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Scenes from Eastbourne: Tuesday

Wed, 19 Jun 2013 03:47:00 +0000

Photos by Anita Aguilar.

The pier at Eastbourne, opened in 1870 but mostly quiet today, has a melancholy, Gatsby-esque beauty.

Flavia Pennetta celebrated a winning point in her doubles match with Elena Vesnina. As the grounds thinned out later, Flavia stayed late into the evening to practice with her coach.

New British hope Kyle Edmund, 18, reacts to a close call in his doubles match Tuesday.

Juan Monaco signs an autograph for a young fan.

Yuliya Beygelzeimer, who lost to Laura Robson Tuesday, doesn't appear encouraged by her coach's words.

Clouds, and a crowd, gathered to see a doubles match featuring Andy Murray's brother, Jamie.

Old pro Feliciano Lopez, another member of the over-30 brigade, sweated out a win.

Angelique Kerber is known for her defense, but she went full speed ahead with this shot in her win over Sorana Cirstea on Tuesday...

...as did Petra Kvitova with this backhand...

...as did Li Na with this forehand.

Eastbourne may be best seen at night, when the lights along the oceanfront are turned on, and Big Band music floats out from the old hotels that line the street.

A sight familiar to all tennis fans: Piotr Wozniacki offers (many) words of advice for his daughter, Caroline. Those words worked today; she'll play Laura Robson Wednesday.

A less talkative Rory McIlroy observed from the bleachers. Asked to comment on her boyfriend's club-bending act at the U.S. Open, Caroline said, "Uh, I...next question?"

A high-flying Lucie Safarova was a winner on Tuesday.

The scores are still changed manually after each point on the outer courts at Eastbourne. A beleaguered teenager is usually held responsible.

Most of the players stay at the Eastbourne Center, a glass-and-concrete pile referred to by at least one local as, "the ugliest hotel in the world." It's not pretty, but it isn't that bad.

How to Have Fun in Eastbourne

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 22:56:00 +0000

EASTBOURNE, England—“Welcome to the Sunshine Coast”: These are the words that greet you as you walk off the train at this small seaside town 90 minutes southeast of London. Eastbourne, as more than one local has informed me in the last 24 hours, is the sunniest place anywhere in England. Which makes me wonder: What qualifies as “sunny,” exactly? As long as the clouds aren’t pitch black?

After years of glimpsing the tops of the Victorian homes behind center court here on television, I had expected Eastbourne to be the staidest of vacation villages. It’s certainly peaceful, but it’s also rougher around the edges than I had anticipated, a place whose heyday must have come decades ago, when people in England still spent their summer holidays in England. It’s June, yet enough storefronts remain shut that you could mistake it for the winter off-season. The hotels that line the main seaside street, which is known as the Royal Parade, seem to be reserved for citizens 70 and up. Husbands and wives gather in large groups in the lounges to smoke and watch the water and listen to Big Band music, which floats out toward the sea in the evening. If you were going to make a documentary about Eastbourne, you might start with the title, Cocoon, With Cigarettes.

All of which gives the oceanfront a surreal, melancholy, Gatsby-esque beauty, like an empty set from a Jazz Age movie. The main street is lined with lawn gardens and blue, Deco-era railings and light fixtures, and the gravelly beach is virtually deserted by day; on Monday, the loudest noises came from the imperious seagulls that perch on the highest points in town before swooping down to head level. The water was silvery and rough, and the pier that juts far into the sea, with its shuttered fudge shops and archaic amusements, was eerily silent except for the fishermen working and cursing at its far end. One restaurant on the pier was closed, yet its chairs and table settings were still perfectly arranged, seemingly ready for a dinner that took place in 1918. The film I was reminded of this time was The Shining, if Jack Nicholson had spent his fateful winter by the ocean rather than the mountains.

All in all, it’s an unlikely place for many of the world’s best tennis players to gather. Most of them stay on the main drag at the Eastbourne Center, a dark, modernist concrete pile that stands out among the older hotels. When I was getting directions to the tennis center, one Eastbourne resident told me, “Walk until you see the ugliest hotel in the world, and then turn right.” He was referring to the Eastbourne Center—it's not pretty, but it’s not that bad. As I was walking back along a sidestreet, I saw Li Na and her husband coming the other way, possibly looking for something to eat. They peeked into the fish and chips place on the corner, but decided to keep going. Running into Li Na on a mostly deserted side street in Eastbourne: Now that’s surreal.

The tournament is held in Devonshire Park, a few blocks from the water. Lawn tennis has been played here for more than a century. The event was WTA-only from 1974 to 2008, until the British tennis association moved its ATP tournament here from Nottingham in ’09. No one I know who has been to the event fails to recommend it, and it’s easy to see why. The entire grounds are grass, both the courts and the viewing areas, which is instantly more relaxing than the steaming cement that fans walk on, and players play on, at most tournaments. Spectators line the outer courts, but finding a spot to watch isn’t difficult; there’s little hustle or sense of hurry, and nothing feels cramped. The pros seem to exist on the same plane as the rest of humanity here, as if we’re all attending the championships at our home club.

As you might expect, Eastbourne has its quaint charms and traditions. Players are told to report for their matches over loudspeakers that can be heard around the grounds. On the side courts, the score is kept manually, by a beleaguered boy or girl who must stand, change the number, and sit back down in the 25 seconds between each point—sometimes it doesn’t go so smoothly. When a match is over, the ball kids charge to the middle of the court and take their places at the center service lines on each side of the net. At times, in their excitement, they get there a little sooner than planned. A ball-kid blockade stopped Lucie Safarova and Klara Zakopalova a few feet short of the net as they tried to shake hands after their match on Tuesday.

The best spot for viewing is the second show court, known, in the tradition of all English tennis clubs, as Court 1. It also featured the most newsworthy match of this day, between No. 1 seed Agnieszka Radwanska and No. 41 Jamie Hampton of the United States. Hampton had given Aga a good run in Auckland to start the season, but ended up handing over two sets in tiebreakers. She had controlled the points with her pace in that match, and she did the same today. Just like last time, though, Hampton almost gave it away. She was broken while serving for the first set. "I was rattled,” she admitted. “It was little bit like déjà vu.”

This time Hampton kept swinging big, and she started painting the lines again the first-set tiebreaker, which she won easily. It should be said that Hampton was helped by an awful overrule from chair umpire Mariana Alves, who famously reversed a call against Serena Williams at the U.S. Open a decade ago, thus hastening the implementation of Hawk-Eye. This time Hampton was serving at 5-6, 0-15 in the first set and appeared to be reeling. Her next serve landed well long, and was called long by the linesman. But Alves stepped in and, to Radwanska’s astonishment, said it was good. Hampton went on to hold from there.

Of course, that takes nothing away from Hampton’s win. Despite her fourth-round appearance at the French Open, she had to qualify for this event. The extra work is paying off. She told her coach before the draw was made that, “I want to play Radwanska, because we’ve never played on grass...I want the opportunity to play her again and make sure I come out on top.”

Hampton says she enjoys playing junkballers like Aga because an old coach of hers used to like to get under her skin by giving her different looks and mixing things up. Jamie also says that grass is growing on her.

“Last year at Wimbledon,” Hampton said, “was my first match [on the surface], and everyone told me that you’re going to have a ton of fun on grass. You’re going to be able to come forward and take balls out of the air. I’m having a ton of fun on grass, to be honest.”

I guess a 23-year-old can have fun in Eastbourne, after all. By the end of Hampton's match, the sun really was shining.

Uncomfortable Questions: Venus' Present

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 17:11:00 +0000

Editors' Note: Since this was published, Venus Williams has pulled out of Wimbledon.

Today, we’ll shift to the women in our “uncomfortable questions” series. Think of these daily posts as posing questions that nobody wants or thinks to ask in the midst of all those animated conversations about the favorite sons (and daughters) as Wimbledon approaches. Today, I’ll ask:

Is this the end of the road for Venus Williams?

It seems strange, doesn’t it? But with sister Serena soaking up the headlines like a biscuit sopping up gravy, Venus is so far off the radar that you rarely even hear her name anymore. It’s a shame, or it would be, if we sensed that this somehow hurt or troubled Venus. But that doesn’t appear to be the case. Did you even know that she celebrated her 33rd birthday yesterday, and that number is just one tick off her WTA ranking? (No. 34, not No. 32.) But that’s the thing with Venus—she never did seem like the person who would like to see a big to-do made about it.

Venus will be taking part in her 17th Wimbledon next week. She may, with the tournament's discretion, earn one of the final seeds, while Serena will be top-seeded as well as most fabulously and deservedly hyped. But let’s remember that Venus has won this tournament five times, albeit not since 2008, and her 71-11 record is still four wins better than Serena’s. You’ve certainly accomplished something if you have a better record at Wimbledon than Serena.

Venus played her last Wimbledon final in 2009, losing to Serena 7-6 (3), 6-2. After that, she was beaten in back-to-back tournaments by Tsvetana Pironkova (go figure), and last year was knocked out unceremoniously—6-1, 6-3—by No. 79 Elena Vesnina. The once common prospect of an agonizing, late-tournament clash with Serena is now an outlandish dream reserved for the most hopelessly unrealistic of fans. The sad truth is that Venus is fading from the WTA picture, and very quickly.

Excluding Fed Cup, the older Williams sister hasn’t won a match since Charleston, way back at the start of April. She won three matches there, struggling against Monica Puig and Varvara Lepchenko before having an easier time with Madison Keys. Venus then met Serena in the semis, and was comprehensively and remorselessly beaten, 6-1, 6-2.

Granted, Venus has played only two official tournaments since then, Rome and Roland Garros, where she lost to Laura Robson and Urszula Radwanska, respectively. But that latter match was a bitter and protracted tussle that went the distance after an exchange of tiebreakers, the less-heralded Radwanska winning the third set 6-4. Venus is just 10-5 on the year; her best win thus far has been over No. 27 Lepchenko.

It all began to go wrong for Venus in a big way in 2011. A hip injury forced her to pull out of the Australian Open, where she was seeded fourth, during her third-round match with Andrea Petkovic. It was the first time she retired during a major since 1994.

Venus wouldn’t return to the tour until the Eastbourne grass event, by which time her ranking had dropped to No. 33. She played just nine matches the rest of that year, partly because she was diagnosed with Sjogren’s syndrome. The autoimmune disease forced her to pull out of the U.S. Open after just one completed match, and she finished the year ranked No. 103—and worrying about her future in tennis.

Venus fought her way back up to No. 24 in the course of 2012, but the omens weren’t entirely favorable. The disease continued to have an impact on her ability to compete; Venus won just four matches in Grand Slam and Olympic play. But she did win a minor tournament at the end of the year, besting No. 70 Monica Niculescu in the final at Luxembourg.

But neither time nor the vigor of youth is on Venus’ side anymore, and what compensations she derives from life as a mature adult are unlikely to provide benefits on the tennis court, except in one way—she certainly knows enough now to cherish her moments of success, which may end up being most gratifying in doubles.

Venus and Serena Williams remain the best of all women’s doubles teams, and probably the best ever. Furthermore, they’re such iconic players that people flock to watch them. I’d bet you’d have a tougher time finding a seat at one of their doubles matches than for a singles battle between Angelique Kerber and Agnieszka Radwanska. That must not only help soften the mental blows Venus has endured, but it also enables her to take a good look around, enjoying the scenery, as she winds down her career. Lots of players don’t get that chance; they’re forced to skulk away from the game with their tails between their legs, beaten down by an accumulation of losses that make even the best of time seem too far way and too long ago.

The looming question at the moment regarding Venus appears to be, “Does she have one more good singles run left in her?” Given her athletic gifts, I’m tempted to write that she does, despite her age. But those other factors—the Sjogren’s syndrome, the niggling injuries, the consistent lack of regular match play, the burnout she must feel at times, after 18 years with a WTA ranking—those are warning signs. Their net weight may be too much of a burden to bear.

I wonder sometimes if Venus counts herself lucky to have Serena around, taking up most of the oxygen in the room. To some degree, it has enabled Venus to weather the challenges she’s steadily faced since 2011 in relative privacy. And this: Because she will be in great demand as a doubles player, she can leave the game without leaving the game, if you know what I mean. Perhaps she’s already done so.

Personally, I’m hoping Venus has one more strong singles run left in those wonderful long legs, that we get to see her rain down a few more of those 129 M.P.H. aces—she still leads Serena, and all other WTA stars, in the fastest serve competition; her sister’s best recorded serve is still fourth-tenths of a second slower—and that we can enjoy the way those long strides eat up the court as she closes on the net.

My favorite women’s match of all time probably is the 2005 Wimbledon final, in which Venus got the best of Lindsay Davenport, 9-7 in the third. That match gave us the best of both worlds: Davenport’s remarkably clean, crisp shot-making, and Venus’ explosive, aggressive athleticism. My fondest wish for this Wimbledon is to see Venus in that mode just one more time, although a few more times would suit me even better.

Keeping Tabs: June 18

Tue, 18 Jun 2013 15:37:00 +0000

LONDON—We’re near the start, I believe, of what's known as the Season here. Races, regattas, tennis, golf: There’s something each week to go with your Pimm’s. Among tennis fans and writers, it’s also the start of another familiar season. You might call it the build-up to Wimbledon, but I think of it as the time of year when I start to see headlines like this one, from Monday in London's Daily Mirror:

ANDY MURRAY IS AN EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL

That’s a new one, as far as I can tell, when it comes to hyping Murray’s chances at Wimbledon. Though it does seem like a logical tabloid conclusion—”Muzz was really Bat Boy all along!”

Yet the Mirror has a rationale: It was Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, apparently, who called him the E.T. of the tennis world. But what did Jo really say? That Muzz is playing “out of this world”? No, on further inspection of the article, it seems that Tsonga said what they said he said, and more:

“He is the best returner in the world, along with Novak Djokovic,” Jo said of Murray. “The two of them, they are extra-terrestrials. They make you feel like the court is smaller.”

Tsonga went on to make the interesting point that Djokovic and Murray are those rare players who can get in your heads with their returning skills alone.

“Against certain players, I get the feeling the box grows bigger. The more I serve, the less they know where I am going to serve. Against [Murray and Djokovic], it’s the opposite. The longer the match goes on, the more you feel they know where you are going to serve. You get the feeling that the box is a lot smaller, and that sometimes makes you force things and miss the first service. You get the feeling he breaks when he wants to break.”

“It's quite impressive,” Jo concludes. Like something from another planet, even.

*****

The next question on everyone’s mind here, of course, is how Murray will fare against his main rivals. Yet there's some disagreement over who the biggest threat to him really is. Neil Harman of the Times believes it will come from Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal, each of whom is in “seismic form.” Based on Harman’s description of Rafa and Nole’s recent clash in Paris, it’s hard to see how poor Andy has any sort of a chance:

“Their meeting in the semifinals of the French Open just 10 days ago,” Harman writes, “which was all staggering machismo, rallies that tugged at the sinews, drained the lungs and which defined modern-day tennis, is rather too fresh in the memory not to believe that the man who defeats either of them at the All England Club will have either won the cup or gone a very long way to doing so.”

Elsewhere, though, England’s writers haven’t forgotten the man who beat Murray here last year, Roger Federer. The Guardian touts Federer, and his win in Halle this weekend, with a headline that would have been unthinkably, un, humble, a few years ago:

FEDERER HOPES HALLE FORM IS ENOUGH TO MAKE RIVALS THINK

Leave it to the lower-brow Sun, though, to set the coming conflict between Murray and Federer in motion right away. The paper first gives proper respect, if that’s the right world, to Murray’s win at Queen’s with this banner headline:

TEARS ‘N A CROWN: ANDY’S SOB GLORY

This time the tears in Andy Murray’s eyes were those of a champion

Yet just below that article, the Sun sneaks in a smaller, almost subliminal, three-word headline:

FED ON FIRE

I think we can see the central drama that the paper will pushing for the next three weeks.

*****

Murray’s title at Queen’s wasn’t his only winning performance on Sunday. Afterward, he let his guard down during an exhibition for a cancer charity and won over the crowd in an entirely different way. The Daily Telegraph, with its eyes narrowed on the class angle, found this almost as significant as his tournament win, calling it...

THE DAY A SCOT BECAME THE FAVORITE SON AT QUEEN’S

“Suddenly,” Oliver Brown wrote, “we could herald a seminal moment in the humanizing of Andy Murray.”

Along the way to praising the new Muzz, though, Brown can’t help but find a tart new way to describe the old version:

“He transformed in front of our eyes from the surly tartan misanthrope to the model of compassionate benevolence, even blowing a kiss to his confrère Ross Hutchins in the crowd.”

"Transformed from a surly tartan misanthrope": Is this what you'd call a two-handed backhand compliment?

We know the hype will begin as far as Murray’s play is concerned, but we may also be in for another line of speculation about his personality, and whether he can finally “connect” with British tennis fans:

“Murray has been struggling to beguile a dubious British public for the best part of a decade,” Brown writes, “but at last, three Sundays before what could bring his maiden Wimbledon coronation, a connection between actor and audience was forged at Queen’s.”

*****

Put it all together and I think we have an Andy Murray narrative ready to unfold, just in time for the fortnight to begin:

Can E.T. phone home?

Uncomfortable Questions: The Big Four's Little

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 19:03:00 +0000

This week, in the run-up to Wimbledon, I’ll dispense with the customary preview mechanics in order to focus on what I would call the uncomfortable questions that loom over the tournament. Think of them as questions nobody wants or thinks to ask in the midst of all those animated conversations about the favorite sons (and daughters) as the tournament approaches. So let’s start this off with the first question that ought to make some of you fidget and squirm:

Who among the “Big Four” is in the most perilous situation (comparatively speaking) as the tournament approaches?

It’s funny, but if you put this question out there a week ago, you would almost reflexively say it’s a toss-up between Andy Murray and defending champion Roger Federer. That’s because Federer left the French Open (after losing to Jo-Wilfried Tsonga in the quarterfinals) still looking for his first tournament victory since last year’s Cincinnati Masters, almost 10 months ago. Murray, for his part, looked to be in serious trouble after pulling out of his first match in Rome, with a back injury that subsequently forced him to pull out of the French Open.

But those men boosted their stock considerably with title runs last week. Concerned about his future just a few weeks ago, Murray made it through some familiar trials at Queen’s Club. He endured rain delays, slick courts, and all the bending and lunging required on grass in excellent shape. Looking ahead to Wimbledon after dispatching defending champ Marin Cilic in the final, the Scot said: “To come through after the last three, four weeks is really, really nice. The most important thing, next week or so, is just to make sure I keep improving the strength of my back. I’m in a good place and I just keep working hard the next week.”

A runner-up at Halle a year ago, Federer went back to a familiar well and pulled up a bucket containing his sixth Halle trophy. He beat Tommy Haas, who Federer lost to in Halle last year, along the way, and took out Mikhail Youzhny in a three-set final. It was just the fourth set Youzhny has won from Federer in 15 meetings going all the way back to 2000. Federer has won all those matches—but that’s not even the best part.

Most of you know this is the 10th anniversary of seven-time Wimbledon champion Federer’s first triumph that the All England Club. He also beat Youzhny at Halle in 2003. Furthermore, Federer counted coup on the racquet-smashing Russian during his title run last year, too. Karma, or mere coincidence?

“Ten years ago I went into Wimbledon with so much pressure,” Federer said after winning at Halle. “Even though I had lost in the first round the year before I needed to prove my point, that I was a legitimate Grand Slam contender. I had incredible pressure. Now, ten years later, I know Wimbledon, I know Halle, and I know what I need to do to perform well. I’m going in with pressure because I'm defending my title.”

Clearly these two men are not just arcing upward, they’ll also be in a comfort zone at Wimbledon. Federer because of his personal history in London’s SW19 postal zone, and Murray because he recorded his first major win on those same courts when he won gold in last summer’s Olympic Games. And Murray appears to have already cleared what once appeared to be the largest hurdle of his career, the circus-like atmosphere and pressures that would surround him as, potentially, the first British man to win Wimbledon since Fred Perry did it over 75 years ago.

The two men who have split the Grand Slam titles offered thus far this year haven’t given us much to go on when it comes to Wimbledon. Top-ranked Novak Djokovic chose to recover and re-apply himself after losing an epic French Open semifinal to the now fifth-ranked Rafael Nadal. As Djokovic said shortly after that defeat, “I wanted this title so much, so I am disappointed. That's it. That's the way I feel. (But) I don't think it's going take the toll on me in the future because I have been in these particular situations before.” He added he will use the time off between majors to “mentally get motivated and inspired” for Wimbledon.

Djokovic’s main challenges appear to be mental and emotional, while Nadal’s own concerns never stray very far from the physical. Rafa pulled out of Halle before he successfully completed his mission to win an eighth French Open title, but we know by now that those problematic knees are a constant source of anxiety for Nadal. My Spanish sources told me that Nadal’s personal physician told him in no uncertain terms to pull out of Halle to spare his knees, whereupon Rafa went home to relax for a few days.

Djokovic and Nadal are both taking a calculated risk by embarking on Wimbledon with no competitive matches on grass, but the Serb did so the past two years, winning the title in 2011 and losing to Federer in the semis last year. Nadal appears to be assuming the greater risk, because he’s played at either Queen’s Club or Halle for the past two years, raising an interesting question: Did his experience last year, when he won at Roland Garros and played Halle before Lukas Rosol blasted him off Centre Court, leave him gun shy on grass?

Nadal’s knees were aching by Wimbledon time last year; the fact that he took over seven months off after the loss to Rosol confirms just how serious the injury was. That might be enough to make Nadal as skittish as a cat next week, despite the confidence, joy, and relief he experienced when he won Roland Garros.

As reliable as Nadal has been (at least before his knees began to act up) and as brilliantly as he’s performed at Wimbledon throughout his career, the tournament has also been unkind to him at times. Nadal has won the title twice, and it was the scene of his finest moment in tennis—the 9-7 in-the-fifth win over Federer in the 2008 final, a match that many pick as the greatest of all-time.

But time flies, and 2008 was a long time—and many painful injections and therapy sessions—ago. Nadal was unable to defend his crown the following year, but he rebounded to win his second title in 2010 with a win over no-slam-wonder Tomas Berdych. As proud as Nadal has been to shatter the “clay-court specialist” label, and to topple an icon like Federer, he lost the only completed match he’s played at Wimbledon with Djokovic (the 2011 final), and he’s still 1-2 there against Federer. On the other hand, he’s 3-0 against Murray at Wimbledon, but that’s more of a problem for the Scot than a solution for Nadal.

In Paris, Nadal left the impression that reasserting his towering superiority on clay was of utmost importance to him. He may be due for an emotional letdown, and the constant stress about his knees can’t be a good omen for him. Since Wimbledon won’t be elevating him in the seedings, Nadal might once again be faced with meeting a top seed in the quarterfinals.

As outstanding as Rafa’s record is at Wimbledon, the questions about his physical condition, preparation, and recent history on grass suggest that while Djokovic is still licking fresh wounds, while Murray might still be the least likely to win at Wimbledon, and while Federer has succeeded in just one of his last 13 majors, the player most likely to absorb a shocking loss during the fortnight is Rafael Nadal.

Scenes from Queen's Club: The Weekend

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 11:11:00 +0000

Photos by Anita Aguilar.

The player introductions, which are made at the club's front door, are a special touch at Queen's. Here Marin Cilic walks out—not for the last time—to try to start the final on Sunday.

