Roger Federer. RogFed. The Fed Express. The Swiss magician. The Maestro. A man synonymous with the highest form of tennis, arguably the greatest tennis player of all time. A man who has captured the admiration of millions all over the world, who has broken almost every tennis record worth breaking. He wields his racket with all the skill and grace of a sorcerer waving his wand, as he glides about the court on his gazelle-like legs. That off-forehand which strikes with laser-like precision, that majestic one-handed backhand that one can write poems about, those exquisite drop shots and volleys. And above all, his sheer presence on the tennis court, completely befitting a champion with 17 grand slam titles to his name.
This blog post is not going to be a commentary on Federer's so-called recent "demise". Nor is it going to be a nostalgic account of his glory years. No, these are simply the opinions and musings of an all-too-ardent Federer fan(atic). I'm writing this blog because I feel like it. And because he's Roger Federer.
Don't expect this essay to be impartial. Because it's not going to be. Was David Foster Wallace impartial when he wrote 'Federer as Religious Experience'?
"In an era of specialists, you're either a grass court specialist, or a clay court specialist, or a hard court specialist . . . or you're Roger Federer." - Jimmy Connors
The Fed, as he is sometimes fondly called, possesses an all-court game that is unparalleled in the history of tennis, one that probably will never be matched. On the hallowed grass courts of Wimbledon, he is a deer frolicking in a meadow - a deer that can metamorphose into a tiger for the kill. On the bouncy hard courts of the Australian Open and US Open, he fires groundstrokes at angles that would compel Euclid to revise his treatises on geometry. On the brick red clay of the French Open, a surface that remains his "weakest", he still has enough skill to be one of only 2 men to have won at Roland Garros in the past 9 years. He plays with all the precision and timelessness of a well-made Swiss watch, much like the Rolex timepieces he endorses. Give him a cricket bat and he'll still amaze you with his tennis skills.
Roger Federer took up tennis at a tender age. While he excelled at numerous sports as a child (namely football, badminton, and basketball), the world can be thankful that he finally zeroed in on tennis, for otherwise we would have never been treated to the masterpieces of this artist. And so, in the 1980's, a legend was born. One can only assume that the heavens rumbled and lightning surged across the sky when he first picked up a tennis racket. Angels descended from above and waxed lyrical with prophecies of 17 grand slam titles, 302 weeks as world no. 1, and the kind of shot-making artistry that would never cease to amaze.
He is one of the most technically sound players to have ever stepped onto a tennis court, if not the most. He often relies on well-placed strokes and outwits his opponent by carefully setting up his points, rather than by brute force and aggression. Every shot is premeditated, and sometimes one gets the impression that the ball goes exactly where he wants it to. Those gravity-defying drop volleys that seem to hover just a bit longer than permitted by physical laws, those rifling winners that somehow always kiss the lines, and those outrageous between-the-legs "tweeners" that cause jaws to drop on a regular basis - all of these have become hallmarks of the great man. When his serve is on song, his game elevates to a whole new level. With typical Federer-like panache, he always uses exactly the same ball toss to disguise the nature of his serves - be it an ace that barrels down the T, a wicked kick serve to the body, or a slice serve that swings away from the hapless soul at the other end of the court. Add up all of these qualities and you have the complete tennis player.
While Federer possesses the kind of talent that most would give up their kidneys for, his prodigious skill often overshadows the amount of effort he puts into his game. He makes it look as if winning a tennis match is as easy as watching it - his on-court expressions are usually those of a man taking a leisurely stroll, and he must possess a revolutionary deodorant, because he just doesn't break a sweat! This demeanour of his conceals a killer instinct and a burning desire to be the best. He's always wanted to win, and he's never satisfied until he's kissing the silverware (which, over the course of his illustrious career, he's done so many times that I've lost count). Even his off-court persona is genteel, and he is widely regarded as a wonderful human being. Whether during charity work in Africa, or during an exhibition match atop the Burj al Arab, he always manages to find the time to chat with a fan, or pose for the cameras, armed with his signature smile. His post-match press conferences are seldom intense, and he usually manages to slip in a snide remark or a backhanded compliment about a fellow competitor, something that only he can get away with. Because he's Roger Federer, the tennis genius with his patented blend of humility and slight cockiness.
A discussion on Federer would be incomplete without a discussion of his arch-nemises; the Moriarty to his Sherlock, the Lex Luther to his Superman, the Nadal to his Federer. (Oh, wait.)
