastating asset and a fragile liability at the same time, is perhps the best evidence of this. I can almost imagine an exasperated coach urging a 6-year-old Roger to use both hands on his backhand to gain greater control and power, but to no avail, because little Roger would keep saying "but it looks so much prettier when I use one hand!" Much has been written about Federer's almost balletic movement on the court - people have been known to say that Federer looks like he's flying when he's running around on the court; the term 'full-flight Federer' could not have been more apt for the man on one of his good days. His right hand, while capable of cutting a swathe through the court with a scorching forehand, also has remarkable touch and finesse - his volleys and dropshots are more aesthetic than seems possible for tennis shots. Is it possible, even conceivable, that Federer would have preserved all of these abilities if he had been as willing as Nadal to adapt to the necessities of battle? Would his forehand have looked as majestic if he had learned to put more topspin on it to reduce the errors that now flow so liberally off it? Would his brand of tennis been as eye-pleasing and attractive as it has been over the years if he had been content to lapse into 30-shot rallies built on patience and perseverance?

Federer is a gifted athlete who probably believes he has the divine right to defeat every man across the net from it. While there may be considerably more than a touch of arrogance in that belief, it cannot be denied that it has given us some of the most spectacular tennis that has ever been seen in history. His period of dominance, from 2004 to 2007, will likely be held up as the most magnificent exhibition of artistry and brilliance by any man or woman to have held a racquet. And those glory years would never have happened if Federer hadn't believed, from the outset, that his backhand could hold up against any shot that could be produced by even the most gifted of tennis players. Arrogance is sometimes necessary to become a champion, and so is being a sore loser. Just ask Serena Williams. A player like Rafael Nadal, on the other hand, seems to summon his fighting abilities from the belief that he may not possess a counter for every strike that his opponent throws at him, but he'll find a way to win by constantly improving every single skill he knows. These are two very different, almost diametrically oppposite ways to approach a contest, and the question as to which approach is the more effective one can probably only be answered when the careers of both Federer and Nadal are over.

Federer may likely never regain his form of old, and he may never defeat Nadal or Murray again. Why, he may never even win another Grand Slam title again. But that's alright, because he won all that he could when he played in his own style. And that style was a joy to behold.

P.S. If this post seems like a thinly disguised way to put a positive spin to Federer's depressing run of results of late, then I plead guilty.