Andy Murray smiling? Technically, yes, though this one was sarcastic.

Now there's the Muzz we know and love. Maybe this should be the model for his wax figure at Madame Tussaud's?

Cilic casts a long shadow at this tournament. He won last year, and reached the final this time.

At times this weekend it felt, and looked, like we were on the high seas inside Centre Court.

You can't say the people at Queen's didn't come prepared.

The members get certain perks, such as having their seats toweled when the rain stops. Apparently smiling as you work is required as well.

Murray let us know what he thought of Saturday's five-hour rain delay.

You will know him by his hat. Lleyton Hewitt, 32, is still sporting the backwards cap, and still making the semis at Queen's.

Rusty reaches for another serve.

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga's coach, Roger Rasheed, said this week that Jo doesn't dwell on his defeats. He bounced back from disappointment in Paris to reach the semis.

Along the way, Jo injected a little Gallic verve into the clubby English scene.

The crowd went silent when Murray went down with a yelp in the final. He said afterward that he felt fine.

Two questions, Tomas: I know you that's your Twitter account, but....really? Also, is that your real hair?

Ivan Lendl gets a taste of his own medicine, with a shot to the hip from his pupil, Andy Murray, during the post-final exhibition.

Murray celebrating victory? No, something even better: Plugging his coach with the ball.

Lendl has jokes? He threatened to show all to Judy Murray during the post-final exo...

...and that was something Murray's girlfriend, Kim Sears (right), didn't want to risk seeing.

Real tennis, the game of royalty and the grandaddy of all racquet sports, is still played at the club, which opened in 1886 and can claim Queen Victoria as its first member.

Every real tennis ball is a little different; the players sew their own.

Queen's keeps its history on its walls, including posters from the McEnroe-Connors duels of the early 1980s.

There's a smile from Andy.

How did a crazed dumpster-diver sneak into...hold on, is that the Mayor of London? Yes, it's Boris Johnson, and he wasn't bad for a man using a warped wooden racquet.

More memorable than anything else this week was the sight of Murray tearing up when he mentioned his friend and doubles partner, Ross Hutchins (left). The British player is battling cancer, and he helped put together a benefit on Sunday to help fight the disease.

Great(er) Expectations

Mon, 17 Jun 2013 00:57:00 +0000

LONDON—Some people really take to Queen’s. It’s the home of the repeat champion: Lleyton Hewitt, Andy Roddick, John McEnroe, and Boris Becker have all won it four times, and Pete Sampras, Jimmy Connors, and Ivan Lendl each did it twice. That’s a pretty prestigious list of winners for a 250-level event held at a tiny club in a rainy town.

The tradition continued today in the Aegon Championships final, which featured the winners from 2011 and 2012, Andy Murray and Marin Cilic. And for a second straight day, the two of them had their patience tested by another repeat champion at Queen’s: the interminable rain delay. After surviving a five-hour downpour on Saturday, they waited for more than three hours to get started today. But once again, Murray and Cilic finished by thrilling a packed house with three sets of entertaining play in the late-afternoon sunshine—the Croat called it “great, great tennis”—before Murray won his third Aegon title in five years. That’s enough to keep any player coming back for more.

In Murray’s case, it wasn’t just the win that was familiar; it was the way he went about it. For the second straight day, he lost the first set, wavered in the middle of the second before steadying himself, and ran away with the third. Murray has been nursing a back injury that had forced him out of the French Open and had made him a question mark for this event. After his semifinal win over Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, Murray said that he had been “sloppy” at times after four weeks away, that he had played well only in “patches,” but that he was satisfied that he had “found ways to win.” The same could be said for his performance over the first two sets on Sunday. Murray started with a more assertive attitude and broke Cilic immediately; his forehand looked crisper than it had all week, and he saved three break points at 2-0 with two service winners and an ace that were clocked at 132-,134-, and 136-M.P.H., respectively. It was at that moment that a question—unbidden, unwanted—wormed its way into my mind: “Is Andy Murray the favorite to win Wimbledon?”

Was I getting ahead of myself? The answer seemed to come right away. Murray’s forehand, as it had at various times this week, went AWOL. Serving at 4-2, he hammered one into the bottom of the net, sent one long at deuce, and put another into the net at break point. In the next game, Murray briefly looked like he might not get to Wimbledon at all. Trying to make a turn behind the baseline, he went down with a yelp. Silence reigned at Queen’s for a scary second. But, much like the soccer players he idolizes, Murray quickly left death’s door behind and was off the turf and running again a minute or two later. After the match, he said he had been cautious for a few games, but that he felt fine.

“I made some bad mistakes when I was up in the first set,” Murray said afterward, “like I had done in quite a few of the matches this week. But I kept trying to go for it. I was trying to take chances, and I felt like I was dictating a lot of the points.”

As he had against Tsonga, Murray tightened everything up with the match on the line. From 3-3 in the second set, he held at love three times—his serve started to click right on schedule—and came up with two very good backhand returns to break at 5-6. By the third set, Murray was flying. This time it was Cilic’s turn, while he was serving at 2-1, to watch his ground strokes go AWOL. And it was Murray’s turn to take advantage. His forehand was crisp again, and his backhand was even better. Murray fired one up the line for a winner to hold for 3-1, and came up with the shot of the tournament a couple of games later, a cross-court backhand pass hit on the dead run. Even the staid old Queen’s crowd had to get up for that one. Serving for the match at 5-3, Murray was still pounding them down at 132 M.P.H.

“I created a load of chances today,” Murray said. “I think with a few more matches and a few more days’ practice, I’ll do a better job converting them and won’t have the little slip-ups I had this week.”

So let’s return to my unwanted question from back in the first set: Is Murray the favorite for Wimbledon? Queen’s is an erratic predictor of success at its big brother event: Only twice in the last decade has a player won them both in the same season, Rafael Nadal in 2008 and Lleyton Hewitt in 2002. At the same time, though, multiple Queen’s winners such as McEnroe, Hewitt, Connors, Sampras, and Becker all won the Big W at least once—one notable exception was Murray’s coach, Lendl.

As far as his form goes, Murray’s right, he has been sloppy, sloppier than he can afford to be at a Grand Slam. His forehand has deserted him, his concentration has lapsed, and, as Tsonga and Cilic proved this weekend, his second serve is still a liability. They had little trouble running around it.

On the other hand, I don’t think Murray will have those concentration/confidence lapses at Wimbledon—if nothing else, the fortnight focuses him. His wins in the semis and the final at Queen's reminded me of the close, hard-fought, briefly nerve-wracking four-set wins that we see so often from the top seeds in the middle rounds at the Grand Slams. Murray has won his share of them at Wimbledon over the years, including two very good ones against Tsonga and David Ferrer in 2012. He had his ups and downs at Queen’s, but ups and downs are part of the deal in three-out-of-five-set matches. It’s how you recover from the downs that matters, and Murray did that well yesterday and today.

As is the case for every player, his serve will be at the crux of the matter. In his press conference today, Cilic credited that shot with helping Murray kick-start his comeback. Cilic also said that the Scot is “in the form” that could win Wimbledon. Not that Marin is counting anyone out, of course, including himself. This was a strong, resilient week of tennis from Cilic, and we may see him in one of those tight middle-round matches with a Top 4 seed in a couple weeks' time.

My colleague Richard Evans has made Murray his favorite for Wimbledon, based on his play on grass over the last year—finalist at Wimbledon, winner at the Olympics, winner at Queen’s. That’s all true, but also not a ton to go on. And it’s not like the rest of the Big 4 are exactly lagging. Roger Federer won his first event since August on grass in Halle today, Rafael Nadal has won seven titles in nine appearances in 2013, and Novak Djokovic is still No. 1 in the world. Of these three, Nadal might be the toughest ask for Murray, at least on paper. Unlike Federer and Djokovic, he’s never beaten Rafa on Centre Court. Murray has won just one set in their three grass matches, all of which were played at Wimbledon.

What does Murray himself say about his chances? He thinks he’s in similar form to years' past. “When Wimbledon comes around,” he said today, “it’s all about how you play. It’s easy to say someone is in good form when they’re not. A week is a long time in sport; anything can happen. But I’m in a good place, and I’ll just keep working hard the next week.”

One thing is certain: After this weekend, Muzz is in with a chance, as I think they like to say here. The British press can safely begin cranking up the hope machine once again. As for today, he made a worthy king of Queen’s. After the final, Murray played an exhibition to benefit the cancer foundation that has helped his friend and doubles partner, Ross Hutchins, in his battle with the disease. That also gave Murray a chance to fulfill a long-time fantasy of his: To drill his coach, Ivan Lendl, with a ball. Muzz made his dream come true with a forehand that pegged Lendl in the back. “I hit it so clean, so clean,” an obviously overjoyed Murray said later. He celebrated as if he had just won Wimbledon.

One dream down; another to come? Three Sundays from now, on a much larger Centre Court, could we be saying this of Andy Murray: "He celebrated like he had just nailed Ivan Lendl on the backside"?

Better Late Than Never

Sun, 16 Jun 2013 02:23:00 +0000

LONDON—Does there come a point for the British when the weather itself becomes life’s primary source of entertainment? That’s the way it felt through most of Saturday afternoon here. The rain came down, let up, came down, let up, and came down; the clouds gathered and broke up and gathered and broke up. The pattern lasted long enough to keep the players off the courts at Queen’s Club for four hours. By 3:00 P.M., all a journalist could do was Tweet updates about whether the covers had come off the grass or not. By 5:00, the sun had made its fashionably late arrival at last, the nets had been put back up, the ball kids and officials had taken their positions, and everything looked ready to go. Naturally, the clouds rolled back in one more time and let out a last blast of rain for the road. This time there were laughs from the audience.

It wasn’t as much fun for Lleyton Hewitt and Marin Cilic. Between raindrops, they had managed to get in two games and 15 minutes of play, and Hewitt had somehow hit five double faults in that time. Worse, when the skies finally cleared, the two were booted from the main stadium onto the much smaller Court 1 so that the home favorite, Andy Murray, could play in the bigger arena. Hewitt called this breach of tour policy—matches are supposed to finish on the courts where they start—“really, really strange” and said that “the ATP guy” who made the decision “panicked.” The tournament’s defense was that the other semifinal, between Murray and Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, would surely draw the bigger crowd. They said they couldn’t justify moving that match to a court which seats 6,000 fewer people—and also, not coincidentally, has far fewer TV cameras.

However it went down behind the scenes, there were suddenly two semifinals going on at the same time at Queen’s. For those of us in the press seats, which have a view of both courts, it was a head-snapping experience. It’s hard enough to keep track of every point in one match; forget about two. On a few occasions I succeeded in missing what happened on crucial points in both matches. Still, it felt like a reward for the long-suffering fans who had spent their Saturday staring at court covers.

As predicted, only a handful of those fans chose to watch Cilic and Hewitt. There seemed, at times, to be more people on Court 1 than there were in the bleachers. But one very vociferous and persistent Hewitt fan did make his presence felt. He celebrated every one of Rusty's winning points with a “Come on!” It was as if he wanted to save Hewitt the energy of having to do it himself.

The match was played in a suitably ornery spirit—put two frustrated, slighted players on a court without Hawk-Eye and you had a recipe either for a disaster, a highly entertaining evening of tennis, or both. Hewitt and Cilic did their best to oblige. Hewitt challenged chair umpire James Keothavong early and often, so often that when Keothavong overruled a call against Cilic, the normally placid Croat stormed forward and yelled, referring to Hewitt, “He’s putting pressure on you!”

Hewitt didn’t let that stop him. Later, he asked an elderly line judge, “Can you see?” and tossed a ball in Keothavong’s direction to show him that there was “Chalk on it, mate”—his shot, in other words, had been in, and Hewitt believed the line judge had botched another call. We had returned to the days of semifinals without replay.

“Obviously, it’s frustrating,” Hewitt said afterward. “We started on Centre Court where you have Hawk-Eye, and I feel like there were a couple of rough calls on Court 1. You’re in a semifinal and you feel like you have a couple of rough calls and you can’t challenge.”

After losing the first set and going up a break in the second, Hewitt called for the trainer and received an MTO. Cilic was left to try to stay warm in the waning light. When he lost the second set, it looked like his momentum was gone for good. But this week Cilic has shown more assertiveness and resilience than he has in the past. Winning shots have been punctuated with fist-pumps, as well as what I can only guess is the Croatian version of “Vamos!” He has also used his serve to bail him out of tough situations, and he did it again to turn the momentum back in his favor in the third set. When Cilic broke Hewitt, Rusty finally snapped, banging the ball as hard as he could off the wall behind him. Keothavong was probably lucky that’s the worst that happened.

Cilic, who recently split with longtime coach Bob Brett, will defend his title on Sunday—the good vibes from Queen’s have lasted 12 months for him. Hewitt, meanwhile, is happy with his progress heading toward Wimbledon. “I played great all week,” he said.

The main stadium, lit by late-day sunlight and shadow, felt idyllic by contrast. There Murray and Tsonga spun and curled their shots at each other to the delight of the packed house. They also challenged close calls at will; in fact, Murray challenged a little too often in the opening games, and had to forego one on a crucial point that he lost later on.

Murray and Tsonga spent some of their downtime today playing table football against each other; later, Murray claimed that he won, “Very comfortably.” But he couldn’t maintain his momentum from one sport to the next. Murray came out of the gates even more lethargically than Tsonga, a notorious slow starter. Murray struggled with his serve and forehand early, and appeared miffed by the proceedings in general. Part of that was Tsonga's doing. For the first set and a half, Jo took Murray out of his groove by playing the more muscular, dynamic game. He rifled his backhand down the line and controlled the front of the court. At 3-3 in the second set, it looked like Tsonga was going to win.

Murray, pushed to the brink, finally felt enough urgency to push back. He went down break point at 3-3, and missed his first serve. Tsonga, feeling good, ran around the second ball and had a good look at a forehand. He took a crack up the line, but didn’t quite hit it squarely. The ball floated, Murray took the initative, and eventually won the point with a stab drop volley. It was as if Murray couldn’t find the concentration and will to win until he was face to face with defeat. Once he did, he gave up just two more games. By the start of the third, it was Tsonga who had lost his concentration. At 1-1. he played a slack game, nonchalanting his way back for a Murray lob on one point, and sending a drop shot into the bottom of the net on another. He was broken at love and was never in the match again. As Murray found his game, Tsonga watched his own unravel. By the end, the best he could do was leap the net after failing to reach a drop shot.

It will be Murray vs. Cilic in the final; the Scot leads 8-1 in their head-to-head. Murray said today that, after his recent layoff, he’s happy with his play, even if he has been a “little bit inconsistent or played a couple of sloppy games” in most of his matches.

“I managed to find ways to win,” Murray said. And that’s true; today he raised his game at exactly the right moment. That’s a good sign as he heads toward Wimbledon. But Murray was also given a chance to raise his game today. You can’t always count on your opponent to shank a second serve return at break point with the match on the line.

Scenes from Queen's Club: Friday

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 04:32:00 +0000

The second in a series of daily photo-dispatches from Steve Tignor, who is currently at Queen's Club. All photos by Anita Aguilar.

Tennis can bring out expressions in players you might not expect. Here the famously fiery Lleyton Hewitt betrays hope, concern, apprehension. Thankfully, his shirt still says “Come on!”

And now Rusty and his shirt are in agreement.

Ryan Harrison tried to wake up doubles partner Sam Querrey from his apparent daze today, but it couldn't keep the Americans from losing their quarterfinal.

Harrison had his struggles at the net this afternoon. His game remains a work in progress; at the moment every match he plays feels like a referendum on his future.

Tomas Berdych showed off some underused leaping skills against Marin Cilic. From what I remember, this smash went into the net.

The now-famous Queen's ball girls are happy to pose for a shot.

Juan Martin del Potro lost for the second time to Hewitt on grass today, but he seemed happy for the man he once idolized.

Andy Murray, that most physically expressive of tennis players, shows off his confident side with a a topspin forehand...

...before plunging to the depths of despair a few minutes later.

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga served and smashed his way into the semifinals today.

It's been nice for him to have Queen's to help him forget about his Paris defeat and send him into the grass season.

Is Andy Murray fast enough to outrun his shadow? It's looks possible here.

Murray's older brother, Jamie, tried his best in doubles against the Bryan brothers today, but ended up losing a match tiebreaker 11-9. Adding insult to injury, he was hit with an overhead on match point, and then had to turn around and see the Bros in mid-chest bump.

Bob and Mike Bryan moved on to the semifinals at Queen's, a tournament they've won four times dating back to 2001.

Hewitt channeled Jimmy Connors today. At 32, he could become the oldest player to win at Queen's since Jimbo did it at age 30 in 1983. And much like Connors' son, Brett, once did, Hewitt's son Cruz followed him onto court today.

Grass, the Lost Civilization

Sat, 15 Jun 2013 00:00:00 +0000

LONDON—Lleyton Hewitt couldn’t have come up with a more appropriate shot to close out his quarterfinal win over Juan Martin del Potro today. Behind a skimming slice approach, the 32-year-old father of three moved in and knocked off what looked like the simplest of volleys. The ball came high to his forehand, and he did little more than put his racquet up and block it down the line. Del Potro had expected Hewitt to go cross-court, and like so many players on this slippery surface before him, he had no chance to reverse course once he’d been wrong-footed. Hewitt’s shot may have been simple, but it was also the intelligent choice of a longtime grass-court lover and expert.

I mention this shot not, primarily, to praise Rusty, though Friday was one of the finest of this four-time Queen’s champ’s periodic returns to glory. Instead, I mention his winning volley in order to praise the surface that Hewitt loves so much, and the subtle style of tennis that it can inspire, and require. Today’s performances by Hewitt and his fellow surprise semifinalist here, Marin Cilic, were enough to make me mourn the lost civilization of grass all over again.

Hewitt’s last winner could be described as a “control shot,” which is something we don’t see much of in tennis these days. At least we didn’t see many of them through the clay season that occupied us all spring. On dirt there are offensive, defensive, and touch shots; for the most part, all of them are hit with as much spin and racquet-head speed as possible. So this week it has come as a surprise to see the men at Queen’s mixing in balls that aren’t hit with maximum spin or speed or power. Grass gives you less time, and less predictability, than other surfaces; while its quality has improved over the years, you still never know when a ball will flat line, jump straight at you, or die in the weeds. If clay is exhausting from a stamina perspective, grass is draining from a watching-the-ball perspective. Especially on a windy day like today, you have to work a little harder to make contact in the right spot.

Yesterday on a swirling Court 2, Alexandr Dolgopolov, who has one of the most elaborate forehands of anyone, cried out in frustration that he had no idea where the ball was going to go next—his contact point could be anywhere on any given shot. In these cases a simple block, with nothing fancy on it, no extra spin or pace or grand ambitions, is often the smartest play. With the right placement, the grass can do the rest. These shots mostly go unnoticed on TV, but I’ve enjoyed seeing them up close at Queen’s. Even Dolgo adjusted and had success with simple slices and blocks down the middle of the court—until he imploded all over again because of an overrule.

Today it was Cilic and Hewitt who let the court help them the most. Cilic’s quarterfinal with Tomas Berdych was textbook modern grass tennis. It was played from the baseline, but with preemptive aggression. These two tall-ballers—each is 6’5” and not known for his speed—took the earliest openings possible. Depth was rewarded and anything short was punished. Serves didn’t need to clip the line to earn a free point; a nice, biting slice out wide in the deuce court was typically good enough. Cilic’s ground strokes, which often hang dully at mid-court, sped through instead. His finest moment, like Hewitt’s, came at the net. Late in the second set, Cilic held serve by approaching down the line and blocking a backhand volley down the line. It didn’t have much pace, and it didn’t cross the service line. Yet Berdych, despite some fine flailing and scrambling, couldn’t catch up to it. There was a pleasure in watching Cilic do exactly what was necessary and nothing more, a pleasure at least equivalent to watching another player win a point with a 100-M.P.H. forehand. Used properly, grass rewards restraint.

In this, as in other ways, it feels like a lost way of tennis life. There was a time when the modern game appeared to have passed grass by, but things have come full circle in the last decade. The sport is now at its most varied and dynamic when its played on a quick, slippery, easily torn lawn, a boutique surface used for just one month each season.

It’s a lost civilization that deserves to be revived and expanded, but if anything, my trip to Queen’s has made that harder for me to imagine. When Wimbledon announced last year that it was moving back a week starting in 2015, it had seemed possible that a Masters event on grass could be squeezed in after the French Open. Unfortunately, one of the few ready made locations for it would be Queen’s, but it’s difficult to see a venue this cramped, as charming as it is, handling an event that size.

Tennis, I’m afraid, will never get its Camden Yards, the retro stadium in Baltimore that gave baseball a visible and emotional link to its past, and whose sold-out crowds quickly inspired every city with a team to imitate it. Grass-court tennis doesn’t have to be a one-month nostalgia trip. The simple pleasure of a Lleyton Hewitt volley, and victory, proved it again today. Rust, and grass, never really get old.

******

Speaking of lost civilizations, I saw and heard another from my press seats in the stadium today. A few yards away, as Hewitt and del Potro ran each other around through the late afternoon, lunch was in full swing in the Queen's Club's dining room. This being the first sunny day here in some time, the festivities naturally spilled outdoors and into the stands in front of me. Pitchers of cocktails appeared and were passed from row to row and member to member. A young lady took her shoes off and let her hair down. The laughter grew louder all around. A woman to my left, watching del Potro chase down a Hewitt lob, told her husband with a giggle that he “looked like a blind giraffe.” In these quarters, this is what’s known as getting rowdy.

Soon, though, as 4:00 P.M. drew near, the laughter turned to a low hum of impatience. Hewitt and del Potro appeared to have worn out their welcome among a club member of two—after all, Andy Murray was supposed to be on now, right? As the second set drew to a close, another woman, to my right this time, said, “Oh, good, it’s almost time for tea.”

Her husband looked at her and smiled. “Well, there is one more set to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s two out of three sets.”

“Not for me, it isn’t. It’s time for tea.” A few seconds after del Potro had won the second set, she was up and bustling her way toward the club’s café.

For much of this match, four well-dressed, middle-aged men sat in front of me, sipping cocktails and bantering in a way that sounded highly urbane to my American ears. I assumed they were Queen’s members, and began to imagine their lives, their expensive cars and ski trips and...I don’t know what I imagined they did exactly, but I knew it had to be tremendous, and enviable. Why couldn't I have a life like that?

So it was with a good deal of surprise that, midway the third set, I watched as an usher walked up to their row and informed them that they had to leave. A short argument ensued, before the usher said, firmly, “I’m asking you to leave. Can I see your tickets?”

“We don’t have any,” one of the men blurted as they stood up to go. They had, from what I could tell, snuck in. It was the best thing I saw all day.

*****

Cilic Photo: Anita Aguilar

Scenes from Queen's Club: Thursday

Fri, 14 Jun 2013 01:08:00 +0000

The first in a series of daily photo-dispatches from Steve Tignor, who is currently at Queen's Club. All photos by Anita Aguilar.

Andy Murray had a banner day in his 2013 home-country debut. He won two matches and was the beneficiary of a rare sun sighting.

Juan Martin del Potro, ever the laid-back showman, was also a winner on Thursday, despite taking a tumble here.