Yes, Rafael Nadal, that indomitable warrior from Mallorca, with his infinite reserves of stamina and will, his all-too-baggy shorts, and his discus-hurling forehand that leaves a trail of utter destruction in its wake. One of the greatest fighters in the history of sport, he chases down every shot his opponents can throw at him and returns them with a vengeance. The Federer-Nadal rivalry is the stuff of legend. During Fed's peak years of 2003-2009, when he was king of the castle, only one man dared stand up to him, and stand up to him he did. Nadal burst onto the scene in style, with his long hair and biceps and capri shorts, and halted the Fed Express in its tracks. He turned Roland Garros into his own personal fortress - any mortal who tried to carry out an assault bit the dust (at the French Open, quite literally). Every challenger was repelled in a whirlwind of red clay and wicked topspin. Nadal was instrumental in denying Federer his first French Open title, so much so that it became the one goal Fed could not achieve for what seemed like an eternity. While he eventually did succeed at Roland Garros in 2009, it was after many failed attempts, all thanks to the Spaniard.
The turning point in the "Fedal" saga came at the 2008 Wimbledon tournament, one that is sure to go down in the annals of history as the greatest tennis match ever played. Roger Federer was gunning for his record 6th straight Wimbledon title, and Rafael Nadal was looking for his first, after two heartbreaking losses to Federer at SW19 over the previous two years. As the final arrived, and Centre Court settled down for the clash of the titans, a hush fell over the crowd. The rain ceased and birds fell silent, as if to highlight the feeling that history was about to be made. Rafa charged out of the blocks and decimated Federer in the first two sets, and it looked as if the Swiss genius was going to bow out without much of a fight. Rain interrupted the match at this point, and Federer was able to regroup. As play resumed, he worked some of his usual magic to mount one of the greatest comebacks in the history of tennis, and managed to level the score at 2 sets all. In the final set, neither man was willing to give an inch, neither was willing to buckle. The match crept towards the fifth hour, daytime slowly transformed into darkness, and yet the two athletes continued to bludgeon the ball as if to avenge a great personal wrong. Not a single spectator dared breathe, so mesmerising was the spectacle. It's safe to assume that someone in that audience cracked under the suspense and anticipation. I almost did. With Rafa serving for the championship, holding 2 match points, Federer conjured up one last flash of brilliance to thread the needle with a sublime backhand winner, one that he'll surely remember forever. The match ended on the next point, however, and Nadal fell onto the grass, sobbing like he'd never sobbed before, for he had just dethroned the King of Wimbledon. Their rivalry was never the same after this epic encounter, and many agree that this victory gave Nadal a significant psychological edge over Federer. One can see that in the whopping 23-11 head-to-head margin he currently holds over the Swiss.
In 2013, after enjoying a fantastic 2012 season that saw him regain the World no. 1 ranking, lift his record 7th Wimbledon title, and capture the Silver medal at the London Olympics, Federer stumbled. He started losing to the likes of Kei Nishikori and Julien Benneteau, players whom he would have normally swatted aside without second thought. He appeared for the Rome Masters tournament sporting a short haircut, sans his signature wavy locks. Federer in short hair seemed just wrong. Everyone assumed that the Fed Express would be back on track at Wimbledon - his favourite hunting ground. And then he was unceremoniously tossed in the second round by the previously unheard-of Sergiy Stakhovsky. (Wait, Sergiy who?) His timing was off, he appeared a tad slower, his service game stopped supporting him. But what shocked Federer fans the most was that he seemed tired, he seemed less confident, he seemed ordinary.
Federer headed into the off-season before 2014 with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Critics everywhere were clamouring for his retirement, journalists were coming up with mournful eulogies, fans were lamenting his performance during his annus horribilis. He disappeared from the limelight and went to work on reconstructing his game.
Enter a new, larger racket. Enter Swedish legend Stefan Edberg. Something about this new combination just clicked - he found the perfect mentor in Edberg (the two are already being associated with the portmanteau "Fedberg"), and the larger racket gave him more power and control over his strokes. Most importantly, he regained the confidence that had led him to 17 major titles, but had eluded him all throughout 2013. A strong showing at the 2014 Australian Open (he lost to Nadal in the semifinal, but Rafa has always been the one lock Federer can't find the key to) and a victory in the finals at Dubai over Novak Djokovic cemented his phoenix-esque resurgence.
He's in a much better state of mind this year. His serve is once again striking fear into the hearts of his opponents. His forehand is lethal again. His backhands have benefited from the larger racket. And under the precise tutelage of Edberg, he's playing much more attacking tennis, regularly rushing the net, and serve-and-volleying with abandon. Moreover, he's enjoying tennis again. The demons of 2013 seem to have been exorcised. One can only wait and watch as the 2014 season unfolds.