Tomas Berdych wasn't sure about this call, but the big Czech, who says he's feeling good on grass right now, hammered his way through to the quarterfinals.

This ball girl may or may not be in mourning for a certain Bulgarian player who lost on Wednesday.

It's hard to believe Alexandr Dolgopolov can do this with his body on his serve. But it's not hard to believe that Dolgo suffered another upset today, this time at the hands of...

...Benjamin Becker, who advanced to face Andy Murray on Friday.

Feliciano Lopez was in a foul mood for most of his loss to Marin Cilic on Court 2 today. On this call, the lineswoman joined him in a yell.

Feli did get a good, hair-raising hit on this overhead, though.

Pippa Middleton is not impressed...

...and neither is her partner in green, Andy Murray, who shows off a trademark "something is in my bleeping eye" reaction to a lost point.

U.K. favorite Dan Evans, and his tattoo, fell to earth in a loss to del Potro.

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga won twice on Thursday, but says he doesn't want to make a habit of it. "I feel really bad," he admitted at the end of the day.

Two happy kids get an autograph from Andy Murray, while an even happier woman behind them prepares to double-fist two Queen's Club cocktails.

Juan Martin del Potro, who will play Lleyton Hewitt on Friday, gives thanks to his Sun God...

...while this fan takes cover from the sun as he looks forward to another match.

Royal Entrance

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 23:46:00 +0000

LONDON—“What’s so special about Baron’s Court then?”

That’s what the man with the gray ponytail in the ticket booth wanted to know. It was a fair question: I was at the Southwark tube station here, and I'd just told him that I needed to get to the Baron’s Court stop and back, each day for the next four days, and that I wouldn't need to go anywhere else in the city. This must have sounded like a highly irregular request from a tourist in London, because he eyed me as if I were from another planet, rather than just the planet known as America.

“I’m going to a tennis tournament,” I finally explained. Back in the States, this answer wouldn’t have helped me sound any less suspicious, but it seemed to satisfy him.

“Well, welcome to summer,” he answered with a gloomy smile. It wouldn't be the last time I heard those dour words from a local on this mostly cloudy, chilly, misty, sub-60 June afternoon.

But Baron’s Court, and a tennis tournament, it was—and will be for the rest of this week. For those tennis junkies who happen to be equipped with an elephant’s memory, the name might ring a bell. This is the tube stop just down the street from the Queen’s Club, a longtime nerve center of British tennis, and the one-time capital of the international amateur game. In the late 1960s and early 70s, it was here that the sport’s governing body, the ILTF (now the ITF), tried to hold off the forces of American professionalism represented by Texas oilman Lamar Hunt, who was trying to get his WCT Tour off the ground. In the view of the game’s traditionalists, Queen's and the All England Club were the temple, and Hunt and his tour were the money-changers who wanted to desecrate it—the fear at the time was that Hunt was going to take over the game entirely. The battle between the two sides was referred to by some British writers as “Baron’s Court vs. Dallas." The traditional, in other words, versus the tawdry.

Dallas and the money-changers would eventually tear down the temple walls, of course; four decades later, Queen's has been reduced to playing its own small part in the professional circus by staging a 250-level Wimbledon tune-up event every summer. The tournament’s mix of classic and commercial is obvious from the moment you get off the tube. You’re immediately hustled, with hundreds of other spectators, through the station and down the main artery of an otherwise quaint London neighborhood. Brick homes, small shops, and their many tiny chimneys are packed tightly along a narrow street. But it’s not so quaint that it can’t be swamped with advertising if need be. The trademark blue logo of Aegon, the life insurance company that sponsors all of the Wimbledon warm-ups, is visible throughout the area. Even the young usherettes who stand on the sidewalk and point the way to the club wear boat shoes colored Aegon blue.

Queen's at first glance looks like a Wimbledon for urbanites. There’s a lot less room—the club is hemmed in by apartment buildings on all sides—and a little more style. Or what Americans would call preppy style: Suits and blazers, bright ties and brighter skirts, pink socks, skinny-making jeans, and expensive sunglasses propped up on graying foreheads. Also, one conspicuous green dress, belonging to Pippa Middleton. She walked in, to the craning of many necks, during Andy Murray’s first match. A style trooper all the way, she braved the cold wind without covering up.

Inside the dark brick clubhouse at Queen's, tradition still rules. Its labyrinthine hallways and staircases have something of a Downton Abbey feel. The club’s blazer-wearing members play the role of the Crawley family, while the rest of us jeans-wearers spend the week slaving away in the servant’s quarters that surround them. Member and worker: Never, hopefully, the twain shall meet. Each walks his own hallways, drinks at his own bars, enters and exits his own bathrooms, and grazes at his own tables. Members dine at the club’s elegant central restaurant, just above the stadium court. The press stuffs its collective face in the loud and crowded Buttery in the back while sitting five to a table. I half expect a black-suited Carson to stride in with a huff of disgust and call everyone to order.

In the amateur days, the players were on the worker’s side of this divide. Now that they’re multimillionaires, it’s hard to say where they stand. They form a sort of second, equally sequestered elite. But the the club’s business doesn’t stop for them. Queen's, which was founded in 1886 (it was named for Victoria, not Elizabeth II), is home to every possible racquet sport, the more ancient and esoteric the better, and they continue to be played even as the pros take over what are still known as the lawn tennis courts.

While Andy Murray was beating Nicolas Mahut on Thursday morning, I walked in from the stadium, made a wrong turn, and stumbled onto a hotly contested court tennis match between two middle-aged men. Member and worker: Never the twain shall meet. Except when they accidentally do. I made a second wrong turn later and ended up barging through a door marked “Gentleman’s Dressing Room—Members Only.” Inside, heads turned and eyes narrowed; who was this tie-less interloper? After mumbling my apologies, I beat a hasty retreat. I’ll have to take solace in the fact that club has been forced to shut down one of its squash courts for the tournament and turn it into our media room.

There’s no question who the lord of the manor here is at the moment. The fans came out for Andy Murray today, and he didn't disappoint; the Hulky green sleeves on his Adidas shirt were even something of a match for Pippa’s dress. Rain had held Murray’s second-rounder with Nicolas Mahut over from yesterday, with the Brit up a set. On paper, No. 2 vs. No. 224 was a mismatch, but the announcer who did the introductions was properly polite about it. After running through the litany of Murray’s career achievements, he finally came to Mahut. Rather than bring up his ranking, he told the crowd cheerfully, “He can be trouble on grass!”

And he can be—Mahut is a former finalist here who, slicing and diving with abandon, pushed Murray to a tiebreaker in the second set. Muzz was annoyed enough that, after making two consecutive errors at one stage, he put his tongue in his cheek and gave his player’s box, which included Ivan Lendl, a death glare. No one glared back; his coaches and trainers stared down at their feet or up at the sky. Murray was more royal than normal in this setting. When he wanted a towel from the ball kids, he again put his tongue in his cheek and pointed his finger in their direction, like a rock star picking out a groupie from the audience. A couple of times the kid didn't take the cue, and Murray was forced to repeat the gesture, with the same nonchalance all over again.

The top-seeded Murray did his part and won two matches today, as did the tournament’s No. 2, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. But it wasn't easy for Jo. In his first one, he was pushed deep into a three-setter by countryman Edouard Roger-Vasselin. For me, their match was a welcome back to grass-court tennis after two months of clay. The silence is the first thing you notice. There are no sneakers squeaking or grinding up the surface, as they do on hard courts and clay. There are also no shouts of “Allez Jo!” from the audience, either. The Brits clap, nothing more, nothing less, for everything.

The next thing you notice is how much tougher it is to defend on this surface. That used to be an obvious statement, until scrambling baseliners like Rafael Nadal, Novak Djokovic, and Lleyton Hewitt began to win Wimbledon. But it’s still true at Queen's today. The ball skips forward, often erratically, on the still-green grass—it’s hard to say why a certain ball won’t come up, but it happens roughly once a game. Depth, more than anything else, is key. Passing shots are difficult, not because the approach shot is moving too fast, but because each player must run for the ball and take a swing, while also keeping himself from slipping. This means running fast, but also taking enough tiny steps to slow down immediately. Not surprisingly, winning passing shots are rare. All-court tennis still has its rewards on grass.

Or does it? I watched this match from a favored perch in the press seats, where you can see all three courts at once. In the distance, I caught Lleyton Hewitt and Sam Querrey playing a traditional all-baseline contest at the same time. Their long rallies made them look like they could be on any hard court in the world. Perhaps now it's grass that rewards the widest variety of styles and shots.

Hewitt, as fired up as ever, won in three. Afterward, he was asked what it is about the court that suits his game.

“Over the years I grew to love it,” says Rusty, who will play Juan Martin del Potro tomorrow. “It’s no doubt my favorite surface. I’ve always moved well on grass, which is a massive thing. I’ve always had a positive attitude towards it as well, which is huge, to go out and be positive playing on the surface.”

The 32-year-old Hewitt, his competitive fire still boiling, kicked up the only real spark of energy on this gray day. His hat was still turned backward after all these years, which may have made him the least posh-looking person at the club. Yet he managed to win the crowd over.

Member and worker: In Hewitt, and all the players who will take to Queen's Club's stadium court for the quarterfinals on Friday, the twain must meet.

A Shot Heard Round the World

Thu, 13 Jun 2013 17:22:00 +0000

It may pain fans of Roger Federer’s elegant, classic game, but the enduring image of this particular time in tennis probably will be that of Rafael Nadal, having backpedalled all the way into his backhand corner, striking a vicious inside-out forehand that rockets past his opponent—no matter how far back or out of position Rafa is.

The shot lands for a clean winner for a good reason that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with Nadal’s power, or his opponent’s defensive skills (or lack thereof). For Nadal’s opponent can’t concede the down-the-line shot—in reality, the “inside-in” forehand—by anticipating the inside-out, because Nadal can hook that inside-in savagely, and the distance that shot has to travel is much shorter, which effectively takes time away from the opponent.

As far as Nadal goes, this is Tennis 101. But I dwell on the details because it wasn’t that long ago that this tactic was nearly unheard of. Players once chose to “run around the backhand” mainly to protect that weaker wing, and that tactic is as old as the hills. Interestingly, at one time it was much more common in the rec game, simply because you could only do so much to hide the backhand at the pro level. But today, players step around the backhand as a strategy—as a means of employing the signature shot of this era, the power forehand. And they build entire games around it.

The evolution of strategy, tactics, and technique is never entirely cut-and-dried, and it doesn’t happen in the blink of an eye. But if you count a decade as the equivalent of a generation (that’s more or less the productive period of any player), the inside-out forehand is barely one generation old. While Ivan Lendl and Jim Courier were pioneers of the shot, their peers (think John McEnroe and Pete Sampras, respectively) didn’t embrace the technique, and not just because they had adequate backhands. (Sampras in particular had a wonderful forehand that he chose to employ in a traditional way.) It was a matter of mindset.

Ironically, the road that led to the current infatuation with the inside-out forehand probably didn’t begin on clay. It took shape back in the mid-1980s, well before Wimbledon slowed down the grass, when the powers-that-be decided that spectators were more interested in watching rallies than serving exhibitions, or even the serve-and-volley duels that so many sentimental fans recall so fondly today.

At the time, the U.S. was still the dominant force in the game in tennis, and it hosted a much larger share of significant events. Thus, the hard-court game conspicuously overshadowed clay-court tennis, if not the granddaddy of them all, Wimbledon’s annual grass-court shootout. It was the slowing of the hard courts that spelled the death knell for the well-balanced, classic game, as well as serve-and-volley tennis.

In this, Nick Bollettieri’s eponymous tennis academy played a leading role. It’s no accident that Courier, who’s as close as you can come to the “godfather of the inside-out forehand,” was a Bollettieri protégé. What’s even more significant is that countless dozens of players from all over the world lived the Bollettieri experience, and many of those who didn’t go on to have pro careers became de facto proponents of the sensibility.

The renaissance of the French Open in the 1980s and the more recent rise of the European clay-court circuit accelerated this ongoing process. Two other factors that played into the trend were the decline of fast indoor carpet in favor of indoor hard courts, and the well-publicized slowing of Wimbledon’s grass. As we approached the present-day surface uniformity, it became pretty clear—if not always acknowledged or stated—that if all conditions are equal there must be a preferred style, even if the nature of the game and the role of the psyche in success ensured there would always be outliers.

Given that the forehand is generally the stronger side for any player, it became the shot on which most players built their games. It used to be that teaching pros preached well-roundedness, but as traditional surfaces slowed and attacking tennis (serve-and-volley) died, the essential wisdom of attacking, and the desire to attack, were impulses more or less forced underground—channeled into this increasing tendency to build not just a game but a winning strategy and offensive capability into the forehand.

We haven’t arrived at quite the same point in the women’s game, probably for the same reason that the serve never played a towering role, either (until Serena Williams came around). Most women just don’t generate enough power to overwhelm with a single shot. But I can see that changing over the coming years, if Williams and Maria Sharapova are the models.

In any event, once players began to load up on the forehand, the beauty of the inside-out shot combined with the inside-in option became obvious—and irresistible. It also underscores how much more adaptable the forehand is than the backhand. Can you imagine building a game plan on directional play with the backhand?

The ultimate result and personification of these ideas and trends is Nadal; it’s almost like he’s a caricature created to illustrate the value of a game anchored in a savage forehand and backed-up by great strength and fitness. History has shown us that certain men seem to have been created expressly to master the challenges of their times—think Winston Churchill, or Martin Luther King Jr.—and it’s that way in sports, too. And that helps explain the success those men and women experience, and why they come to be seen as representative.

As for Federer, don’t worry about that old campaigner. While the Wimbledon grass has been slowed down, the defending champion’s game is particularly well-suited to the turf. Wimbledon is still the event at which surface and a player’s ability (or lack thereof) to adapt can prove useful—or detrimental. But we’ll leave that for another time. Let’s just say that while Roger is more old-school than his pal Rafa, he’s still got a pretty wicked inside-out forehand himself.

Afterthoughts

Wed, 12 Jun 2013 16:50:00 +0000

John McEnroe and I were on the same flight back from Paris to New York, and we chatted at the baggage claim area while waiting for our stuff. Like everyone else, McEnroe was first and foremost amazed by the powers of Rafael Nadal. But the thing that got him really animated was the men’s semifinal scheduling. “It was terrible, inexcusable,” he said, and I wholeheartedly agreed with him.

Once again, the operative word was “buzzkill,” even if Nadal and his co-star that day, Novak Djokovic, escaped most of the damage. Yet even they couldn’t have been thrilled to start their match at 1 p.m. local time (7 a.m. EST in the U.S.) because of the corporate village crowd’s love of the long, leisurely lunch. As a result, almost the entire lower half of Court Philippe Chatrier was empty at the start of the semis, and while a good crowd had formed by about the mid-point of the second set, worse was yet to come.

Owing to the quality and length of the match, which Nadal won in four-and-a-half hours, 9-7 in the fifth, the crowd had absolutely nothing left for Frenchman Jo-Wilfried Tsonga’s clash with David Ferrer. No need to delve into the details; let’s just say Ferrer crushed Tsonga before a sparse crowd in barely two hours, while laboring under a blanket of anti-climax as heavy as wool felt. It was a terrible injustice to Tsonga, and the French public in general.

It was also about the only off-key note in an otherwise outstanding French Open for the men, a tournament short on resounding upsets but long on high-quality, close matches—including the only two headline-generating upsets, Gael Monfils’ win over No. 5 Tomas Berdych, and Tsonga’s win over Roger Federer. That those two wins were created by French players in their home major only made them appear sweeter, but let’s be honest—Monfils had no business being unseeded; he’s a Top 10 player who’s had to deal with injuries and who may be mired on one of those “to be or not to be?” slumps.

Apart from Nadal, the biggest newsmakers probably were the two 30-plus year old Tommys—Haas and Robredo. That both of them made it to the quarterfinals was astonishing, and who would have guessed that at age 31, Robredo could rebound from two sets down to win, three consecutive times? He became the first man to do that in 86 years.

Well, 35-year-old Haas might have predicted that; he knows better than anyone that age is just a number. His own high-water mark at the tournament was a 10-8 in-the-fifth win over marathon man John Isner. Haas wasted 12 match points against Isner, although the towering American’s serve helps account for that cringe-worthy stat. But in the end, Haas did win it. The percentage conversion rate doesn’t mean much; I’m sure most players would happily blow 20 match points as long as they knew they would convert just one.

At any rate, I sure hope some exhibition promoter is busy trying to put together a Haas-Robredo exhibition series; they could bill it as the “Jurassic Tour,” and maybe even convince The Who to open each match with a mini-concert.

Haas and Robredo weren’t just beneficiaries of the draw gods, either, although it certainly helped the Spaniard that Monfils had knocked off Berdych in the first round. Ultimately, Ferrer ended Robredo’s run, and Djokovic stopped Haas in his tracks just as decisively.

Speaking of Monfils, the French men acquitted themselves well on the whole. No. 7 Richard Gasquet failed to make his seed, but only by a whisker. In one of the most exciting matches of the tournament, “Ree-shard” of the out-of-control backhand lost, 8-6 in the fifth, to No. 9 Stan Wawrinka in the fourth round. Gilles Simon pushed Federer to five sets, while Monfils, Jeremy Chardy, Julien Benneteau, and Benoit Paire all reached the third round.

And speaking of Paire, he was one of three members of the headcase brigade—along with Grigor Dimitrov and Fabio Fognini—who made the third round, while fellow member Ernests “I’m better than all these guys!” Gulbis fell one stage earlier. It’s some kind of moral victory for the group that not one of them suffered a bad loss. Paire was put out by No. 13 Kei Nishikori, who’s always a tough out. Dimitrov, likewise, faced—and failed—the Djokovic test at that same stage. Fognini thrilled the crowd with his shotmaking and dramatic flair while flaming out in straights against Nadal, and Gulbis was ousted in the second round by Monfils.

Once again, the American men did little, although Isner was one swing of the stick away from making the fourth round. His pal Sam Querrey, the only other American man to get as far as he did, acquitted himself pretty well in a five-set loss to Simon. As far as U.S. players went, this tournament belonged to the women, who put four in the fourth round, led by the eventual champ, Serena Williams (the other three were Bethanie Mattek-Sands, Jamie Hampton, and Sloane Stephens).

Let’s amend that: The American men did little in singles. In doubles, the top-seeded team of Mike and Bob Bryan won the tournament, becoming the first team in history to win each Grand Slam title at least twice (they now have 14 majors). Like their countrywoman Williams, they had a long drought between French Open titles—11 years for Williams, a solid decade for the Bryans. “This is the first one we won back in the day and kind of launched our career,” Mike Bryan said. “This is the toughest Slam to win, I think. Clay is an equaliser and makes a lot of teams better.”

The doubles final against the surprise French team of Michael Llodra and Nicolas Mahut was terrific. When the Americans finally won, 6-4, 4-6, 7-6 (4) —after being down 2-4 in the match-ending tiebreaker—Mahut broke down in tears on the sideline, and cried most of the way through the trophy presentation. For the second time in his life, this journeyman had experienced something grand and special, and for the second time he came up short (you’ll remember he was across the net from Isner in the record-breaking 70-68 match at Wimbledon a few years back).

The Bryans are on fire this year—they’ve won seven titles, including both Grand Slam events. They’ve now targeted the “Golden Bryans Slam,” because they won gold at the Olympic Games and U.S. Open last year, so a win at Wimbledon would make them the title holders at all four majors, plus the Olympics.

Doubles may not get all the attention it deserves, but these two guys are special. Don’t miss catching them at least once before the 35-year-olds begin to lose their touch.

The Inevitables

Mon, 10 Jun 2013 18:04:00 +0000

We’ve had the Persistents and the Dominants: What’s the best co-word to describe Rafael Nadal and Serena Williams now? The Inescapables? The Undeniables? The Irresistibles? The Inevitables*? The Amazins? All of them apply: This weekend Rafa and Serena each made good on their pre-tournament favorite status and wrapped up the clay season with a fitting image. She had the French Open winner’s trophy over her head, and he had it between his teeth.

Before we make the brisk shift to grass—actually, it’s being made in Queens and Halle as I write this—here’s a look back at a few of the memorable performances from the last two weeks in Paris. It wasn’t, in case you’ve forgotten, all about Rafa-Rena.

As always, though, I can’t get to everyone. If you see someone you think deserves a grade, go for it.

*****

Serena Williams

Serena 1.0 peaked in 2004, when she was 22 years old and won four consecutive major titles. Serena 2.0, the 31-year-old version, reached another peak with her win at Roland Garros. In recent years, she has switched strings, switched coaches, and partially switched countries. Her win in Paris makes sense; that’s where she's trained for the last year, and you can see the changes and improvements in her game. She plays with controlled power now, and balances pace with consistency. She’s a more polished, and ultimately better, version, of the women who won the Serena Slam nine years ago. The last time a player was so far ahead of the field was Roger Federer in 2004-’05. But Serena still had one person left to conquer in Paris: Herself. She won this one from that most nerve-wracking of positions, that of the Overwhelming Favorite—anything but a title would have been a disaster. At the moment, only Serena can stop herself. A+

Rafael Nadal

Would Nadal’s comeback have been “complete” had he not won the French Open? Yes, even without this capstone, his return has gone better than anyone, including himself, could have imagined. Rafa should take seven months off more often; no one finds as much inspiration from the low moments, or creates as many high moments out of them. Now he’s back at an all-time peak, with his 12th major, record eighth French Open, seven wins in nine events in 2013, and a spot in London already clinched. Maybe someday he’ll get his ranking inside the Top 4.

In January we wondered whether Nadal would ever be the same; now we wonder how many French Opens he can win—11, 12, there seems to be no end in sight. Even at 27 and with his knees as they are, it appears that he’ll be a major factor at the top of the sport for years to come. We talk about Federer’s continued love for the game after 30; I think it’s a safe bet that Rafa will feel the same way. His eighth title at Roland Garros was more emotional than his first. As for the immediate future, Nadal got an important win over Novak Djokovic and raised his game higher in the final, as champs are supposed to do. He even played with his beloved “colm” when the French came after him with fire. But that’s old hat for Nadal by now. Rafa has been defying the tennis fans of Paris for nearly a decade. A+

Maria Sharapova

Was her 6-4, 6-4 loss to Serena a good or a bad sign? On the one hand, she played about as well as she can against Serena, and held her own the whole way. On the other, that wasn’t enough to get her a set. A smiling Sharapova took the positives from it, of course, and she should. Even if she didn’t find a way to play better than Serena, she found a way, with her deep ground strokes, to play with her. As a whole, her Paris title defense may also point to a new long-term consistency. This was the first time she had reached the final of a major that she won the previous year. And with her restrained but sincere concession speech, she remains a model of professionalism in defeat. A

David Ferrer

Daveed said he was nervous for the final, and that he didn’t show us his best. He was right; he played Nadal much closer in Madrid and Rome. Otherwise, Ferrer did what he was supposed to do. While he only faced one player in the Top 20, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, Ferrer didn’t drop a set to any of them. Like Serena Williams, he’s playing his best tennis, and breaking new ground, at 31. Bonus points for his usual humility; there’s nothing fake or forced about it with Ferru. Double bonus points for bringing his parents, who are normally too nervous to watch in person. There was nothing old-hat about their reaction to seeing their son in a Grand Slam final. A

Novak Djokovic

This must be one of Djokovic’s toughest defeats, for at least three reasons. He had made Roland Garros his biggest goal for the year. He had been chasing Nadal here since 2006, when he had pronounced him “beatable” after their first match. And he was inspired by the memory of his late coach Jelena Gencic, who passed away during the event. Novak was just a few points from beating Rafa in a fifth set and most likely winning the tournament when...he ran into the net. Still, that net aside, he’s moving in the right direction. Last year he won a set from Nadal at Roland Garros for the first time. This year he won two. Someday he’s going to win three. A-

Victoria Azarenka

As with Maria, you can look at Vika’s tournament two ways. By making the semis, she advanced farther at Roland Garros than she had before. But when she got there, she lost her second straight match to her rival for No. 2, Sharapova. By the end of that one, Vika didn’t look, or sound, all that pleased. A-

Tommy Robredo

The game was as smooth as we remembered, but the grit and the emotion were something new for many of us. A run to be remembered. A-

Tommy Haas

What is this, Tommy 9.0 or so? He must be nearing the end of his nine tennis lives by now. But he’s not there yet, as he proved by beating John Isner on his 13th match point and hanging tough with Djokovic in the quarters. A-

Svetlana Kuznetsova

Predictably unpredictable, the former French champ came out of nowhere again to remind us what she can do. That is, hit with, and almost beat, Serena Williams. It will likely be forgotten, but she was a point away from being up 3-0 in the third set on her in the quarters. Is this a sign of things to come for Sveta? I’m not betting on it. B+

Jelena Jankovic

As with Robredo, it was nice to see this veteran’s game back near its best. The fluid movement, the down-the-line elan, the running commentary—she’s still a character at 28. In this age of the aged, maybe she can still be a threat, too. B+

The American Women

Four of 16 spots in the fourth round isn’t bad for a U.S. women’s contingent in Paris. Sloane Stephens reminded us why we believed in her; Jamie Hampton had a career-best win over Petra Kvitova; and, aside from Serena, Bethanie Mattek-Sands might have played the best tennis of all of them in her upset of 2011 champ Li Na. Which brings up a new and unexpected question: Can the Americans win on hard courts? B+

Gael Monfils

In a tournament of comebacks, his was the most dramatic of all. From Andy Murray on down, the tennis world remembered what we loved about La Monf. And why, when he had lost to Robredo after holding four match points, he can be so hard to love. B+

Stan Wawrinka/Richard Gasquet

With one-handers blazing over five flat-out sets, they gave us the second-best match of the tournament, and one of the best of the year so far. B+

Dinah Pfizenmaier

The young German, who lost to Radwanska in the third round, is a heavy-hitter to watch. B

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga

We were ready to believe. Jo showed as much confidence and poise as he ever has in dismissing Federer in straight sets in the quarters. Then all of the issues—with calls, with consistency, with pressure, even with shadows and noisy fans—resurfaced against Ferrer in the semis. “Today I’m the loser,” Jo said, with no understatement. B-

Roger Federer

The good news is that Federer reached his 36th straight Grand Slam quarterfinal, so he’s still not losing to players he hasn’t lost to before at these events. The bad news is that, for the first time, it felt like Tsonga was the favorite against him. Federer didn’t do anything to persuade us otherwise. C+

Ernests Gulbis

Monfils, and the crowd, were a tough second-round draw. Off-court, Gulbis criticized the Big 4 for being boring, which was wrong. But he may have accidentally done them a favor in the process: Now, if and when they speak out on a topic, we can say, “See, at least they’re not boring.” As for Ernie himself, I hope to see and hear more from him. C+

*****

*Hat tip to Kristy at Overhead Smash.

Freedom Fried

Mon, 10 Jun 2013 11:56:00 +0000

PARIS—Serena Williams has gone through a lot, and a lot that wasn’t welcome, since she last won Roland Garros, 11 long years ago. But perhaps nothing she’s done short of winning 16 Grand Slam titles seems as unlikely as her transformation into a Francophile. Apart from any other benefit, this passion for French-ness surely played some role in her victory in the French Open final over Maria Sharapova on Saturday.

That win seems to me one of the great accomplishments of her career, at least when you factor in elements like her age (and I don’t care what anyone says about fitness and longevity, there’s absolutely no substitute for the sheer desire, intensity, and determination of a 23-year old), the quality of her opponent (Sharapova was the defending champ, and she dominates the WTA gulag as thoroughly as she is dominated by Serena), the surface (red clay), and Serena’s own history of heartbreak Roland Garros.

When Serena first won here in 2002, she was still a shy, watchful 20-year old, peering out at the world through the translucent wall of the family cocoon. As a prodigy without portfolio (she took part in very few junior events, but was well-known in tennis circles in spite of that), she had known little but the daily grind of practice , rest, and practice. She grew up in Compton. Ca., and moved to Palm Beach Gardens, Fla., not exactly a humming hive of civilization. In fact, she lived in a family compound , although I imagine that having Richard Williams seated at the head of the table every night expanded her horizons well beyond conventional ideas and pre-occupations.

How many other athletes with anything like Serena’s life experience (and I’m talking about the Michael Jordans, Peyton Mannings, and Sidney Crosbys of this world) have grown as much? And frankly, I don’t care how limited Serena’s French vocabulary is, or how unfamiliar she is with the Metro system or the bouquinistes along the Seine. The main thing is that she tries. She takes her shot. She learns, sometimes having to do it with us watching. That takes courage.

Wouldn’t it be awfully easy for her to stay cloistered in some Los Angeles mansion, or Miami Beach penthouse, venturing out only to collect her trophies or hit the nightclubs?

After the press interviews yesterday, Serena told a small group of us about her love affair with Paris. She has an apartment here, “A small apartment, about the size 3 of these (tiny interview) rooms. But it’s very cute.” She’s proud of having decorated it herself, venturing out to markets and shops to find all the furnishings for the place. “I used a lot of warm and comfortable colors. I actually thought of joining Venus and VStarr because I did such a good job with my apartment.”

One reason she loves Paris is that she can walk the streets without being accosted quite as often as in the USA. She likes her freedom, but it got fried by her fame back in the states. She was amused to learn that her apartment turns out to be near an American college, where she’s both recognized and unable to escape her native tongue.

“Obviously, I love Americans,” she said. “But it’s like when I’m in France I just want to surround myself by French and I end up speaking English all the time because everyone around me is American. I end up seeing a lot of people who want to take a picture with me. I also avoid the Champs-Élysées because there’s too many tourists there.”

But it’s not like Serena spends her time dashing around Paris, visiting museums or boutiques — especially during the French Open. She can’t resist the nearby bakeries (“Why do they have so many of them, so close to me?”), and there’s a Starbucks near the flat. She admits that’s awfully convenient. Like the college, it’s a sometime pleasant reminder of home.

But by and large, she says, she’s a bit of a shut-in. Indulging in some by-now familiar Williams hyperbole, she says: “I never leave my place. I stay there, and I just got into 'Grimm', a TV series. It’s excellent so I’ve watched the whole first season the past two weeks and I am halfway through the second season. And usually I watch a few episodes of that and I get a little treatment. I literally never leave. We have security guards outside and I don't know why because I never leave my place.”

If that sounds a lot like a line out of the that old Joe Walsh classic, "Life’s Been Good to me, So Far." So be it.

It’s also hard to gauge how much of Serena’s new found love of Gallic ways owes to Patrick Mouratoglou, who’s is pretty much acknowledged around the game as her coach-plus. He’s been coy about the exact nature of their relationship — intentionally and happily so, say those who suspect his character. And nobody has put the question to Serena directly. Does it really matter, though?

The very greatest of champions have a knack for organizing their lives in ways that really enhance their chances for success. You’d call them shameless, if this laser-like homing on self-interest were a calculated act. It isn’t, though, it’s second nature, and one of the things that makes them different from you and I, and even most of their talented peers.

Lest your cynicism get the better of you, it was interesting to hear Serena’s reply when she was asked when she remembers first hearing the French language. “That’s a good question. I have no idea.” She paused, then added, “I do remember Jim Courier giving his speech in French and I remember I said I want to give my speech in French, too.”

It was a somewhat surprising reaction that could not have been invented. Her childish dream came true, and life’s been good to Serena — more or less — so far.

Roland Garros: Nadal d. Ferrer

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 20:19:00 +0000

Few of us expected fireworks in the French Open final between Rafael Nadal and David Ferrer, but we gladly could have done without the ones that appeared at the end of the second set. What had been a routine, one-sided match suddenly turned frightening, as two shirtless, flare-carrying anti-gay marriage protester-idiots stormed the court and headed in Nadal’s direction. French security quickly bundled and body-slammed them off the court; thankfully we didn't have to see what they had in store for Rafa and the rest of the world. But a creepy chill settled over Court Philippe Chatrier, and it would stay there for the rest of the match.

Otherwise, this was even less of a contest than had been predicted. Nadal had his serve broken in the first set and survived four break points at 3-1 in the second, but that was as much resistance as Ferrer could muster. In their previous two matches, in Madrid and Rome, Ferrer had taken a set and forced Nadal to dig deep, but not this time. Even more than usual, Rafa looked for his forehand, and he dominated with it. After a 3rd-gear first set, he raised his level of play to its absolute highest at the start of the second, stringing together a brilliant and varied series of dive-bombing ground strokes to make it 3-0. Nadal finished with 35 winners against 25 errors, a more than respectable ratio on a rainy day. Who says he can’t hit through heavy conditions?

Ferrer’s last stand came when he earned four break chances with Nadal serving at 3-1 in the second. On the last of them, the two ripped and ran through a 29-shot rally, one which Ferrer controlled until the 28th. Just as he had on a big point in their match in Madrid, Ferrer took a short ball and, rather than hit it into the open court, tried to go behind Rafa. Just as he had in Madrid, Rafa stayed home, and was ready with a winning backhand pass. As always, he was one step, and one thought, ahead of his countryman.

Last month in Rome, Nadal beat Roger Federer for the 20th time. Two days ago, he beat Novak Djokovic for the 20th time. Today he did the same to Ferrer, 6-3, 6-2, 6-3, running their career head-to-head to 20-4. Ferrer tried to grind out long rallies, and when that didn't work he tried to take control of points with his own forehand. But he had precious few short-ball opportunities from Rafa. Ferrer finished with 22 winners against 35 errors. More than a few of those errors came on break points; he converted just three of 12. As he said afterward, "I was a little bit nervous...I didn't play too good."

Nadal wins his eighth title at Roland Garros, a record for any man at any Grand Slam in the Open era. It also serves an exclamation point on what has been a remarkable comeback—he has reached the finals of all nine events he has played in 2013, and won seven of them. He’s also, despite having missed the Australian Open, the first man to qualify for the year-end championships in London.

Rain, injury, time away; Djokovic, Ferrer, even a couple of morons carrying fire—no one can take Paris from Nadal.

The Warrior, Reborn

Sun, 09 Jun 2013 19:41:00 +0000

PARIS—A fisherman himself, Rafael Nadal knows that you have to play even a small fish carefully. Thus, there was little chance that David Ferrer, his opponent in the French Open final, would break the line and get away with the glittering lure they struggled over — the French Open men’s singles title. Showing the familiar strong but sensitive hand, Nadal reeled in Ferrer 6-3, 6-2, 6-3 in two hours and 16 minutes, and experienced the satisfaction of someone whose catch is a lot larger than he might have thought.

For with this win, Nadal wrote a new chapter in the record books, becoming the first man to win the same Grand Slam event eight times, and he also tied for third on the all-time list of Grand Slam champions. Both he and Roy Emerson have 12 major singles titles.

“The feeling on court was a great.” Nadal said afterward. “I think the score is much easier than what the match is today. I think for moments I played great; I think few moments in the match I played at very, very high level. It’s a very happy, very emotional, very important victory for me.

“Five months ago nobody of my team dreamed about a comeback like this because we thought that it’s going to be impossible. But here we are today, and that's really fantastic and incredible. I’m just enjoying a lot all these emotions since I came back.”

The atmosphere on Court Philippe Chatrier on this cold, damp day was gloomy as the players entered, more fit for the public execution that this turned out to be. And while we all know that Nadal brings his own sunshine to this particular court each time he sets foot on it, we also know that he would have preferred to meet Ferrer on a drier, faster court that might neutralize the “Little Beast’s” counter-punching abilities.

Is there anything more awkward than the pre-match photo at the net, the two players standing side-by-side, but stiff and with just enough distance between their shoulders to make you wonder if each thought the other had contracted the plague. Given what great friends Nadal and Ferrer are, the posture they struck before either of them even waved at a ball, or shouted,“Vamos,” spoke volumes.

Ferrer had obvious, excellent reasons to approach this, his first Grand Slam final, with trepidation. His pal Rafa was not just the defending champ, but the odds-on favorite, and more than one record was at stake. If Nadal won, he would also break a deadlock with Guillermo Vilas and Roger Federer for most career wins at Roland Garros (they all had 58 as of this morning).

Gulp. Did bait ever taste so bad?

Ferrrer has bagged 20 ATP titles, but none when three or more of the reigning “Big Four” (three of whom played here) were entered. Ferrer was 4-19 against Nadal going into the match, on the threshold of joining the excellent company of Federer and Novak Djokovic as men Nadal has beaten at least 20 times in his career. And while Nadal loves to play in the heat and sun, Ferrer had his own reasons for hoping for those conditions. He resolved, conditions permitting, to play more aggressively, and take advantages of opportunities to take the net.

“Today the court was slower,” he said afterward. “Was raining and is very difficult for to do winners. It's more difficult to beat Rafael when the court is slower. He has more power than me with his shots.”

Nadal’s anxieties are more easily explained with what amounts to the most elegant repudiation of statistics in sports history, his own near-paranoid conviction that he could lose to anybody, anytime — history and bolo forehands be damned. He’s got a personality perfectly capable of interpreting his brilliant semifinal win over Novak Djokovic as a warning sign: What if he peaked too early? What if he had an emotional letdown after that one? What if, what if?

The young man is downright fearful, as Ferrer pointed out to us after the match, when commenting on the protesters who interrupted the match in the second set. One of them, naked from the waist up and wearing a creepy white mask, leaped onto the court near Nadal holding aloft a sizzling orange flare.

After shrugging off the incident and insisting it didn’t booger his focus, Ferrer said, “Today was strange, no? The people singing (two chanting protesters), one person without clothes in the court, with one bengalas (flare). . . Rafael, he was scared a little bit.” Everyone in the room joined Ferrer in laughing about that, but then Ferrer was at the far end of the court when all that happened so it was easy for him to say.

By that point in the proceedings, though, Ferrer was sinking into the damp clay as if it were quicksand. The most useful stat I can summon is that in the first two sets that pretty much decided this match (Nadal has never lost a match extended to five sets on clay), Ferrer was down a break point in all but two games — the first and third of the match.

Ferrer isn’t a player well-suited to all-out, face-to-face combat with Nadal; he needs to work like a sniper (hence that aborted game plan to attack Nadal and shorten points).This reality was conspicuous during the match. When Ferrer opened up the court, Rafa opened it further. When Ferrer ran, Rafa ran further. When Ferrer hit a forehand hard, Rafa hit one harder. And — most important — when Ferrer hesitated, Rafa, well... Rafa clobbered him.

While leather-tough and persistent as a migraine, Ferrer still hasn’t mastered those big moments in a critical matches against top players. You can’t overlook that today he was broken with ease to end the first set (the last two points were a pair of double faults). And while Nadal admittedly began to play lights-out tennis in earnest starting with the second game of the following set, Ferrer would lose that one with another disappointing service game. A pair of two double faults sandwiched between a pair of forehand errors ended the set and put the match out of reach.

“I was a bit nervous, frightened,” Ferrer admitted. “I knew there would be some pressure on me. But he was also ‘quote,’ fearful, ‘end quote.’ I had my good moments, but he had lots of them.”

Well, there’s no shame in losing to Nadal on clay, especially in the wake of this re-born warrior’s season of discontent. There are different ways to look at the shock Nadal suffered when he had to miss nearly eight months spanning 2012 and early ’13, one of which hasn’t been explored sufficiently. Nadal has never really spoken about how the fears and sobering realizations that accompanied his travails may have actually helped him in the long run — provided him with a slightly different kind of drive that he’s had before, and even a more mature understanding of his career and his needs. After all, he had little time to lift his head from the grindstone for a long period until his recent hiatus.

“I am taking everything a little bit more relaxed,” he admitted. “Before I wanted to practice every day a lot to be 100 percent sure that I am ready, but that's not possible at the day of today anymore. Hopefully it will be possible in the future, but not today. I think mentally I accepted that situation. When you get more experience on tour when you get older, probably you don't need to practice as much as you need when you were a junior or when you have 20 or 19 years.”

Nadal went on to say that when he was 20, and already at the top of the game, laying down his sticks for two weeks made him edgy, made him feel that he needed “a lot of time” to be 100 percent ready. He said, “That’s not happening today, last couple of years I didn’t feel that happening, and that’s a positive thing.”

He added that in the interim he’s improved his technique, presumably by focusing on it more closely. “For the moment, I cannot answer more,” he added. “The things are going more than perfect.”

Nadal pulled out of next week’s grass-court tournament in Halle, and is returning to Mallorca to rest for a week before he jets off to London to prepare for Wimbledon. While he’s home, he plans to do some fishing. It seems this 27-year old never gets tired of bringing in — and biting — those trophies, although the ones he lands next he’ll be able to actually eat, not just bite.

The Eleven-Year Itch

Sat, 08 Jun 2013 19:40:00 +0000

PARIS —Shortly after she won her 16^th Grand Slam title at the French Open today, Serena Williams was asked to compare herself to the 20-year old ingénue who won this title unexpectedly over her sister Venus Williams in 2002.

“I prefer the Serena of 2002 because she still has a whole career ahead of her,” the 31-year old replied, quickly adding, “This one does too, but maybe not another 15 years worth.”

I can think of many people who might breath a sigh of relief at the second half of that answer, chief among them Maria Sharapova, a four-time Grand Slam champion herself, and a 6-4, 6-4 loser to Williams on the red clay of Court Philippe Chatrier today. Sharapova is just 26, and now trails in their head-to-head with Williams, 2-14. Age appears to be the only thing on her side.

On the other hand, after suffering a number of humiliating losses, Sharapova was able to make today’s score-line look respectable, and she extended the match to one hour, 46 minutes. Some people concluded that this loss was a “moral victory” for Sharapova. That may be accurate, but it’s extraordinary that something like that can be said of a Grand Slam final. Wasn’t it just yesterday that no less an authority than Rafael Nadal remarked:

“That's the good thing about sport. That it is real. Everybody likes sport because what you see is what it is. One win; another lose. Sometimes one; sometimes the other. But is real, and that's the beautiful thing.”

The problem with the matches between these two women is that the “sometimes the other” doesn’t apply to Sharapova. Commiseration with her is a comment on the enormous gulf that exists between Sharapova, the second best player in the WTA side, and Williams. It’s presently so wide that it sends us looking for something — anything — to say about the state of the non-rivalry. It takes us away from that “real” territory, into one of equivocation and qualification. Any port in a storm right?

Sharapova herself liked the “moral victory” theme well enough. She said after the match, “No, I don't think that's black and white. You can be really down about it (losing). And I am, because I'm a competitor and I'm a fighter. But that's the feeling that ultimately will make you work harder and make you think a little bit. It gives you more determination. So, yeah, I hope that that's what I take away from the match. I will take a few little positives from this match.”

The air was thick and humid, with the oppressive sun just a broad, yellow smear behind the clouds that threatened rain as the two women strolled out, accompanied by ball boys bearing the familiar finalists’ bouquets. One of them would end up looking more like an arrangement in a funeral parlor but as Nadal reminded us, “that’s a beautiful thing.”

Sharapova struggled right from the start, falling behind love-40 in the first game. Before that game was even finished, Sharapova was already making melodramatic gestures. She shrieked “come on” and went into a spasm like someone who’d just been gut shot as she clenched her fist. I’m not sure what such demonstrations accomplish, other than letting the world know just how desperate your situation is at 0-0, 30-40 in the first set. After the match she denied that she was trying to send Serena a message (“I don’t really think she cares what’s going on my side,” she would say afterward), but that aside, what could anyone read into those gestures, coming at that time, but something like desperation?

Sharapova fought off those three break points (and another later in the game) and then broke Williams. She climbed to 40-15 in the third game with ace and another outburst, but when Williams reeled her in and broke Sharapova’s serve to draw even on serve at 1-2, she sure acted as if she’d been receiving those signals all along. Williams’s momentum carried her toward to net when she hit a winning smash for the break; she threw her own fist in the air, glared at Sharapova, and paid the compliment of quoting her: “Come on!”

This is all a little high-school confidential-ish, I know, but I go into it for two reasons. First, because all this yelling and fist-pumping gets tiresome. Second and more important, it’s just one of the many ways Sharapova gives herself away in a manner that would make a serious student of body language cringe. At other points in the match, she was unable to hide her disappointment at missing one of the scant opportunities she did have. After the error, she allowed her arms to drop and her shoulders to droop. She obviously felt deflated. Surely someone with as much pride as Sharapova knows better, so take it as a sign of just how demoralizing it is to face Williams and that blizzard of aces and winners that regularly pour from her racquet.

The dynamic when these two women meet is intriguing. Usually, Sharapova is the aggressor. Unlike Williams, she won’t even utter a “sorry” when she takes back a serve toss. She also ratchets up the already deafening shriek that accompanies every shot (Williams was utterly silent through the first few games, but apparently couldn’t resist challenging her rival in the yelling competition), and throws in all those fist pumps.

By contrast, Williams embarks on the test with something that looks very much like disdain. She moves extra slowly, almost reluctantly — as if she doesn’t take her task all that seriously. Of course, that’s not true, and some of it can be put down to anxiety. As she would say later, “I was so nervous today. I’m usually not this nervous before a match. I was not myself this match at all. But I’m glad I got through that one because I’ve played nervous before and I’ve lost a few times. I was really happy to win this one.”

That might be difficult to swallow, and let’s remember that Williams’s diplomatic skills have improved noticeably. She was more convincing when she said that she also felt a lot of anxiety coming into the tournament. “I think in the back of my head, yes. I mean I played great last year, too. I won the same tournaments. And I was like. . . I just want to win one match here. If I can just win one match, if I can get a good first round, good second round, if I could get through these I felt like I could do a lot better. I actually got a little bit tight in my first-round match, even though I won oh and one or something like that. I just got tight and I told my mom afterwards, ‘I can’t do this anymore. I’m too old for this! Like I mean, I’ve got to find a solution.’ We talked about it and I got over it.”

It often takes a little time for Williams to get fully invested in a match, and when she did it spelled doom for Sharapova. That moment of commitment seemed to come in that third game, and Williams followed the break with a strong hold and another break that put her up 4-2.

Sharapova did well to hold the next game, and a ray of light broke over her landscape when she broke Serena to level it at 4-all. But Sharapova couldn’t hold serve as Williams won two rallies and secured the break with massive cross-court forehand blast.

Williams held to win the set, but Sharapova got a nice little boost out of holding the first game of the second, in which Williams had five break points. But one easy Williams hold later, Sharapova was in trouble again — and this time she wouldn’t escape.

Up to this point, Sharapova had endured familiar, harrowing adventures each time she served the ball. But for a change she put in her first serve — no let, no caught-toss dry run, no dodgy call and do-over — and Williams returned it. Caught off guard, perhaps, but such a routine exchange, Sharapova mangled a forehand to give Williams a 2-1 lead.