When Rudyard Kipling wrote 'If', he wanted it to be interpreted as paternal advice. Roger Federer can certainly benefit from Kipling's words. If he can trust himself when all men doubt him, he'll still be the tennis player he once was. Eventually, he is going to retire (even I won't deny that), but that does not mean that he is still not a force to contend with. When his timing is in place, when his mind is focused, and when his game clicks, there is almost no better spectacle than Roger Federer on a tennis court. Because he is an inspiration to millions, a tennis legend, a champion of champions, and the Greatest Of All Time.
On to Slam #18.
This blog post is not going to be a commentary on Federer's so-called recent "demise". Nor is it going to be a nostalgic account of his glory years. No, these are simply the opinions and musings of an all-too-ardent Federer fan(atic). I'm writing this blog because I feel like it. And because he's Roger Federer.
Don't expect this essay to be impartial. Because it's not going to be. Was David Foster Wallace impartial when he wrote 'Federer as Religious Experience'?
"In an era of specialists, you're either a grass court specialist, or a clay court specialist, or a hard court specialist . . . or you're Roger Federer." - Jimmy Connors
The Fed, as he is sometimes fondly called, possesses an all-court game that is unparalleled in the history of tennis, one that probably will never be matched. On the hallowed grass courts of Wimbledon, he is a deer frolicking in a meadow - a deer that can metamorphose into a tiger for the kill. On the bouncy hard courts of the Australian Open and US Open, he fires groundstrokes at angles that would compel Euclid to revise his treatises on geometry. On the brick red clay of the French Open, a surface that remains his "weakest", he still has enough skill to be one of only 2 men to have won at Roland Garros in the past 9 years. He plays with all the precision and timelessness of a well-made Swiss watch, much like the Rolex timepieces he endorses. Give him a cricket bat and he'll still amaze you with his tennis skills.
Roger Federer took up tennis at a tender age. While he excelled at numerous sports as a child (namely football, badminton, and basketball), the world can be thankful that he finally zeroed in on tennis, for otherwise we would have never been treated to the masterpieces of this artist. And so, in the 1980's, a legend was born. One can only assume that the heavens rumbled and lightning surged across the sky when he first picked up a tennis racket. Angels descended from above and waxed lyrical with prophecies of 17 grand slam titles, 302 weeks as world no. 1, and the kind of shot-making artistry that would never cease to amaze.
He is one of the most technically sound players to have ever stepped onto a tennis court, if not the most. He often relies on well-placed strokes and outwits his opponent by carefully setting up his points, rather than by brute force and aggression. Every shot is premeditated, and sometimes one gets the impression that the ball goes exactly where he wants it to. Those gravity-defying drop volleys that seem to hover just a bit longer than permitted by physical laws, those rifling winners that somehow always kiss the lines, and those outrageous between-the-legs "tweeners" that cause jaws to drop on a regular basis - all of these have become hallmarks of the great man. When his serve is on song, his game elevates to a whole new level. With typical Federer-like panache, he always uses exactly the same ball toss to disguise the nature of his serves - be it an ace that barrels down the T, a wicked kick serve to the body, or a slice serve that swings away from the hapless soul at the other end of the court. Add up all of these qualities and you have the complete tennis player.
While Federer possesses the kind of talent that most would give up their kidneys for, his prodigious skill often overshadows the amount of effort he puts into his game. He makes it look as if winning a tennis match is as easy as watching it - his on-court expressions are usually those of a man taking a leisurely stroll, and he must possess a revolutionary deodorant, because he just doesn't break a sweat! This demeanour of his conceals a killer instinct and a burning desire to be the best. He's always wanted to win, and he's never satisfied until he's kissing the silverware (which, over the course of his illustrious career, he's done so many times that I've lost count). Even his off-court persona is genteel, and he is widely regarded as a wonderful human being. Whether during charity work in Africa, or during an exhibition match atop the Burj al Arab, he always manages to find the time to chat with a fan, or pose for the cameras, armed with his signature smile. His post-match press conferences are seldom intense, and he usually manages to slip in a snide remark or a backhanded compliment about a fellow competitor, something that only he can get away with. Because he's Roger Federer, the tennis genius with his patented blend of humility and slight cockiness.
A discussion on Federer would be incomplete without a discussion of his arch-nemises; the Moriarty to his Sherlock, the Lex Luther to his Superman, the Nadal to his Federer. (Oh, wait.)
Yes, Rafael Nadal, that indomitable warrior from Mallorca, with his infinite reserves of stamina and will, his all-too-baggy shorts, and his discus-hurling forehand that leaves a trail of utter destruction in its wake. One of the greatest fighters in the history of sport, he chases down every shot his opponents can throw at him and returns them with a vengeance. The Federer-Nadal rivalry is the stuff of legend. During Fed's peak years of 2003-2009, when he was king of the castle, only one man dared stand up to him, and stand up to him he did. Nadal burst onto the scene in style, with his long hair and biceps and capri shorts, and halted the Fed Express in its tracks. He turned Roland Garros into his own personal fortress - any mortal who tried to carry out an assault bit the dust (at the French Open, quite literally). Every challenger was repelled in a whirlwind of red clay and wicked topspin. Nadal was instrumental in denying Federer his first French Open title, so much so that it became the one goal Fed could not achieve for what seemed like an eternity. While he eventually did succeed at Roland Garros in 2009, it was after many failed attempts, all thanks to the Spaniard.