Suddenly, Williams began to put on a powerful serving demonstration. She also smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her rally game. She would lose all of three points on her serve in the second set, and popped out six aces, pulling away from and ultimately overwhelming Sharapova as she held onto that early break and served it out. Williams hit three of those six aces in the final game, and said of that moment:

“Well, honestly, at that point I was just so nervous. I thought, I'm not going to be able to hit ground strokes. No joke. I really thought that, and as you saw the one ground stroke I did hit went like 100 feet out. I thought to myself, ‘Look, Serena, you've just got to hit aces. That's your only choice.’ ”

The thought is one thing, the act another. Commenting on that superior serve, Sharapova said: “We know she's going to be able to hit a big serve. I mean, I think if I was built like Serena I hope I'd be able to hit a big serve like that, too.”

It was the cheap shot of a disappointed loser. For as Williams said later, “I don’t know, I'm a lot smaller then Maria, so I don't know how I'm able to serve so big.”

It was just another point in which Williams got the best of Sharapova today, and this one wasn’t a mere “moral victory” either.

Roland Garros: S. Williams d. Sharapova

Sat, 08 Jun 2013 16:50:00 +0000

Two days ago, in previewing the women’s final between Serena Williams and Maria Sharapova, I wondered whether we would see a competition or a coronation. It turned out that we saw both. Sharapova, who hasn’t beaten Serena in nearly 10 years, held her own and made this one a match from start to finish. But in the end it was Serena who, as expected, hoisted her second Coupe Suzanne Lenglen, 11 years to the day after her first, with a 6-4, 6-4 win.

Sharapova said she had to do something different against Serena. What it appeared to be was to try to hit the ball within a couple of inches of the baseline on every shot. Depth was what Maria was looking for, precision depth—that’s what it was going to take to compete with Serena. To her credit, Sharapova pulled it off for much of the day, and never backed down or crumbled when it stopped working. She started fast, breaking Williams in the second game. Maria's grunt was longer and louder than normal, and she punctuated every point won with a “Come on!” When she went up 40-15 at 2-0, it looked like Sharapova might finally be a threat to her nemesis. On the next point, though, Serena decided to show her that she wasn't going to get there today. She smacked a forehand with an extra-edgy grunt of her own and fired herself up with a fist-pump—”I’m over the slow-start thing,” was the not-so-subtle message to herself. And she was. Serena came back to break serve and never trailed again.

Serena won the way she usually wins: With her incomparable serve. She hit 10 aces, including two in the final game, and lost just three points with it in the second set. Sharapova couldn’t match that; she made just 55 percent of her first serves, and faced 15 break points. But she did her best to stave off the inevitable. Maria saved four break points in the first game of the match, and five more in the first game of the second set. While she never led after the opening two games, she never let the match get away from her, either.

The serve is always a difference-maker for Serena against Maria, and so is her speed. As well as Sharapova hit the ball, and as deep as she placed it, she still finished with just 10 winners against 17 errors. Serena showed off the footwork and balance that has made her so much tougher on clay the last two years. Most important, she avoided the panic that had set in against Svetlana Kuznetsova in the quarterfinals. Serena still seemed to expect to win every point—she celebrated her winners by scolding herself for not hitting them earlier—but she didn’t let losing a few bother her. Much like the Olympic gold medal match last year, Serena was not only hellbent on beating her opponent, but hellbent on not beating herself. She was forceful, but always under control. That’s what happens when you know you have the best serve in the game to back you up.

Serena celebrated, and was crowned, at Roland Garros again—it was nice to see her show all of that joy off in a new location. In a sense, this completes a second career Slam for the 31-year old, and makes it clear that she’s the best everywhere, on every court and surface. She has lived and trained in Paris for a few years now. Today she owns it.

Outtakes from an Interview Room

Sat, 08 Jun 2013 11:48:00 +0000

PARIS—The press interview room at most of the tennis events I cover is ably manned by the most helpful and useful people on the site, ASAP stenographers Julie Rabe and Linda Christensen. They’re the ones who record and transcribe sometimes lengthy and often borderline intelligible interviews and press conferences. These two weeks alone here at Roland Garros, the ladies churned out close to 150 interviews, some of them including material translated into English from French or Spanish — and emailed the three and four page documents out to us as quickly as 15 minutes after the official interview ended.

Julie and Linda, my friends and our sport’s version of Thelma and Louise, rarely get to leave the interview room, except to eat or take a brief break. But they have a fair amount of contact with reporters and the players in a behind-the-curtain way. It’s always interesting to hear what they have to say.

For example, both Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal are considerate gentlemen. Federer will usually make a point to acknowledge them and exchange pleasantries, while Rafa — who’s admittedly a little more hot-blooded — greets them at each new tournament with kisses on both cheeks. Ana Ivanovic is a darling, they say. And Andy Murray is really curious about the how their stenotype machine works (an interest no doubt stimulated by his intimate knowledge of gaming consoles).

The sheer volume of words Julie and Linda record at a tournament is astonishing, and full of exchanges ranging from the incisive and profound to the absurd. At their best, these interviews are often moving conversations, and those are hard to re-create. So let me choose three or four moments that can’t be handled in the scope of a typical news report or feature, but were memorable for reasons having nothing to do with the draw or seedings.
***

This exchange took place following Federer’s five-set win over Gilles Simon in the fourth round:

Q: (from a well-dressed, middle-aged man) “You're looking very fresh. Actually, doesn't look like you played five sets.”

A: “Thank you. You look great, too. . .” Laughter interrupted Federer and the man interjected “thanks!” as Federer went on. “. . . great for watching a match of five sets. Did you take a shower?"

Q: (the guy just had to press his luck): “These boring interviews, we have to get you guys to loosen up a bit.”

A: “I'm happy you did,” Federer said dryly.
***

No star is too great to be spared the complicated or even off-the-wall question that may be relevant to a story the reporter is working on, but not to the events of the day. Sometimes the reporter is fishing for something very specific, although it’s often hard to imagine what that might be. Here’s an unedited surprise lobbed by a Russian reporter at Rafa following his win over Fabio Fognini.

Q. “I want to ask a technical question, if I may. People are trying to improve the game every time, every year, new technique, new things that are coming up. I think it's very important for the coaches to know from the best players what is really important and what is not. Like nowadays on forehand and on serve some coaches, lots of them, are obsessed with where their non-racquet hand/arm is finishing after the stroke. So with little kids they are very specific about that. Does it matter to you? Do you ever worry about where your non-racquet arm is after the stroke, after the ball is hit? Do you understand what I. . .

A: (Nadal smiled) “No. Sorry.” Everyone laughed, but the reporter blazed on.

Q: “Thank you. Fantastic. For example, Roddick, when he serves, okay, his left arm finishes. . .”

A: (Clearly, Nadal wanted to move on without being rude, so he interjected): “Okay. My answer is, I really didn't understand all the question, but I can imagine in which way you are talking. Sorry, but I think at the end you see a lot of fantastic players playing with different technique. . .so you have different options.

“ You cannot do crazy things, you know. If you're having a very bad technique, is very difficult to be in the top. . . My advice to the coaches is when you have a kid and the kid is doing well in one way, you don't have to change. If the kids are not doing well this way, change the technique or change the things. But always the same. If the things are going well, you don't need to change nothing. Just try to keep improving things.”

Q. “Thank you very much.”

A: “Thank you.” Rafa paused. “I tried, eh?” (Laughter.)
***

Occasionally and sometimes deservedly, a reporter is dressed down or subjected to a withering put-down. Sometimes, it’s not even a critical reaction, but it’s still somewhat embarrassing to be the butt of a joke — as I was in an interview with Jo-Wilfried Tsonga.

It happened after his win over Viktor Troicki set him up for a clash with Federer. As it turned out, I was the only reporter who had questions in English (questions in English are handled first, then the interview switches to whichever is the player’s native tongue). I fired away to start the presser.

Q: “To an outsider, it looks likes Gaël Monfils here gets a lot of the attention, and a lot of the drama. You keep getting the victories. Is this a satisfactory trade for you?”

A: “Yeah, for me it's good. I mean, it's always good to win in straight sets. I don't spend too much energy for this, anyway. I'm playing well, so all the lights are green, and, yeah, I will have a big match for the next round and hope I will play my best tennis.”

Q. (WTF? I thought. But I’ve learned over the years not to force an issue, and tacked hard): Roger and Gilles are still out there, but in the back of your mind it's probably impossible for you not to know that at some point you might have to meet the Roger obstacle. How do you feel about your game right now, matching with his?”

A: “You know, Roger is playing well for the moment, too. But, you know, I know I'm able to win, you know, against Roger, against Gilles, because it's not finished, and it can be Gilles. You know, for me it's easy now. Everything is positive. . . to play this quarterfinal.”

Tsonga then turned to his French countrymen and, in an aside, triggered an explosion laughter. He turned back to me, smiled, and explained, through a translator, that he told his countrymen that he didn’t understand my questions but more or less guessed at them and winged it.

I appreciated his good-natured honesty, and realized how many of these interviews more or less generate the usual clichés about giving 100 percent, being “concentrated,” not looking ahead in the draw, etc. etc.
***

Reporters take special pleasure in engaging a player in something like a dialogue; it makes them feel noticed, important. Sometimes, they adopt an inappropriately familiar tone with the players, thereby boosting — or hoping to boost — their own worth. Whatever the case, it’s always a little irritating to the professionals in the room when an amateur decides he or she is Rafa or Nole’s new best friend.

The following anecdote isn’t a particularly egregious example of the habit, but note how the Chinese reporter prefaces her fangirl comment/question. She makes a crack referring to the previous (and obviously most relevant) line of questioning about Djokovic’s upcoming match with Nadal — and on the presumption that Djokovic himself wished to be rescued from such questions.

Q. “I guarantee you it's not about Rafa. You talked the other day about your language skill, and you mentioned you might know two or three Chinese characters. A lot of our audience would like to know which three.”

A: “I don't know the names. (Laughter.) I learned how to draw my name or my nickname in Chinese, but I haven't done it for few months.”

Q: (The reporter persisted). “That's the one? (apparently, she referred to a single character that represented his name)”

A: “It faded away, the knowledge.”

Q: “That's actually just one,” she reiterated.

A: Yeah. I still need to learn 4,999 signs, but there is a long way. (Laughter.)

Q. “Good luck,” the cheeky lady said.

A: “Thank you. (Laughter.) Very nice. . .very nice.”

We then returned to asking Djokovic about his rivalry with Nadal, perhaps leaving 1.3 billion Chinese disappointed — and one Chinese reporter stuck without the story she wanted to get.

Roland Garros: Ferrer d. Tsonga

Sat, 08 Jun 2013 02:00:00 +0000

If the officials at the French Open thought they were doing their countryman Jo-Wilfried Tsonga a favor by letting him be the headliner today, they were highly mistaken. Instead of the crowd being revved up for his semifinal against David Ferrer, they were exhausted after four hours of epic tennis from the warm-up acts, Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic. And those were the people who had stayed in the stadium. Most of the spectators, in need of a break, had vacated the stands completely. Jo was left all alone with the man known as the Little Beast, David Ferrer.

In truth, there probably wasn’t much that any audience could have done to make the early going any better for Tsonga, who looked like he needed a nap himself after waiting out Rafa and Nole. Everything fell apart for him in the second game. Serving at 0-1 and holding game point, Tsonga watched as a Ferrer return of serve clipped the tape and fell over for a winner. Jo, miffed, was broken, broken again for 0-4, and almost broken again at 0-5. Leave it to Ferrer to sit and stew all that time in the locker room, and still come out on fire. He wasn’t just out-running Tsonga through the early going, he was out-hitting him as well. Sleepy Jo was a step slow to everything.

As the second set started, though, it looked like he had woken up. With the crowd in their seats and “Allez”ing him on, Tsonga broke serve at love in the second game and rifled a forehand winner to hold for 3-0. He went up 30-0 on his serve at 3-1, but that’s when trouble struck again. Ferrer brilliantly anticipated a pass and knocked it off for a volley winner. Two points later, Tsonga flipped a backhand long and was broken. Except that Jo didn’t think his backhand had been long. Rather than putting it behind him, he argued pointlessly with chair umpire James Keothavong on the changeover. Agitated, Tsonga disputed another call in the next game, expressed his annoyance at the shadows on the court, and double-faulted to be broken.

It wasn’t over for Tsonga just yet. He shrugged that bad patch of play off, broke back, and reached set point on Ferrer’s serve at 4-5. Now Jo had the crowd revved up. Too revved up, in the case of one man. Ferrer, who waits for no one and nothing, played through the audience noise; as he tossed the ball to serve, someone yelled. Tsonga missed the return long and gestured in the direction of the perpetrator—he wanted the crowd loud, but only at the right times.

That would be Tsonga’s last best hope. With the match in the balance, he played a surprisingly passive, lethargic, and error-strewn second-set tiebreaker. There was more where that came from in the third set, as Ferrer came back from 40-15 down to break in the final game for a 6-1, 7-6(3), 6-2 win. A despondent Tsonga, who had played with such calm and confidence in beating Roger Federer two days ago, shuffled off to scattered boos and whistles; he had committed 56 errors and hit just 21 winners. Perhaps the letdown shouldn’t have been unanticipated—Jo is the fifth straight player to beat Federer at a major and lose his next match.

It was a day of disappointment in Chatrier, but not for one man. The hard-working, long-suffering, rarely-complaining David Ferrer, 31, reached his first Grand Slam final after losing five semifinals. And he deserved it: He was the better, more energetic, more aggressive player from start to finish today; he thrives in the hostile atmosphere of Davis Cup, and he thrived again in Paris. Ferrer controlled points with his ground strokes and finished them with deft drops and volleys. The baseline-loving Ferru was 17 of 22 at the net this afternoon.

Ferrer’s reward? A 24th match against his countryman Rafael Nadal. We can wait a day to remind him that he’s 4-19 in the first 23. Let him enjoy the moment. The man known, against his will, as the Little Beast has waited—and run and scratched and fought—long enough for it.

The Heroic and the Human

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 23:56:00 +0000

You know a match is a good one when neither player can fathom the shots that his opponent is pulling off. Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic spent a fair amount of Friday shaking their heads and smiling in rueful disbelief at their rival’s preposterous play. Nadal couldn’t believe Djokovic’s lunging, line-licking returns, or his above-the-shoulder tomahawk forehand winners. As for Novak, he looked for help from his coaches after Rafa dug one more impossible get out of the clay, or hooked another forehand down the line on the dead run. Alas, there was no help for either man. Rafa and Nole were back where they belong, way out on the Grand Slam high wire again.

This epic was a mirror image of their last one, in the 2012 Australian Open final. That day it had been Nadal who had survived a near-death experience in the fourth set, won it in a tiebreaker, and taken a 4-2 lead in the fifth before watching Djokovic storm back for the title. Today it was Nole who broke Rafa at 3-4 in the fourth and again at 5-6, grabbed that set in a tiebreaker, and led 4-2 in the fifth before watching Nadal take it all away, 9-7. In each of those matches, the loser was haunted by a stunning, crucial lapse. In Australia, with a chance to go up 5-2 in the fifth, Nadal had missed the easiest of backhand passing shots. In Paris, serving at 4-3 in the final set, two games from victory and a chance at his first French Open title, Djokovic gave away a point when he ran into the net after hitting what would have been a winning overhead.

In Melbourne, it took these two nearly six hours to decide a winner; today the end came in a relatively brisk four hours and 37 minutes. But this match lacked for nothing. It had the elegantly brutal corner-to-corner rallies that we expect from these two; as always, Djokovic pressed forward, forced to throw caution to the wind, while Nadal made him hit one, two, three more perfect shots. It had the ebbs and flows in momentum that have characterized their past matches: Nadal started well, but Djokovic answered in the second set, and came out swinging again at the end of the fourth. Nadal appeared beaten in the fifth, but found his confidence before it was over.

The match also had wind to deal with, time violations to shrug off, a tweener lob from Rafa, and a fifth-set argument between Djokovic and the umpire about watering the court. It was that last, strange dispute, which Djokovic wouldn’t let go, that finally threw off his concentration and led to his demise. In the rain-soaked 2012 final here, the court had been too soggy for Rafa; this year the court was too slippery for Nole. Both times the water gods, and the French officials, left Djokovic high and dry.

As I write this a few hours after the match, it's not the heroics of these two players that I want to remember; it's their flaws. When we look back at the game’s greats, its Borgs and Grafs and Lavers and Navratilovas, too often we talk about them as if they had no imperfections, as if they never choked or played the wrong shot or made a crucial blunder, never missed an easy pass or ran into the net a second too soon. We know it’s not true, that they must have been human. But we like to pretend that Gods once roamed the earth, and that they deserve our unquestioning reverence.

Some day we’ll talk the same way about Nadal and Djokovic. In 20 years, when the world’s new No. 1 is struggling in the wind at Roland Garros, we’ll say, “Rafa never would have let that ball get past him,” or “Nole would have given that weak serve what it deserved.” But as great as this match was, it also revealed their human sides.

Djokovic was determined to win this for his late coach, Jelena Gencic, but he still couldn't banish his doubts about whether he really could beat the King of Clay here, in a three-out-of-five-set match, for the first time. He fought those doubts all the way to the end, and played brilliant tennis whenever he cleared them from his head. But they returned when he evened the match at one set all, and again when he took the lead for in the fifth set. Even with 15 wins over Rafa in the past, beating him here required a different level of belief, and a more sustained elevation of his game.

Rafa had similar doubts about beating Djokovic. They had been ingrained over the course of his seven straight defeats to him in 2011-’12, and had popped up again in their match in Monte Carlo in April. He's usually on defense against Nole, scrambling to stay in points and often matches; everything about their rally patterns works against him. More than once today, Nadal took the lead, only to see Djokovic wipe it away with a return that was planted on the baseline, and a backhand winner to the corner—the Serb, Rafa's grimace in these moments said, could make it look so easy. Twice in the fourth set, just as Nadal appeared ready to drop the hammer for good, he was broken.

In Australia, Nadal succumbed to his nerves; in Paris, Djokovic let himself get distracted at the wrong time. Last time, from 2-4 down, Nole played like he had ice in his veins; today, from 2-4 down, Nadal broke out of his desperately defensive posture and rallied with new depth and aggression. He would finish this match with seven more winners than Djokovic, 61 to 54.

Afterward, Rafa said that he “deserved” this win because of the loss he had suffered in Melbourne. “Deserved” isn’t exactly the right word; if Djokovic had won the fifth set today, he would have deserved both victories as well. What I think Rafa meant is that in the case of these two matches, which were so close, so hard-fought, so well-played, so topsy-turvy, there’s justice in the fact that both he and Nole came away with one win apiece. Nadal realizes there’s not much that separates the two rivals, and acknowledges that there’s a fair amount of luck involved in deciding which one of them ends up on top.

Both matches were won with heroics on one side of the net, and human errors on the other. They could easily be reversed again in their next epic. When we think of Nadal and Djokovic as heroes and warriors, it means a lot more when we remember that they’re both human, too.

*****

From a semifinal preview to a final-round preview...

(3) Rafael Nadal vs. (4) David Ferrer
Nadal leads the head to head 19-4, and leads on clay 16-1

We’re down to the final, and on paper it doesn’t look like a thriller. These two are friends and Davis Cup teammates, and one of them frankly admits that he’s not as good as the other. So if you’re looking for fisticuffs, or even just a dark scowl across the net, you’ve come to the wrong match.

Worse, like the women’s final, it appears to be a stone-cold mismatch—heavyweight against middleweight, matador against picador. As I asked of Serena vs. Maria, will the men’s final be a competition, or another coronation for Rafa?

Let’s start with the head to head. I knew that Nadal led 19-4, but I didn’t know he was 16-1 against him on clay; that makes their matchup even more one-sided. As does the fact that Ferrer’s one win came all the way back in 2004, and that the last time he beat Rafa on hard courts, at the 2011 Australian Open, Nadal was hobbled by a leg injury. If you take that one away, Ferrer hasn’t recorded a win over his friend since 2007. When Ferru insists that he’s not as good as Nadal, he’s really just telling the truth.

As with Serena and Maria, Nadal does everything Ferrer does, and he does it better. He’s just as fast, just as well-conditioned, and just as cussed; but he’s also stronger, hits a heavier ball, and plays bigger in the big situations. Their matches can be close; there are plenty of tiebreakers and 7-5 sets in their history. This spring Ferrer won a set from Nadal in both Rome and Madrid, and was two points from winning the latter match. In Rome, Nadal absorbed Ferrer’s best shots in the second set, and made his own game more aggressive to counter it in the third. In Madrid, Nadal survived some bad early play before wearing Ferrer out in a 6-0 final set. Rafa always seems to have the answer for Ferrer, even if the question changes from match to match.

Is there anything that might alter this long-standing pattern between the alpha and beta of Spanish tennis? Here a few (improbable) possibilities:

—Ferrer will be fresher. He played three quick sets against Tsonga on Friday and has yet to drop a set in the tournament, while Nadal labored for more than four hours against Djokovic. But Rafa will have the all-important day off, and it’s hard to imagine him losing this match because he gets tired.

—Rafa could have a letdown after his semifinal win. That one felt like a final, but it wasn’t. Of course, Nadal is well aware of that, and was already guarding against any letdown before he walked on court with Djokovic. When he was asked before that match whether it was the equivalent of a final, he answered, very quickly and forcefully, “No. We are playing a semifinal.” In 2005, Nadal beat Roger Federer in the semifinals, then lost the first set of the final to Mariano Puerta. It looked like letdown city for the teenager, until he won the next three sets. I’m guessing Toni Nadal won't neglect to remind him that the tournament isn’t over yet.

—Nadal might feel a weird pressure playing Ferrer on this stage. He’s beaten his buddy everywhere else, but never in a Grand Slam final. Typically, in these matches, Rafa has faced his fellow Big 3 members, Federer and Djokovic. On Sunday, he’ll be the overwhelming favorite, whether he admits it or not. That could, conceivably, make him tight.

But there’s no reason to predict that any of this will happen. As I wrote at the start of this tournament—it’s Paris, it’s spring, it’s clay, it’s Rafa. What else do you need to know?

Pick: Nadal in three

Unforced Terrors

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 22:01:00 +0000

PARIS—The most impressive athletes on the grounds of Roland Garros while away most of the day on a sunlit patch of grass, in the nook at the corner of a tournament office building, their work finished most days by 8:30 a.m.

The three Harris Hawks and three Peregrine Falcons (two of them Goshawk hybrids) cling to portable aluminum perches, secured to them by a short leash attached to one leg of each bird. Occasionally, one of the hawks will exercise its wings, tugging at its leash as if it could carry it off. These birds of prey want to get at those pigeons about as enthusiastically as Serena Williams likes to get at a Sara Errani second serve.

The magnificent predators belong to Ludwig Verschatse of the Fauconnerie Merlyn, a family run falconry (Ludwig is assisted by his wife and two grown sons) in nearby Belgium. He was recruited to help the French Tennis Federation control the pigeons that make their home in and around Roland Garros. Wimbledon has a similar program, but the All-England Club retains its falconer as an employee. Ludwig just hires out his services for the month here, then moves on to the next job, which could be a seaside resort plagued by seagulls or a grain farm overwhelmed by crows.