The turning point in the "Fedal" saga came at the 2008 Wimbledon tournament, one that is sure to go down in the annals of history as the greatest tennis match ever played. Roger Federer was gunning for his record 6th straight Wimbledon title, and Rafael Nadal was looking for his first, after two heartbreaking losses to Federer at SW19 over the previous two years. As the final arrived, and Centre Court settled down for the clash of the titans, a hush fell over the crowd. The rain ceased and birds fell silent, as if to highlight the feeling that history was about to be made. Rafa charged out of the blocks and decimated Federer in the first two sets, and it looked as if the Swiss genius was going to bow out without much of a fight. Rain interrupted the match at this point, and Federer was able to regroup. As play resumed, he worked some of his usual magic to mount one of the greatest comebacks in the history of tennis, and managed to level the score at 2 sets all. In the final set, neither man was willing to give an inch, neither was willing to buckle. The match crept towards the fifth hour, daytime slowly transformed into darkness, and yet the two athletes continued to bludgeon the ball as if to avenge a great personal wrong. Not a single spectator dared breathe, so mesmerising was the spectacle. It's safe to assume that someone in that audience cracked under the suspense and anticipation. I almost did. With Rafa serving for the championship, holding 2 match points, Federer conjured up one last flash of brilliance to thread the needle with a sublime backhand winner, one that he'll surely remember forever. The match ended on the next point, however, and Nadal fell onto the grass, sobbing like he'd never sobbed before, for he had just dethroned the King of Wimbledon. Their rivalry was never the same after this epic encounter, and many agree that this victory gave Nadal a significant psychological edge over Federer. One can see that in the whopping 23-11 head-to-head margin he currently holds over the Swiss.
In 2013, after enjoying a fantastic 2012 season that saw him regain the World no. 1 ranking, lift his record 7th Wimbledon title, and capture the Silver medal at the London Olympics, Federer stumbled. He started losing to the likes of Kei Nishikori and Julien Benneteau, players whom he would have normally swatted aside without second thought. He appeared for the Rome Masters tournament sporting a short haircut, sans his signature wavy locks. Federer in short hair seemed just wrong. Everyone assumed that the Fed Express would be back on track at Wimbledon - his favourite hunting ground. And then he was unceremoniously tossed in the second round by the previously unheard-of Sergiy Stakhovsky. (Wait, Sergiy who?) His timing was off, he appeared a tad slower, his service game stopped supporting him. But what shocked Federer fans the most was that he seemed tired, he seemed less confident, he seemed ordinary.
Federer headed into the off-season before 2014 with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Critics everywhere were clamouring for his retirement, journalists were coming up with mournful eulogies, fans were lamenting his performance during his annus horribilis. He disappeared from the limelight and went to work on reconstructing his game.
Enter a new, larger racket. Enter Swedish legend Stefan Edberg. Something about this new combination just clicked - he found the perfect mentor in Edberg (the two are already being associated with the portmanteau "Fedberg"), and the larger racket gave him more power and control over his strokes. Most importantly, he regained the confidence that had led him to 17 major titles, but had eluded him all throughout 2013. A strong showing at the 2014 Australian Open (he lost to Nadal in the semifinal, but Rafa has always been the one lock Federer can't find the key to) and a victory in the finals at Dubai over Novak Djokovic cemented his phoenix-esque resurgence.
He's in a much better state of mind this year. His serve is once again striking fear into the hearts of his opponents. His forehand is lethal again. His backhands have benefited from the larger racket. And under the precise tutelage of Edberg, he's playing much more attacking tennis, regularly rushing the net, and serve-and-volleying with abandon. Moreover, he's enjoying tennis again. The demons of 2013 seem to have been exorcised. One can only wait and watch as the 2014 season unfolds.
When Rudyard Kipling wrote 'If', he wanted it to be interpreted as paternal advice. Roger Federer can certainly benefit from Kipling's words. If he can trust himself when all men doubt him, he'll still be the tennis player he once was. Eventually, he is going to retire (even I won't deny that), but that does not mean that he is still not a force to contend with. When his timing is in place, when his mind is focused, and when his game clicks, there is almost no better spectacle than Roger Federer on a tennis court. Because he is an inspiration to millions, a tennis legend, a champion of champions, and the Greatest Of All Time.
On to Slam #18.
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