That helps explain why Ludwig, a bearish, grizzled, 50-something with twinkling blue eyes and “country” written all over him was wearing a rumpled gray t-shirt and work boots, not a LaCoste polo and khakis, when we spoke under a shade tree at his temporary rookery. Ludwig’s love for his profession, and birds, was obvious as he identified by name and made an observation about each of his five birds. “That Harris Hawk is Chuck,” he told me. “For Chuck Norris. He is a good hunter, you know? ‘You don’t go looking for Chuck. . . he finds you.’ You remember that line from the movie?”

I confessed that I did not. But that fierce, down-turned beak of Chuck’s, and the steady, dispassionate gaze the bird appeared to level at me suggested that Chuck had no trouble at all living up to the obligations of his name.

Starting at first light each morning, the falconer stations himself on relatively high ground (high up in the cheap seats of court Philippe Chatrier, or in Suzanne Lenglen; he moves about) and flies the three hawks (Chuck, Tara, and Xena) in a regular rotation. The birds work on empty stomachs, because that’s still the best motivation for them to fly back to the falconer’s gloved hand (Don’t mistake these critters for dogs that return to you in the field simply joy they derive from licking your face).

Unlike the high-flying Peregrines, which remain airborne until they make a kill, the Harris hawks search for prey by flying from point-to-point. For that reason, they present some danger to the public, and must finish their work when the gates open to paying customers. Besides, happy urban tournament goers may not like the idea of their spoiled 12-year olds witnessing what a successful hawk does to its prey.

“When we first arrived (in 2012), they had a big problem with pigeons here,” Ludwig explained. “They had about one hundred and ten pigeons, which is far too much for a site like this. This year, there were about half that number. The birds performed well last year, so and we were invited back.”

But don’t fret too much, animal sentimentalists. The hawks kill few pigeons (about a dozen thus far this year). Mostly, they scare the living daylights of them, convincing them to retire into the adjacent Bois de Boulogne for the daylight hours.

“We create a cordon of insecurity,” Ludwig explained. “The pigeons realize this is not healthy territory for them. But late in the afternoon, we noticed, about ten or twelve pigeons usually return. These are the ‘rebels.’ They don’t scare as easily as the others.”

Some of those hard cases are Ramier pigeons (known in English as the Common Wood Pigeon), which are larger than the typical city pigeons with which they mix and are officially considered game birds. It makes no difference to the birds of prey; when a Peregrine Falcon hits one in mid-flight, it explodes in the same signature burst of feathers as a sparrow.

Ludwig controls those insurgents with his falcons. If the pigeons start to act up, he goes over to the Bois (park) and sets up in a field, so the high-flying Peregrines can see him and the lure he carries to coax them back. The Peregrines like to fly at about 250 feet, but he can control how high they fly by moving in or out of their view. When he’s obscured, the birds climb higher because they like to keep an eye on him. Few spectators notice the falcons, but during quiet moments you can sometimes hear the small bells they wear tinkling, high overhead.

The makeshift rookery is set up alongside a sort of secret path at one edge of the grounds, where a narrow dirt track under the trees leads all the way to the far end of the grounds. It’s off-limits to spectators, but players and other credentialed persons are allowed to use it. A number of pros, including David Ferrer, walked by while I chatted with Ludwig. They all seemed utterly indifferent to the magnificent creatures and the man to whom they are bonded, but perhaps they were just accustomed to them. I’m still tempted to channel T.S. Eliot:

“On the gravel walk, the players come and go,

Speaking of Tommy Robredo. . .

One For the Sages

Fri, 07 Jun 2013 20:14:00 +0000

PARIS—Certain matches transcend our familiar definitions and labels, and we witnessed one of those today in the French Open men’s semifinals at Roland Garros. Defending champion Rafael Nadal survived the bludgeoning groundstrokes of Novak Djokovic in five sets, 6-4, 3-6, 6-1, 6-7 (3), 9-7.

“Epic” may sound not quite right, perhaps because it’s over-used, and implies a measure of predictability. “Classic” isn’t quite accurate, either. That word suggests order and elegance. Words like “barnburner” or “donnybrook” or even “war” smack of cliché. This one was unpredictable, un-orderly, sometimes inelegant, and none of that prevented it from being unforgettable as well as majestic.

The start for Djokovic was so slow that it seemed Nadal might run away with it in 90 minutes, but it developed into an almost surreal struggle played out on equal footing on a sere, windblown plain the color of dried blood—a battleground on which Nadal has rarely been vanquished. This was one for the ages—and one for the sages.

This bruising, bewitching battle fractured our sense of time, because few might have predicted it would last so long once it was underway. Djokovic unexpectedly popped to life after falling behind by a set and a break, and then experienced another, comparable resurgence following the third set, at exactly the point where he looked once again like that younger self who experienced puzzling losses of confidence and conditioning. By the time the compelling fifth set began, the only thing we knew for sure was that one way or another it would end—and end it did, but not before spilling over the customary boundaries of the scoreboard.

Afterward, Nadal would tick off some of his most memorable and satisfying moments and add, “This one is a special one. Is not the final; is a semifinals, so that makes a difference. But we if we talk about everything that makes a match big, today we had all of these ingredients.”

The match ate up four hours and 37 minutes—considerably less time than that five-hour and 53-minute “epic” these two men produced in Australia to start 2012, but it contained exactly the same number of games (55). Put some of the disparity down to the fact that since that clash in Melbourne, both the ITF and ATP have put a new emphasis on preventing time violations; in fact, each player was warned in today’s match, and upon his second violation Nadal was actually docked a point.

It was a busy day for tennis officialdom in general; Djokovic also summoned supervisor Stefan Franssonon on the changeover at 7-6 (in favor of Nadal), to ask that the court be watered because it had become too dry and slippery, especially with the significant breeze blowing away so much top-dressing. His plea fell on deaf ears, and he found himself looking on in dismay in the late stages of the fifth set as Nadal kept making remarkable retrieves to keep points alive—while also taking advantage of the court speed to fire gorgeous winners.

“I congratulate my opponent, because he showed the courage in the right moments and went for his shots,” Djokovic said when it was all over. “When he was break down in the fifth he made some incredible shots from the baseline. I congratulate him, because that’s why he’s a champion. That’s why he’s been ruling Roland Garros for many years, and for me. . . it’s another year.”

The men seemed to be feeling each other out through the first four games, but they popped to life in the fifth, producing the first of the many warp-speed rallies the helped define this match. The first break would happen two games later, when Nadal converted his third break point owing to a Djokovic rally-ending forehand error. It was all the break Nadal needed to run out the set, because Djokovic made too many unforced errors to keep pace with his rival.

In the second set, Nadal broke for 3-2. But Djokovic snapped and broke right back. His game suddenly improved—so much so that he held with relative ease, promptly breaking Nadal again for 5-3, and served out the set without making an unforced error in the final four games. “He had a fantastic half an hour to win the second,” Nadal said. “From 3-2 to 6-3 was just amazing the way that he played.”

But that outstanding run seemed to take something out of Djokovic, and it quickly became clear that he would be unable to keep his boot on Nadal’s throat—not on this day of peaks and volleys. After a quick Nadal hold to start the third set, errors began to melt off Djokovic’s strings and he was broken easily for 0-2. He took a bathroom break after Nadal held for 3-0, but never was competitive in the set again.

“These kind of matches are long, so is very difficult to play at one-hundred percent during the whole match, especially when two players are very close,” Nadal said. “If one player goes down a little bit, the opponent makes a difference. So yes, I was a little bit surprised. With the dynamic at the end of the second, he probably felt that he had an advantage. But it was completely the opposite, so probably mentally was a hard moment for him. But Djokovic always come back. That’s the real (true) thing.”

The proof of that was not long in coming. Nadal and Djokovic took it to another level after that three-set warm-up. The rallies were fast and furious, Nadal’s racquet in particular nothing but a blur when he unleashed that whiplash forehand. We began to see signs of a quality that would serve as the other bookend to match the courage animating Nadal’s offense; he resolutely ran down every blessed ball at which he had even a remote shot, and many at which he did not. The all-in attitude would pay great dividends in the fifth set, after Djokovic won the fourth-set tiebreaker with relative ease—but not before breaking Nadal while the seven-time champ served for the match at 6-5.

That fifth set went Djokovic’s way right off the bat, with a break of Nadal followed by a hold. The early break hung on Nadal’s neck like an albatross; next thing he knew he was down 2-4. “If you’re down 2-4, you have the impression that you’re going to lose,” he said. “But then you want to win the next point and then the following point. What you want is to come back into the match. If you can fight well, then anything is possible.”

It seems obvious, but that’s Nadal, the short version. He kept the faith and was rewarded with the break for 4-all, thanks to a cross-court backhand winner and an unreturnable forehand. From 4-all, Nadal had breathing room, and he ran down Djokovic blasts and powdered winners until he finally broke down the top seed in the final game.

“I don’t see many wrong things that I’ve done today, especially in the fifth set,” Djokovic said. “He hit some lines from unbelievable angles. And 3-1 in the fifth, when we played a long game, I had many opportunities. Other than that, he was serving really well. He was much more aggressive and he made some incredible shots.”

There was one more dimension worth noting in this unusually surprising match. Perhaps it helps explain what happened, albeit at an instinctual, gut level rather than through the offices of the mind. This was a match for those who don’t put much stock in the notion of fate, who believe that a man strong, bold, and adequately committed can actually cheat what appears to be pre-ordained.

Djokovic looked preternaturally calm and in absolute control of his emotions throughout, even during those intervals when his game seemed to be bound in shrink wrap. At the same time, Nadal often looked a little edgy, a mite weighed down and beleaguered. Even Nadal knows that he can’t go on winning Roland Garros forever; some day, his marvelous run will end. And at this tournament, Djokovic had already declared his intention to win in honor of the coach who developed his game but died last week, Jelena Gencic.

Those resurgences by Djokovic often made it seem that perhaps destiny was somehow at work, bearing him along toward a win that even the greatest clay-court player in the history of the game wouldn’t be able to prevent. We’ve seen these kinds of miracles before. But we wouldn’t see another one today.

This issue will be forgotten, and probably long before these two men meet again. There’s no real way to keep alive the mood or content of a particular moment, even an extended one. And you certainly can’t shoehorn it into the historical record, alongside all those serve and break-point conversion stats. But that doesn’t mean that those special circumstances and sensitivities weren’t at work, silently tugging at one or both men. If you believe even a little of that, your respect for Nadal must increase—if that’s possible.

His explanation for why he prevailed was considerably simpler. Nadal said, “When you love the game, you love what you are doing. You appreciate what you are doing in every moment. You know, I learned during all my career to enjoy suffering, and these kind of matches are very special.”

He might have added that such love is enough to overcome just about anything, even Novak Djokovic and the tug of fate.

A Competition, or a Coronation?

Thu, 06 Jun 2013 22:25:00 +0000

Watching Serena Williams flatten Sara Errani in their semifinal on Thursday, and thinking back over Serena's head-to-head history against Maria Sharapova, you might wonder whether a preview is even necessary in the case of this year’s French Open women’s final. You might be right, too—Serena vs. Maria, despite being No. 1 vs. No. 2, has the makings of an epic blowout that renders all analysis moot. But they’re still going to play the match, so I will still do the preview. And I will start by saying that stranger things than a Sharapova upset have happened. I can't recall any right at this moment, but still, there must have been something...

*****

(1) Serena Williams vs. (2) Maria Sharapova
Williams leads their head to head 13-2, and leads 3-0 on clay

The head-to-head record, while one-sided, doesn’t give you a full idea of how thoroughly Serena has dominated this match-up. She's lost to Sharapova twice in 2004, and hasn’t let it happen again. Since 2007, she’s allowed her just two sets in 11 matches.

Why has this happened? Sharapova is a career Grand Slammer, after all. First, the two women play a similar attack-at-all-times game, but Serena is better in every aspect. She’s much faster, her serve is more reliable and more of a weapon, and she hits as hard if not harder from the ground. Second, and perhaps more important, is the psychological element. A lot of people believe Serena is still exacting revenge on Sharapova for upsetting her in the 2004 Wimbledon final. I’m sure Serena hasn’t forgotten that loss, but from what she says after her matches with Sharapova these days, her dominance is also the product of respect. Serena says she’s extra careful not to give anything away against Sharapova, because she knows she won’t give up, and that she's good enough to make a run. In other words, Serena gives her respect so she can keep getting revenge.

Sharapova admitted today that her record against Serena bothers her, and that she’ll have to try something new, because nothing has worked in their recent matches. She can take at least some hope from her performance against Serena in Miami in April. Sharapova won the first set and appeared in command in the second set as well. Then Serena stopped making errors and won the last 10 games of the match. But for the first time in a long time, Sharapova did show the capability to control their rallies and make Serena worry and work. Afterward, Maria claimed to be making progress. But their last match, on clay in Madrid, was another step back, as Serena jumped on her right away and gave up just five games.

The match-up, the surface, and even their current form are all working against Sharapova—she beat Victoria Azarenka on Thursday, but she threw in 11 double-faults (along with 12 aces) along the way, and struggled to close out the match from 5-2 up in the third set. To win, or at least to be allowed into the match, Sharapova has to hope that Serena begins to beat herself. That’s nearly what happened in her quarterfinal against Svetlana Kuznetsova. As expected, Serena won the first set easily, but when it wasn’t quite as easy at the start of the second, she got more frustrated and nervous than necessary. Before that match, Serena hadn’t lost more than three games in a set in close to a month; it must have been unsettling for her to meet any kind of resistance. When she stopped dominating Kuznetsova, Serena became overwrought and acted like disaster was around the corner. But she eventually calmed down and turned things back around.

Even against Errani, it looked like it could happen again. After winning the first set in 21 minutes, Serena lost a couple of points in her first service game of the second. When she evened that game up, she fist-pumped as if she had just won a key point in a third-set tiebreaker. But Errani couldn't do enough to make Serena nervous for long, and the moment passed.

I don’t expect that to happen in the final. Serena will be the overwhelming favorite and will likely feel that pressure, but one reason she has been so good against Sharapova is that she hasn’t panicked against her—she was the overwhelming favorite in their Olympic gold medal match last year, and she lost just one game. But Maria should remember that even if she’s blown out in the first set, if she can put together a game or two early in the second, she could find herself back in it. If Serena gives her a moment of vulnerability, Sharapova, like Kuznetsova and unlike Errani, is capable of grabbing it. That's about all she can hope for in this one.

The Pick: Williams in two sets

Frequent Flyer

Thu, 06 Jun 2013 19:55:00 +0000

PARIS—Every day around 11 a.m., representatives of the official and rather sinister-sounding French “Security Control” agency take an elevator high up to the top of the southwest tower of Court Suzanne Lenglen at Roland Garros to perform a pre-flight safety check.

This is mandated by law and dutifully carried out, even though the plane they inspect is attached to cable and flying all of 350 meters (just over 1,000 feet) and never higher than 58 meters (190 feet). The plane weighs a very un-jumbo-jet-like 130 pounds and is just nine-and-a-half feet (2.90 meters) long—and you thought you had too little legroom on that recent Delta flight!

You may have already guessed that this is the Emirates Airlines “plane cam” that’s been making numerous daily round-trips between a towering crane just outside the Roland Garros grounds and that tower at Lenglen. The craft, a replica of an Emirates A380 Airbus (built to scale in every respect but the length of the wings, which had to be shortened), carries the by-now familiar “sky cam” or “spider cam” that has become a standard feature at most sporting events. You probably saw it zip-lining above the grounds, its shadow crawling across the rust-colored clay like that of a prehistoric bird of prey.

Ryan Harrison certainly did. During his close and tense five-set match with John Isner on Court 7 last week, he had to curb his irritation at the sight of that fat little plane bobbing gently above the court—halted, as it always is, by the “pilot” high up on Lenglen in order to minimize the distraction it creates. But it’s not easy to hide a $40,000 model airplane that is destined to end up in the Hammacher Schlemmer catalog as the perfect vehicle for capturing a permanent record of that birthday party you want to throw at your country estate for your nine-year old.

The plane-cam struck me as some sort of evolutionary step in marketing, if that can be said of something that is either going to make you grin or cringe in horror. So I decided to find out a little about how it came to be. Those of you who imagine that this represents some new victory for the forces of commerce over advocates for “the game” in all its glory and purity will be disappointed to learn that the idea wasn’t cooked up by committee during some PR firm’s brainstorming retreat. It was the idea of a veteran former tennis chair umpire—one of the small number of “gold badge” ITF officials—who has presided over three Grand Slam finals, Anne Lasserre-Ullrich.

Ullrich, currently married to fellow gold badge umpire Steve Ullrich, left the umpiring business in 2002 (although she works just enough to maintain her “international” level certification) to return to school to study marketing. She eventually went to work as a sales rep for ACS France, an outfit that has the distribution and servicing rights to the U.S.-based Sky Cam and CableCam products.

The plane-borne camera was her idea. The FFT (French Federation du Tennis) green-lighted the deal when it secured Emirates as a major sponsor. “We (ACS) have an engineering department, and they worked up a proposal and sent it to Emirates. They didn’t like it—they wanted a replica of the A380 Airbus. So we contacted Airbus, who gave us the plans and the engineering department reduced it to scale.”

The model is made of honeycombed polyurethane foam panels and expanding poly foam. It weighs so much because it carries two batteries in its fuselage, one for the camera and one for the gyro-head that stabilizes the image. It may seem like a simple enough set-up, but keeping that little fat boy flying is a major operation. There’s a “platform pilot” who maneuvers the plane with a pair of joysticks. Then there’s the operator of the camera, a “gyro-head tech,” and a lead “rigger” who makes sure everything is functioning properly.

Up close, the plane is a beautiful, painstakingly accurate replica. And those stubby wings only make it look, well, cute. Your kid would like it a lot more than Harrison did, provided you’ve got an extra 40 grand lying around to have the ACS folks build you one.

Picked Up and Dusted Off

Thu, 06 Jun 2013 19:28:00 +0000

PARIS—It’s a pretty harsh world that Maria Sharapova inhabits, her existence defined by ancient codes that a few millennia of civilization has resolutely wiped out in society at large. It’s a kill-or-be-killed world, a dog-eat-dog world, and let’s give thanks that we’re talking about her career here rather than her life in general.

Is there a player who lives more fully, week-to-week on the tennis court, by that old Biblical proverb, “live by the sword, die by the sword?” And the odd thing is that on any given day she might do both.

Today was any given day.

Sharapova, the No. 2 seed and defending champion here at Roland Garros, survived a strong fight by No. 3 Victoria Azarenka to win 6-1, 2-6, 6-4 and reach Saturday’s final. She prevailed with a great display of nerve and verve, relying on her trademark ability to block out all that had come before and hold nothing back, playing every blessed point as if it were the first one. Of her life.

That was never more apparent than in the final games of match. Sharapova wasted four match points serving at 5-2, and after fending off two break points and enduring five deuces, she finally surrendered the game with a pair of double faults—enough to break the spirit of even the most enthusiastic competitor. She was distracted by her failure enough that she gave up the next game to Azarenka with four quick errors.

But Sharapova responds to adversity better than anyone save her nemesis, Serena Williams. She picked herself up, dusted herself off, and walloped a forehand winner to start that 5-4 game, going on to close it out in four straight points, the last an ace.

Irony, anyone? But that’s Sharapova—ever able to hit the reset button, always ready to start over no matter how puzzling or cringe-worthy her most recent transgression.

The match started on a bright but humid afternoon with Sharapova broken at love, partly because of two double faults. But she ripped right into Azarenka’s next service game, broke her, and ultimately ran away with the set. She hit 11 winners to four by Azarenka, and did an excellent job taking time away from her overwhelmed, rushed rival. But even in that lopsided first set the rallies were savage; the piercing shrieks of the two greatest screamers on the WTA rented the air and added to the intensity of the tableau. Even the pigeons stopped flying and perched on the scoreboard, seeming to watch.

Sharapova’s form declined slightly at the start of the second set, and Azarenka took full advantage of it. Later, Azarenka would say, “So I felt second set I was starting to play much better, really going for my shots. In the first and little bit beginning of the second it was me just trying to find time or, you know, being too passive. Maria is one of the players who will always take opportunity from that.”

Once Azarenka dug in her heels and began to push back, the games were much closer even if the rallies were no less intense. Azarenka broke serve for 4-2, and broke again in the eighth game—thanks to another Sharapova double fault—to win the set. A cloudburst provided a half-hour intermission, and wiped the slate clean for a best-of-one showdown.

Where all this would end was anyone’s guess, because it seemed that with these two exceptional ball strikers, you can almost throw a “game plan,” as we generally mean the term, out the window.

“It looks like that because we both trying to be aggressive on the first ball, so whoever starts the points start the rhythm,” Azarenka said. “And you cannot change the rhythm after somebody starts it. You just have to keep up and try to do whatever maneuver or, you know, be more aggressive, more accurate. Try to place better. But if somebody hits the ball at you, there is nothing else you can do besides hitting it back. I think that is not a strategy, it’s just a different game plan.”

Oddly, Sharapova herself took umbrage at the same line of questioning, interpreting it as a snide suggestion that both players are “one-dimensional.” She sniffed, “I think it doesn’t just take big ball striking to get to a final of a Grand Slam. It takes a lot more than that. Believe it or not, there is a lot that goes into it, and it’s not just that.”

Well, fine—I just hope for Sharapova’s sake that she doesn’t take a notion to drop “big ball striking” out of her repertoire in favor of greater variety, or even that dull drill commonly known as “point construction.” I just don’t see how it’s going to be a useful approach against her next opponent, Serena.

Anyway, the third set produced even more outstanding rallies and a few critical shifts of momentum, not just in the set but within at least one of its most important games. Azarenka was broken for 1-2 , but she attacked Sharapova’s next service game and backed her to 30-40, thanks mainly to two double faults and an unreturnable forehand. Sharapova then belted two aces, but threw in another double-fault, and eventually dropped her serve for 2-2. Those were enough turning points to decide a match, never mind a single game.

It may seem bizarre, but those double faults of Sharapova’s probably pay an unseen if modest dividend, keeping an opponent guessing and wondering what lay in store. As Azarenka said, “You just have to focus on the return, but the serve is definitely something that you never know what to expect. So you just have to stay focused on your return, and I felt that sometimes I was just not committing enough.”

That break-back by Azarenka ought to have given her new impetus, but she went on to play a terrible game that resulted in a swift break—the third in a row, and the one that finally turned the tide in Sharapova’s favor.

The break changed the momentum, for sure,” Azarenka admitted. “When I broke back, I didn’t start the same way I was playing in the second set. I was just trying to make things happen too quick, and started missing the ball. I was a little bit unfortunate and inconsistent in that particular moment.”

That’s certainly true, but Azarenka will leave Roland Garros justifiably proud of the progress she’s made on clay this year. Once again, though, the striking fact is that Sharapova was inconsistent, too. And once again she managed to survive and triumph. It appears to be a unique talent, and I wondered if years and years of attacking the ball, taking it early, and going for broke—even if she’d just clubbed, say, two double faults and shanked a forehand—has become second nature, thus insulating her from the utterly understandable panic such lapses tend to set off in others.

“I have never really thought about going out on the court and just trying to be consistent, not playing my game and just getting the ball back,” she said. “That hasn’t really ever been my philosophy, because the way that I win matches is by being aggressive, by using my power, by looking to move forward and playing that aggressive game. I don’t know if that’s something that’s gotten better over the years, but obviously the more consistent that you get at doing what you do best, the better you are.”

Sharapova will have to be plenty good come Saturday, because Williams was on fire in the other semifinal today, dismissing last year’s beaten finalist Sara Errani in 46 minutes, 6-0, 6-1. Williams hit winners on 40 of the 52 points she won, and on 58 percent of the match’s 68 total points. That’s serious knockdown power, and if she plays like that on Saturday, even Sharapova might find it hard to pick up and dust off.

Roland Garros: S. Williams d. Errani

Thu, 06 Jun 2013 17:47:00 +0000

You know when a match has really been a blowout? When the crowd doesn’t know what to do afterward. That was the case in Court Philippe Chatrier today, a place where the audience normally has no trouble expressing itself. But at the end of Serena Williams’ 6-0, 6-1, 46-minute thrashing of Sara Errani in today’s French Open semifinal, the tennis fans of Paris were left temporarily speechless. Rather than celebrating the American’s win, it sounded like they were having a moment of silence for the Italian.

That was understandable, because Serena barely allowed Errani to play tennis today. She won the first set in 21 minutes, won 52 points to her opponent’s 16, hit 40 winners against 12 errors, and, most impressive of all, only gave her opponent a chance to commit three unforced errors. Errani never even had an opportunity to make a mistake this afternoon.

This is, obviously, a good match-up for Serena. The undersized Errani lacks power and has one of the weakest serves in the upper echelon of the women’s game. Serena teed off on her returns and rarely allowed Errani to hit the ball from a balanced position. By the end, Williams was hitting hard and deep enough that she didn’t even have to aim for the sidelines to hit the ball past her speedy opponent. Serena did only make 52 percent of her first serves, but that isn’t really a problem when you’re winning 88 percent of points on your second serve.

Maria Sharapova, Serena’s final-round opponent, said she would watch some of this match; let’s hope she didn’t stick around for the whole thing. Can we expect more of the same when Serena and Maria meet on Saturday? Most likely, yes; Serena beat Sharapova 0 and 1 in the Olympic gold medal match last year. It’s possible, though, that after this semifinal Serena’s own expectations could be a little too high for her own good. She got nervous after losing mere points to Svetlana Kuznetsova in the quarterfinals, and she almost did the same today in the first game of the second set against Errani. Serena would do well not to expect to win every single rally against Sharapova, but right now I can't blame her for thinking it might happen.

The French Four

Wed, 05 Jun 2013 21:28:00 +0000

On the one hand, this year’s men’s semifinals at Roland Garros have given us a surprise. With David Ferrer and Jo-Wilfried Tsonga facing off in one of them, we’re guaranteed to see the first Grand Slam final to feature someone outside the Big 4 since Tomas Berdych reached the Wimbledon final in 2010. On the other hand, these four should be no surprise at all. They've clearly been the Big 4 of the last two weeks. Ferrer, Tsonga, Novak Djokovic, Rafael Nadal: None of them dropped a set in their mostly lopsided quarterfinal wins, and all four appear to be in something close to peak form. It’s tough to go wrong in men’s tennis at the moment.

Two Scyllas, two Charybdes—neither of these matches has a clear favorite, in my opinion. Let’s take a look at what might tip them one way or the other.

*****

(4) David Ferrer vs. (6) Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
Head to head: Ferrer leads 2-1 overall, and 1-0 on clay

For two guys who have been on tour for at least a decade, Ferrer and Tsonga have very little history against each other. Each has spent the last few years seeded in the 5-8 range at Grand Slams, and has typically lost to one of the Big 4 somewhere along the way. Which makes this a monumental match for each of them. It’s the best chance that the hard-working, long-suffering Ferrer has ever had to reach a major final, and it’s Tsonga’s best chance since he made the championship round at the Australian Open in 2008. Each of them may have wondered over the years what life would have been like without the Big 4 around. Now they’ll find out.

Judging from what he said after his quarterfinal, Jo is feeling confident. He says he has the game right now to take it to Ferrer, and the rallies will reside on his racquet. Why wouldn’t Tsonga be confident? Off the top of my head, I can’t remember seeing him play as well as he did against Federer since he ran Nadal off the court in the Melbourne semis in ’08. And that was more of a circus-act victory, while his win over Federer was solid and methodical—Tsonga moved well, anticipated well, hit every shot with confidence, never stopped attacking, and never lost his cool or appeared to feel the home-court pressure. It felt, for the first time, as if Jo believed that he should be beat Federer. If he has that attitude against a 17-time Slam winner, he’ll probably feel the same against Ferrer.

Should he? If anything, Ferrer has been even more solid and methodical than Tsonga in Paris. The Spaniard has yet to drop a set, and he’s rounded into second-week form like a champ (or a boss, if you prefer): He won his fourth-round match over Kevin Anderson 6-3, 6-1, 6-1, and his quarterfinal over Tommy Robredo 6-2, 6-1, 6-1.

Tsonga will have the crowd, but no one enjoys a Davis Cup atmosphere more than Ferrer. As Tsonga says, the result will probably be up to him. We have a good idea of what we’re going to get from Ferrer. The question is: Did the Federer win signal a new, improved, more efficient and collected Jo? If so, he can win. If not, he’ll lose.

The Pick: Ferrer in four sets

*****

(1) Novak Djokovic vs. (3) Rafael Nadal
Head to head: Nadal leads 19-15 overall, and 12-3 on clay

Which is a more important factor in making a prediction? Current form, the surface in use, or the specific qualities of the head-to-head match-up? Your answer might determine who you take in Rafole XXXV.

Looking at those categories again, though, it might not be so simple. Who is in better form? By Wednesday’s evidence, most would say Nadal. He gave up just six games in a steamroll session over Stan Wawrinka. After a nervous start to this tournament, Rafa played his best tennis in that match. His history at Roland Garros tells us two things: First, he gets on a roll; second, he wins the tournament. He’s already made one of them happen.

Djokovic wasn’t quite as efficient in his straight-set win over Tommy Haas on Wednesday. Form-wise, though, Nole could be a special case here. He’s playing in the wake of the death of his first coach, Jelena Gencic. It’s an emotional burden, but from what I’ve seen and heard so far, it has only made his determination to win this tournament for the first time more unshakeable.

As far as the surface and conditions go, there’s no question that clay, especially French clay, is still Nadal’s turf: He’s 12-3 against Djokovic on dirt for their careers, 4-0 against him at Roland Garros, and 57-1 there overall. If the forecast holds for Friday, the weather should also benefit Rafa. It's supposed to be the hottest day of the tournament, which will help his shots jump even more than they normally do.

Judging by their career head-to-head record, you might think Rafa owns the match-up advantage as well. But he doesn’t; that, for the time being, goes to Djokovic. We know how frustrated Nole made Nadal throughout 2011, and he did it again when he beat him in straights, on clay, in Monte Carlo in April. Nadal has won virtually everything in his comeback so far this year, but he’s 0-1 against Djokovic.

I would guess that Novak will begin the same way he began that match, by rifling returns and trying to get Nadal on his heels right away. It worked last time, as the two of them returned to their 2011 baseline dynamic—Djokovic controlled the rallies, especially with his backhand, while Nadal searched in vain for an answer. This is where current form can be deceptive. To beat Wawrinka, a man who has never won a set from him, Rafa had to do what he always does. To beat Djokovic, who takes him out of his game with his speed, consistency, and backhand, Rafa will have to do something different. It’s up to him to turn the rally dynamics with Nole back in his favor, as he did in 2012.

Djokovic will come in with a deep sense of purpose: To bring home the Roland Garros trophy in memory of Gencic. By contrast, I think Nadal will come in fairly relaxed. He’s won his share of titles here, obviously, and there’s no greater cause that I can see him playing for at the moment. That should work in his favor.

One wild card: The Djokovic serve. It was unusually brilliant in the quarters, and he said he hopes he can keep it up on Friday. Another serving day like Wednesday would make life much easier for him.

Pick: Nadal in five sets

Follow the Nadal/Djokovic semifinal with us during a live chat on Friday at 7 am EST.

Armageddon, The Sequel

Wed, 05 Jun 2013 19:59:00 +0000

PARIS—They labored under suddenly friendly skies here in Paris today, separated by a distance that could almost be covered by a good offensive lob. Rafael Nadal was dismantling Stanislas Wawrinka on Court Philippe Chatrier, while over in Suzanne Lenglen, Novak Djokovic was laying a hurt on the closest thing the tour has to a senior citizen, 35-year-old Tommy Haas.

Each man was a little too busy paying attention to the task at hand to think much about the other, but in their own ways Nadal and Djokovic were rushing headlong toward a destiny that nobody needed to articulate—a semifinal match Friday at Roland Garros, in the latest installment of the rivalry that has come to dominate the tennis headlines.

Djokovic handled Haas with workmanlike precision despite a few lapses, none of which proved particularly dangerous. Meanwhile, over on Chatrier, Nadal was hellbent on squeezing every potential bit of confidence for Friday out of the hide of Wawrinka. Nadal has been chasing “improvement” here like a dog chasing its tail. The difference is that Nadal sometimes catches his.

Djokovic, the top seed, gave up 14 games and had to navigate a tiebreaker before he won in straight sets. Nadal allowed Wawrinka just six games in a 6-2, 6-3, 6-1 win that lasted under two hours. Djokovic took 17 minutes longer, and quit the court eight minutes after the last wave of applause on Chatrier washed down over Nadal.

That left the men in a good position to go out to dinner together, although it’s more likely that they’ll spend the night huddled in a dark closet in their respective hotel rooms, sticking pins into voodoo doll representations of each other.

Neither man likes to delve too deeply (or, at the very least, too publicly) into the psychological conflicts that underlie this rivalry; each of them likes to play it cool. For what it’s worth, though, Djokovic won the battle of the press room. He looked relaxed and comfortable as he fielded questions, sparred playfully with a few of his interlocutors, and said of the pending clash:

“I look forward to it. You know, it’s not the first time I’m playing him. We played over 30 times. I’m sure that we know each other’s game really well. . .This is it, you know. This is the biggest matchup of our Roland Garros 2013 campaign for both me and him. I guess it’s the small details and few points that can decide a winner, and that’s why I need to be very disciplined and focused in order to get emotionally, physically, and mentally ready for that match.”

Djokovic praised Nadal’s “love of the sport” and told us how Rafa’s unyielding nature is an impressive virtue that inspires his respect. He also fired a shot across Nadal’s bow when he declared that he’ll take some confidence into Chatrier when the time comes, a residual benefit from his impressive, straight-sets (6-1, 7-6 [1]) win over Nadal a few weeks ago in Monte Carlo.

“That is something that can maybe give me that mental edge when I step onto the court,” Djokovic suggested. “That knowing I already won against him on clay this season, knowing I can do it, even though not many players in last ten years have won against him on this surface, and he’s been the most dominant player in the history of this sport on this surface.”

As for the X’s and O’s, Djokovic downplayed the notion that the match will turn on the efficacy of his backhand (which in some quarters is the conventional wisdom) and chose a more holistic approach. “It’s not only about that shot, but everything has to work in harmony. Everything has to be synchronized and you can’t have many ups and downs throughout the match. . . I know what it takes to win against him and that’s what I’m going for. I’m going to win. That’s the mindset.”

By contrast, Nadal looked twitchy as a jackrabbit in coyote country when he came to visit with us. Before you Djokovic fans start punching the air, keep in mind that Nadal tends toward the jumpy at the best of times. But you know with this guy that when his brow is furrowed and his left eyebrow leaps up to form a crescent above his eye, he’s busy trying to work something out in the back of his mind. And that eyebrow was raised for almost the entire interview. His words came out at intervals, as if he were shutting a faucet on and off, and that familiar, pained smile constantly flickered across his elastic features.

Nadal made an effort to disabuse us of the notion that we are about to witness Armageddon: The Sequel, come Friday. He reminded us: “It is not the finals; it’s the semifinals. That’s the difference at the end. You are not playing a match for a title. You are just playing a match to be in the final. So is a big difference. Sometimes it’s a little bit strange, but that’s how my mentality sometimes works.”

As for Monte Carlo, Nadal had had a salvo of his own to fire. “Every match is different history,” he reminded us. “We’re going to play here in Roland Garros; we’re not in Monte Carlo. This court, and the feeling to play this court, is always a little bit different, I will say.”

But Nadal added a disclaimer that softened his warning: “I know he’s going to play well too because he’s the best today, and I hope to play well here.”

That sounded no more convincing to me here in Paris than it does to you at home. Sometimes, it must be hard for these guys to take the high road that has become the route of choice in this collegial era.

But don’t let Nadal’s equivocation fool you. After all, as the seven-time French Open champion he’s entitled to feel a little jittery; nothing this great lasts forever, although on the evidence the juggernaut hasn’t slowed yet. That was clear in Nadal’s match with Wawrinka, which represented a significantly better performance than he delivered in his previous matches. Wawrinka played well, he even threatened a few times. But Nadal slammed the door shut. So if Djokovic won the battle of the press room, Nadal had a slight edge in the war on clay.

For days now, Nadal has stressed that he needs to get better. He feels he’s accomplished that goal. He said his rivals have spurred him in this quest to improve even as the sands were running through the hourglass.

“I made the improvement against Nishikori (in the previous round), and today I made another important improve. In my opinion always I played at a very good level (today). To win against a player like Wawrinka is impossible with this score if you don’t played at a very good level.

So take your pick: The guy treading water, externally calm and confident, or the fella who’ll go to sleep tonight feeling he’s peaking, that all the pieces are falling into place once again at the place where he’s solved the most complex of those athletic jig-saw puzzles. It may not be Armageddon, The Sequel, but it doesn’t feel much like just another semifinal, either.

Follow the Nadal/Djokovic semifinal with us during a live chat on Friday at 7 am EST.

Roland Garros: Djokovic d. Haas

Wed, 05 Jun 2013 18:05:00 +0000

Novak Djokovic is known as the best returner in the game, and he hit some memorable missiles with that shot in his 6-3, 7-6(5), 7-5 win over Tommy Haas in the quarterfinals on Wednesday. But this match was more notable for how dominant Djokovic was with his serve. He hit 11 aces and didn't double fault. He won 82 percent of his first serve points and 79 percent of his second serve points. Through the first two sets, he dropped just three points on serve and held at love seven times.

He was so dominant, in fact, that he made the match feel much more lop-sided than the score told us it was. Despite Djokovic's gaudy serving stats, he still had to scrape his way through a tense second-set tiebreaker to keep Haas from squaring things up. And that was no sure thing. Haas went up 4-2 in the breaker, only to give the lead, and essentially the match, away with three ugly errors. The worst of them was a putaway backhand volley that Haas popped long—instead of a 5-2 lead, he was back to 4-3. It was just one in a long series of botched forays forward for the German, who finished an unsightly 2 for 17 at the net. Otherwise, the 35-year-old Haas fought gamely in this match, made Djokovic work for each of the last two sets, defended well from way back in the court, and finally appeared to run out of gas in the last few games.

Djokovic played this one with what appeared to be a special determination and sense of purpose—he has vowed to win the tournament for his late coach, Jelena Gencic, who passed away last week. Today he began by gunning his returns and pressuring Haas in his opening service game, and he eventually broke him twice in the first set, each time by blitzing a forehand down the line for a winner. When Djokovic did falter later, he didn’t let himself slide for long. At 5-5 in the second-set tiebreaker, with the course of the match in the balance, he hit his best shot of the day, finishing a long rally with a cross-court backhand winner. In the third set, after twice losing his concentration and losing his serve, he calmed down right away and got back to grinding the older player down. Djokovic wasn’t flawless, but he was very good, even in the forecourt. He finished with 45 winners against 25 errors, and won 22 of 27 points at the net.

Haas’ run comes to an end, and with it go the last of the one-handed backhands from Paris. Djokovic moves on to a highly anticipated semifinal with Rafael Nadal. In one of his post-match interviews, the world No. 1, who has never won at Roland Garros, had already zeroed in on a key to that blockbuster: If he can serve like he did today...

Roland Garros: Sharapova d. Jankovic

Wed, 05 Jun 2013 18:04:00 +0000

PARIS—At her best, Jelena Jankovic’s defensive skills and counterpunching abilities can pose many interesting questions for Maria Sharapova. Now coming out of an extended slump, Jankovic showed she’s still capable of such interrogations—even if Sharapova can come up with all the answers, as she did today in a French Open quarterfinal.

Sharapova won the match, which lasted just over two hours, 0-6, 6-4, 6-3. Throw the first set out and it was a whale of a match, choc-a-bloc with rallies that were both long and skillful, superb serves and returns, and well-managed emotions that helped produce that rarest of WTA matches—one in which there were just two service breaks in the decisive set.

You would not have guessed that this butterfly would ultimately develop out such a wooly and ugly caterpillar. Jankovic held a long game to start the match and, surprisingly, lashed out to break serve with ease in the second game. Jankovic, who’s seeded No. 18, rolled through the next four games as well. Sharapova never even got to break point against Jankovic’s serve, and the surprising thing was that Sharapova didn’t serve all that badly—she made 78 percent of her first serves, and she hit but one double fault—but her ground game, and especially her backhand, was wretched. She hit 20 errors in that set alone.

Sharapova began to find her range in the second set. She had a break point in the first game, and Jankovic handed it to her with a double fault. In the next game, Sharapova belted four winners, three of them with that recently broken backhand wing. It was a signal that her form was turning around and improving. The good news for the spectators was that the improvement in Sharapova wasn’t accompanied by a decline in Jankovic’s game. Thus, over the next two sets we saw some of the best rallies of the tournament.

When Sharapova seized another Jankovic service game for a 4-1 lead, it seemed she might leave the Serb in the rear view mirror. But Jankovic, showing a degree of toughness many of us had forgotten she possessed, kept her composure. She managed to earn one break back in the eighth game, and won the next one to trail by just 4-5. But Sharapova uncorked three unreturnable serves and forced a backhand error to take the second set before things got too dicey.

The women settled in for a battle of holds distinguished by wonderful shotmaking for the next six games. Sharapova’s defense looked better than it ever has, and her ability to hold her own—and then some—in so many quality rallies against as mobile and precise and opponent as Jankovic was impressive. For her part, Jankovic served better than she has in ages. In fact, her second serve looked like less of a liability than ever before. And that dangerous down-the-line backhand—“It’s the shot that pays my bills,” she said the other day—has stabilized.

But in second-seeded Sharapova, the resurgent Jankovic was up against the defending champ and the most able of competitors. Thus it was Jankovic who ultimately blinked, while serving the seventh game of third set. From 15-30, Sharapova hit a terrific forehand passing shot that nulled Jankovic’s excellent approach, and she then nailed the return of an excellent serve so hard that JJ barely got the racquet in the way of the ball.

Sharapova wasn’t out of the woods yet, despite her 4-3 lead. Jankovic had a break point in the next game, which Sharapova wiped out with a powerful drive volley—but not before watching Jankovic lob back two of her smashes. But Sharapova held thanks to two backhand errors by Jankovic, and added an anti-climatic break in the final game to move on the semifinals.

Stat of the Match: Sharapova had just two double faults and just one ace (which was one more than Jankovic).

The Fads of France

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 20:21:00 +0000

By next week it may feel like a distant memory, one more cloud of red dust blowing around in the backs of our minds, but Monday’s fourth-round match between Stan Wawrinka and Richard Gasquet shouldn’t be forgotten by fans of great tennis quite so quickly. In a tournament that has given us its share of epics, that one stands above, in terms of drama, quality, and, most of all, audacity.

In Gasquet, we had a home-country favorite trying to put his past failures on the same court behind him; it’s doubtful this reserved young man has ever let himself get so far out on the emotional edge before. In Wawrinka we had a defiant opponent who was living on the same edge, and occasionally tumbling over it; at one point, Stan came unglued, called in the supervisor, and demanded that a line judge be replaced. Watching the two of them go for each other’s throats for five sets, the only term I could think of to describe the style of play was “flat out.”

That’s partly because of what the two players shared: A one-handed backhand. As we know, it’s a rare shot that seems to get rarer with each passing season. But that wasn't the case at this French Open. Eight of the 16 men who reached the fourth round used one hand to get there. In case you're wondering, this is in all likelihood not the beginning of a renaissance for the stroke. A pair of Top Tenners with two-handers, Andy Murray and Juan Martin del Potro, didn’t play the tournament, and each reached the quarterfinals in Paris last year. By Wednesday evening, when the semifinals are set, there’s a good chance that none of the four men left will use a single-hander. That’s actually a worse ration than normal, and could be a truer sign of things to come once Roger Federer, the last man to win a Grand Slam with a one-handed backhand, retires.

Yet those of us who love the shot still have reason to be encouraged by this surprising show of strength. That’s because it was a show of strength, proof that, whatever the current trends may be, the one-hander can hold its own. Tommy Robredo used it to reach out and stab back Gael Monfils’ best shots in the crucial moments of their third-round match. His fellow Tommy, Haas, used his to get his returns and passing shots down at big man John Isner’s feet in his marathon win over the American. The one-hander can be more than just eye-candy for tennis aesthetes.

But as Wawrinka and Gasquet proved, it does a fine job in that regard. It wasn’t the elegance of their backhands that made this match so much fun to watch; it was the way they went after the ball from that side. Gasquet and Wawrinka can each hit bombs with their backhands—the Frenchman's power is easy, the Swiss' is heavy. The two collided for five sets; by the fourth, neither man could be bothered with a safe rally shot. They went for broke and traded winners; there was little of the defensive give-and-take that characterizes much of men’s tennis these days. As the fifth set began, it didn’t look like either player had any bullets left in his weapon, but they kept firing anyway.

Stan and Reeshard also exemplified another, more legitimate and long-term trend that has made itself apparent in Paris: The aging of the sport. Gasquet and Wawrinka, at 26 and 28, respectively, aren’t ancient, but what’s remarkable, and a little worrying, is that each was on the young side at this year’s French Open. The average age of the 16 men who made the fourth round was 28.3. Of the eight quarterfinalists, Djokovic, the world No. 1, was the youngest. You get the feeling that Djokovic, 26, Murray, 26, and Nadal, 27, could rule for many more years.

Is this a good thing for tennis? It’s certainly something different. The sport has always been the providence of youth. In the Open era, players’ primes traditionally came in their early to mid 20s, and when they hit 28 they were on the wrong side of the age divide. Now 28, as Wawrinka, David Ferrer, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga and others are showing, can mark the beginning of a player’s peak years.

This tournament has been a good example of how that shift affects the way we watch men’s tennis. Instead of the brutality of youth, Paris has been the providence of the heartwarming comeback: Gael Monfils, Tommy Robredo, and Tommy Haas have taken their turns thrilling the crowds and stirring their memories. Meanwhile, the “next generation”—Grigor Dimitrov, Jerzy Janowicz, Milos Raonic, Bernard Tomic—failed to make much noise, or much headway. Dimitrov had his chance when he played Djokovic on Chatrier in the third round, but he went out quickly and quietly.

Is it a bad thing when the thrills at a Grand Slam are provided by a 35-year-old rather than a 21-year-old? No and yes—it’s a tradeoff. People feel good for Robredo and Haas; they may be able to identify with their struggles with age and injury, and their joy in overcoming them. We’re familiar with the old guys' ups and downs, their personalities and vulnerabilities; by now, we're on a first-name basis with them. That brings us a little closer to the players.

But the game also needs new blood, and a sense that there’s some kind of future forming. Robredo’s run was moving in part because we know it might never happen again. By contrast, if Dimitrov were to reach the semis of a major, it would be, presumably, a glimpse ahead. As of now, the progress of the next generation has been steady but slow—hopefully one of them will show us what he can do before he turns 28. There will be a future someday, but chances are it’s not going to announce itself with a blazing run to a Grand Slam title any time soon. Unfortunately, those blazing runs have always been the most exciting moments in tennis. Serena at the U.S. Open in 1999, Federer at Wimbledon in 2003, Maria at Wimbledon in 2004, Rafa at Roland Garros in 2005: We haven’t seen anything like that this decade.

For better and worse, the older tennis gets, the more heartwarming it becomes. The sport’s fans are notorious for disliking its upstart champions, only to embrace them years later as they become vulnerable veterans. We could use a few upstarts on the men’s side right now.

A Tale of Two Rogers

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 19:17:00 +0000

PARIS—A year ago at this time, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga was content to be that rarity in the upper echelon of the game, the elite player who eschewed traveling and working with a regular coach. Today, with the help of his mentor Roger Rasheed (whom Tsonga hired to help him this year), Tsonga crafted a resounding, 7-5, 6-3, 6-3 upset of No. 2 seed Roger Federer here at the French Open, and put himself within two matches of what has been well-nigh unthinkable for a quarter of a century—a French singles champion at Roland Garros.

Mulling over the changes he’s undergone in the past year after today’s match, Tsonga said, “You know, before I was alone. But I think it was important for me to be alone, and to understand that what I’m doing—to know I’m doing it because I like it. Sometimes it’s tough to have somebody with you. They expect a lot. But you don’t know if you expect the same things.”

Tsonga went on to explain how, during that period he spent alone, he came to understand how much he enjoys his profession, and how much he wanted to improve a game that has always had the earmarks of greatness. He then hired Rasheed, who had coached (among others) Lleyton Hewitt, in order to tap into Rasheed’s “passion for the game.”

It seems that keg was brimful, and that was manifest today as Tsonga relied on those familiar tools—the atomic serve, the piledriver of a forehand, along with a re-tooled and far more effective and reliable backhand, to beat Federer more convincingly on red clay than anyone other than his nemesis Rafael Nadal has done so late at a major event.

It ought to surprise no one that Tsonga was able to pull this off partly because his preparation included a session with Rasheed, studying just how Nadal masters Federer here. Unlike Tsonga, Nadal is a left-hander, but then breaking down Federer on clay isn’t rocket science. It usually comes down to executing on two fronts: Taking time away, and working on Federer’s one-handed backhand.

Easier said than done, to be sure, but Federer was spot on in his analysis after the match: “The French guys, they always have much more energy here. I thought Jo played great today. He was in all areas better than me today. That’s why the result was pretty clean. No doubt about it. I was impressed by the way he played today.”

What turning point there was occurred in the first set, with Federer up a break at 4-3 and serving. He pulled ahead to 40-15, but ended up broken. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Roger back together again, because Tsonga, knowing that his best chance lay in suppressing and ultimately smothering Federer, was up to the task. From that point on, Tsonga’s game was electric, and as the games rolled by, fissures appeared in the Swiss’ game—and resolve.

Kept under constant pressure, Federer’s chin dropped lower and lower as the chant of “Tsonga, Tsonga, Tsonga” rang louder and louder. He went for a little too much with the backhand, attacked the net a little too soon, and made a hash of a surprising number of smashes. “Missing smashes goes hand in hand with missing so many other things,” he said. “You know, sometimes you get the overhead and you get a bit anxious and things just don’t go your way.”

That anxiety was not inexplicable; Tsonga more or less forced him into those mistakes because he was on fire with desire, and the French crowd just threw more fuel on the flame.

Tsonga was unrelenting, and he shattered—at least for now—our long-standing image of him as a spectacularly talented pro whose mind was prone to wander and, particularly in long matches, leak focus and determination. There was no letdown today, no careless game or temptation to take a break from the action and relax. Give Rasheed a fair amount of credit for that, too, for effecting that transformation was high up on his to-do list.

“Since couple of months, you know, I did a lot of effort,” Tsonga said. “I tried to manage my career as good as possible, and I was waiting for rewards because I’m practicing hard every day. And today, you know, I get the rewards.”

But as big, gratifying, and patriotically satisfying as this win was, we’re still left with the very question Tsonga himself phrased for us the other day, when he described what he needed to do at this stage of his career: “For me, the real challenge is not to beat one (top player) but to beat several, one after the other.”

Enter, David Ferrer, stage right.

With no disrespect intended toward Ferrer, I don’t think he was the player Tsonga had in mind when he articulated his mission. Ferrer may be the most under-appreciated No. 4 seed we’ve seen at a Grand Slam event in some time. And he’s the one Tsonga will have to bump out of the way in order to finish this tournament with a chance to accomplish those back-to-back victories over iconic rivals. This task won’t have the aura of glamour that might attend a match-up with Nadal or a Novak Djokovic, but that will only make Tsonga’s assignment more difficult. Keep in mind that Ferrer is ideally positioned to realize his own long-deferred dream of playing for a Grand Slam title, and the man now standing in his way is ranked lower (Tsonga is No. 8) and enjoys nothing like Ferrer’s reputation as a clay-court demon.

Anyone who’s even the least bit tempted to underestimate Ferrer need only look at his scores at this tournament. He hasn’t lost a set, and only one player (Feliciano Lopez) has gotten as many as five games off him in a set. Today, he beat Tommy Robredo, who made history here as the first man in the Open era to come back from a two-set deficit in three consecutive five-set matches, allowing him all of four games in a three-set win. Robredo put it bluntly after the loss: “David is a machine.”

The machine is taking his usual, low road into the semis. When a Spanish colleague pointed out to that he’d lost a grand total of just 40 games thus far and asked for a comment, Ferrer answered: “Well, I have no comment. I made to the semifinals. That’s the second time in my career. I’m very happy about this. I feel in very good shape at the moment.”

That’s about as verbose and analytical as Ferrer gets, although he did give a rare (for the tour), honest opinion about what he will need to do to topple Tsonga:

“His first serve and his forehand are very powerful. I’ll have to play long (deep) and on his backhand, because if he starts serving well and hitting his forehand, he is a very difficult player.”

Tsonga will have one extra day to bask in the glory of what he accomplished today, because the men’s semifinals are on Friday. Perhaps it’s only fair, for the obstacles looming ahead are formidable.

Roland Garros: S. Williams d. Kuznetsova

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 15:26:00 +0000

PARIS—Anyone who’s felt that Serena Williams needed to be tested at this French Open, either for her own sake or for the sake of the WTA’s reputation, got their wish on this bright, cool, and sometimes blustery day.

Hitting a wall after she roughed up Svetlana Kuznetsova in the first set, Williams struggled mightily before she put all the scattered pieces back together again to win the quarterfinal match with her fellow former champion. Once again, when the chips were down, Williams flipped them back over and survived a risky undertaking in two hours, 6-1, 3-6, 6-3.

But those scores also point toward the true nature of this clash, which is that it wasn’t as close and competitive as it may appear. That’s because the shifts of momentum and form in this were obvious, dramatic, and somewhat artless. It wasn’t until the very last few games that both women managed to play at a high level at the same time.

You can pretty much throw the first set of this one out the window. Williams fought off two break points in the very first game and then swiftly broke Kuznetsova at the first opportunity with a drop shot winner. It was off to the races for the top seed, as she rolled to a 3-0 lead and soon thereafter 5-2. The winners poured off her racquet, while Kuznetsova struggled to keep the ball in the court.

That first set lasted just 28 minutes, but Kuznetsova must have been over-hydrating because she took a bathroom break as it ended. Has there ever been a match in which the winner had to take a bathroom break after a first set? These breaks last unconscionably long; my own feeling is that they ought to put a port-a-potty right on the court (incorporate it into the umpire’s chair?); who needs this gamesmanship?

Anyway, the momentum shifted drastically upon the resumption. Kuznetsova held with ease and broke Serena without even having to play a deuce—thanks to a Williams double fault at 30-all followed by a backhand error off a serve return. Kuznetsova did a good job holding a lead despite the break point Williams earned in the next game, and she broke again for 4-love. Now, it was errors streaming off Williams’ racquet, while Kuznetsova found her range. Her inside-out forehand was especially deadly at this stage of the match.

Williams return ensures that no service game is safe, and she did manage to break Kuznetsova twice in the next three games. But Williams also was broken in that string. She managed a solid hold to claw back to 3-5, at which point I probably wasn’t the only one thinking she might slash her way to the straight-sets win. But despite falling behind love-40 when she served for it, Kuznetsova managed to reach the safety of deuce (thanks to two Williams errors and a second-serve ace) and, in short order, serve out the set.

That had to be a sobering moment for Williams, who looked to be in big trouble. She made just eight winners while clubbing 13 unforced errors in that second set. And at the start of the third it looked as if she might not be able to withstand the heat Kuznetsova was applying. Williams’ timing seemed off; even her serve and return lacked sting. She was broken in the first game of the deciding set with a pair of errors, one forehand, one backhand. When Kuznetsova held for 2-0, the situation looked grave for Williams.

Then came the second, massive shift of momentum—and the most important game of the match.

Williams won a five-deuce game in which she stared down three break points. The second of those chances for Kuznetsova was the best point of the match. After a long rally, Williams hit a stiff and tentative smash that Kuznetsova retrieved, and after the ensuing scramble, the Russian just missed the sideline with a drop shot. Williams got out of that game with an inside-out forehand winner so powerful that Kuznetsova, wrong-footed, fell over as she barely got her racquet on the ball.

Williams was back in the hunt at 1-2; her savage cries of “Come on” only confirmed it. Was anyone really surprised that, after that critical hold, she broke Kuznetsova as if she were a dry stick?

Although they were theoretically dead even at 2-2, Kuznetsova’s game began to crack. She did earn a break point in the next game, but blew it thanks to a forehand error. Two more miscues by Kuznetsova enabled Williams to hold, and from 3-2 the American broke serve once again.

There were some good points played over the final three games, but Williams would not be headed. The ending was short and sweet, as Williams rolled to 40-15 in the final game and ended it with a cross-court forehand drive from just behind the service line.

Stat of the Match: Williams hit 37 winners—18 more than Kuznetsova was able to produce.

Roland Garros: Jankovic d. Hampton

Tue, 04 Jun 2013 12:30:00 +0000

PARIS—It’s never too late to make a rookie mistake. And Jamie Hampton made a whopper today, even if, technically speaking, there’s no such thing as a rookie in tennis. But this was Hampton’s first Grand Slam fourth-round appearance and—there’s no polite way to put this—she made a mess of it, losing in just over an hour to No. 18 seed Jelena Jankovic, 6-0, 6-2.

I feel alright putting it that way because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Hampton is much, much better than that.

Of course, Hampton was in a tricky situation. She had just upset No. 7 seed Petra Kvitova in the previous round. She was in the second week of a major for the first time, and she probably envisioned playing on Suzanne Lenglen before a packed house in full sunshine—especially as the previous three matches had raced by, or looked to be doing so until Stanislas Wawrinka found the inspiration to rebound from a two-set deficit to beat Richard Gasquet in overtime, 8-6 in the fifth.

Among other things, that unexpected development ensured that Hampton had to sit around the locker room for a long, long time. And it meant that when Hampton finally walked out there, the light was fading, the air was damp and chilly, and only the hard cases were willing to stick around for more tennis. One of those fans, a leather-lunged Serb actually appeared to have an impact on the match, although there’s still no rule against shouting at the top of your lungs to encourage your idol.

There’s no point in the blow-by-blow. Hampton was out of it almost from the start, flatter than the champagne some of her fans might have uncorked 48 hours ago to celebrate her upset of Kvitova.

Hampton found many ways to lose points. She botched mangled sitters, drove approach shots into the net, and consistently found the doubles alley with her groundstrokes. Meanwhile, Jankovic just took care of business and happily watched her opponent implode. The first set was over in 26 minutes but, believe it or not, it lasted that long only because Hampton mustered the skill and will to fend off three set points before she succumbed to the fourth.

At that point, I probably wasn’t the only one thinking that this might be one of those matches in which the combination of Hampton’s ineptitude—and Jankovic’s focus—was such that there was bound to be a massive swing back the other way. It happens more often than you might think, and Jankovic herself has been known to lose hold of the plot.

For a while, it looked as if that might happen. The American broke Jankovic to start the second set, thanks to a double-fault, followed by a Hampton forehand winner. Hampton then forced a long second game, and even though she was broken, it was just what she needed to slow things down and settle in for a stand.

Unfortunately, the Jankovic partisan fluffing his Serbian flag and exercising his lungs seemed to get to Hampton in the next game. Hampton forced it to deuce twice, and reached a break point. When she hit a lob out and the Jankovic fan let loose once again, Hampton exploded, seeming to direct her anger at him, although later she said that her outburst had nothing to do with the man. “I’ve dealt with that kind of thing before,” she said.

Still, she then made a forehand error to allow Jankovic to advantage, and botched a forehand second-serve return error to give up the game. She would win just one more game the rest of the way.

It may seem unfair to Jankovic to focus this story on Hampton, but her meltdown at this stage of the tournament seemed a much more notable aspect of the match than Jankovic’s steady, crisp, play. Hampton had eliminated Jankovic at Indian Wells the last time they played, and today’s result was a measure not just of how comprehensively Hampton fell apart, but also a tribute to how far Jankovic has come in this current resurgence.

We’ll have time to take a closer look at Jankovic’s fortunes in the coming days.

Bouncing Back

Mon, 03 Jun 2013 16:02:00 +0000

PARIS—At just 5’10”, Philipp Kohlschreiber is taller than a Jack Russell terrier, but not by all that much—and that advantage would be considerably reduced if, like the dog, he had to walk and run around on all fours. Kohlschreiber can be just as feisty as that terrier, though, and as difficult to dislodge once he sinks his teeth and clamps his jaw shut, as he showed on Court Philippe Chatrier in a fourth-round dogfight with top-seeded Novak Djokovic.

Seeded No. 16, Kohlschreiber is a 29-year-old who compensates for his lack of heft and power with an extremely versatile game. He’s another charter member of the BOHBC—the Beautiful One-Handed Backhand club—and he was the fourth member of that fraternity still kicking at Roland Garros at the start of this second week (the others are president Roger Federer, Richard Gasquet, Tommy Haas, and Stanislas Wawrinka).

Once Kohlschreiber takes a notion and brings all his skills to bear, he can inflict a lot of pain and prove hard to shake. Perhaps that was why Djokovic periodically twirled toward his support team after losing a point and flung his hands in the air, clearly asking, “What is up with this guy?????”

This was a particularly ugly day to play tennis, a circumstance that could not have improved the mood of Djokovic. The sun peeked in and out of the clouds, while periodic gusts of wind made an already chilly day seem frigid. It didn’t help that the collective hangover from an exciting weekend left almost the entire lower portion of the stadium close to empty. These were bleak conditions that may have mirrored Djokovic’s emotions less than 48 hours after he learned of the death of the woman who discovered him, designed his game, and made the young Serb believe that he was destined to be a great champion. Her name was Jelena Gencic and she passed away Saturday at age 77 back home in Serbia.

Djokovic looked like a man whose mind was elsewhere at the outset of the match, and Kohlschreiber took full advantage of it. As steely as his battleship-gray kit, Kohlschreiber immediately began firing all his cannons. Over the first four games, he successfully outdueled Djokovic in the latter’s stock in trade: Long rallies of escalating pace and power, often turning on or ending with an abrupt change of the ball’s direction. A break seemed inevitable, and it came to pass in just the fifth game. From deuce, Djokovic made a backhand error to end a rally and then Kohlschreiber tagged an un-returnable overhead to take a 3-2 lead.

There was no reason for Djokovic to panic, or check up on when he’d last taken a rabies shot. But as the ensuing games melted away, his play remained unconvincing while Kohlschreiber’s continued to shine. Djokovic made a big push for a break when Kohlschreiber served the 10th game, but was rebuffed twice at break point, and that was the first set, 6-4 to Kohlschreiber.

Djokovic is one of those players who has a great talent for calibrating his game as a match goes on, ratcheting up the stakes in rally after rally until the margin of error all but disappears. Although Kohlschreiber stayed on the pace for the next three games, Djokovic won a war of four deuces in the fifth game to break for 3-1. The key, though, was the next game. It contained seven deuces and four break points. Twice Djokovic produced a lusty roar after getting back to deuce, but it was hard to tell if it was an expression of triumph or a howl of pain from the way Kohlschreiber refused to let go.

Djokovic held on, though, and emerged with a 4-1 lead. But he found himself struggling again after a Kohlschreiber hold. Warned for a time violation, he hit a double fault that gave his opponent two break points at 15-40. It was at exactly that time that the terrier loosened his grip. Kohlschreiber suddenly began making forehand errors. Not “just missed” miscalculations, but prodigious, wild errors that enabled Djokovic to hold and serve out the set uneventfully, 6-3.

“The conditions were very difficult to handle both for me and him, but he adjusted better,” Djokovic would say of the early portion of the match. “In the start he was more aggressive. I was, you know, still trying to find the rhythm on the court, and, you know, the first set was gone. Obviously, I needed to step it up, and I've done that.”

Mindful that he was the victim in Kohlschreiber’s only career win against a Top 5 seed at a Grand Slam (it was here, in 2009), Djokovic added: “I needed to earn my victory, and in the end it was good. You know, I’m really glad to get through, because he’s a good quality opponent and he’s a specialist for this surface…it was an important win.”

Able to breathe more freely and run without that terrier dangling from his leg, Djokovic broke again in the third game of the third set, and that marked the point where he assumed command that would never really be threatened again as he ran out the match, 4-6, 6-3, 6-4, 6-4. But if you doubt that Djokovic was much troubled by Kohlschreiber, consider these stats: Nole had just eight break points compared to Kohlschreiber’s whopping 13. The winner converted 50 percent of his, while the loser broke just twice (for a 15 percent success rate). Given that Djokovic’s first-serve conversion rate was an excellent 74 percent while his opponent managed just 55 percent, it isn’t a reach to say that top seed got off lucky.

Well, Djokovic certainly deserved whatever break he could get following the unexpected death of Gencic—news that his team withheld from him on Saturday for fear of upsetting him right before he went out to play Grigor Dimitrov.

Djokovic was touching and articulate in his post-match presser, so much so that I’ll return to the subject of his relationship with Gencic in a separate post before the tournament is over. But for now let’s just say that Djokovic threw the customary caution about such things to the wind when he was asked if Gencic’s death might provide him inspiration in the tournament going forward. He replied:

“Absolutely. I feel even more responsible now to go all the way in this tournament. I want to do it for her, also, because she was a very special person in my life. I remember the last conversation we had, two weeks ago, about Roland Garros. You know she never held any words (back), not to me or to anybody close. That’s why people respected her, because she was honest and open.

“She told me, ‘Listen, you have to focus, you have to give your attention to this tournament. This is a tournament you need to win.’ You know, she was giving me this kind of inspiration and motivation. So now I feel in her honor that I need to go all the way. But, you know, again, it’s not about me only. There are so many great players around still in the tournament. It gives me that inner strength, you know, to push even harder.”

Those were bold and powerful words from an emotional, determined young man—one with a dog’s loyalty and enough heart to make good on his promise.

Tsonga’s Time to Shine?

Sun, 02 Jun 2013 22:17:00 +0000

PARIS—Maybe it’s the fact that, by contrast, he looks so. . . well fed—more ham than ham actor. Maybe it’s that with his severe flat-top he looks more like a first lieutenant than a hipster you might find footloose in the Bastille district. Or perhaps that “thumb dance” and the combination punches he throws after a win are a mite too aggressive, or insufficiently “artistic,” for the fickle French.

Whatever the case, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga may have the attention of Parisians, but Gael Monfils has always had their hearts. Tsonga likes to spend time in the country, fishing. Monfils trolls the clubs and streets, just as popular with the under-30 crowd as he is with the older French set. The French love the “bling-bling” of Monfils—the disparaging term was borrowed from hip-hop and coined to describe former French President Nicolas Sarkozy—his spectacular game and his showmanship, but even his staunchest fans will admit, when pressed, that Tsonga has a much better chance to become France’s next, long-awaited Grand Slam champion.

At this moment in time, that’s a self-evident truth. Monfils is back at home, presumably resting from the three physically and emotionally draining performances he logged at Roland Garros last week. Tsonga is still banging away, and now he has to march into the lion’s den, having locked up a quarterfinal berth with yet another uneventful, workmanlike, very un-Monfils-like win over Viktor Troicki of Serbia.

Tsonga won the match, 6-3, 6-3, 6-3, thereby keeping his straight-sets streak alive. He hasn’t dropped one yet at this event and passed this, his toughest test yet, easily. He put 77 percent of his first serves into play and never had his serve broken (he faced just three break points) by a guy who’s built on a comparable platform, two inches taller at 6’4”, but considerably leaner and lighter. “You know, for me it’s easy now, Tsonga said afterward. “Everything is positive. I’m in quarterfinal here in Roland Garros for the second time. I mean, I have nothing to lose, anyway.”

Of course, he would have had more to lose—but an easier assignment—had Gilles Simon managed to upset Federer in the match that immediately followed Tsonga’s on Chatrier. As it was, even the hope that Simon had softened up the No. 2 seed for Tsonga by extending him to five sets were dashed when the winner strolled into the press conference room shortly after the match, looking fresh as a daisy and feeling frisky as a colt.

In between some amusing exchanges with reporters (more on that at a different time) he happily announced: “Now I know clearly how I stand, I feel fresh. It wasn’t like a four-and-a-half hour five-setter, but I’m happy I never felt tired. I always enjoy these battles because they give you information—physically, more than any other way. Sometimes you go through a few tournaments without having a five-setter. I feel good.”

This was probably the first time in history that any player has groused about not getting enough five-set matches, and it suggests that even if Tsonga can force a long match, he can’t count on Federer’s age, or residual fatigue, to help him. Simon wasn’t exactly the best preparation for a match with Tsonga, Federer admitted, but that wasn’t overly daunting. “I think Jo is best on hard courts, but I know he’ll have the crowd with him here, and he’s moving better than he ever has on this (clay) surface.”

Tsonga knows exactly what he’s up against, not just in that intimidating record the all-time Grand Slam champ will bring to their quarterfinal—today’s win was Federer’s 900th; only three men have won more—but also in the specific situation.

“It’s almost another sport altogether,” the Frenchman mused on Grand Slam tennis. “I’m probably going a bit too far in saying that, but we had (Grigor) Dimitrov yesterday. Is he going to fight Djokovic in the Grand Slam? It’s a different thing altogether to fight Djokovic in Madrid, or elsewhere, because you’ve got less mastery, less control of what’s going on, as opposed to here (at a major).”

Tsonga was in an expansive, jocular mood in his press conference, with a firm grasp of what his ultimate mission here is—potentially, to accomplish something he hasn’t done yet: Beat two or more of the top players in successive matches. In this, he was surprisingly forward thinking, but not in an arrogant way: “I know that these are exceptional players. There are not fifty like them. Now, beating one, I know that I’m able to do that. Beating two, well, for the time being, I have never done it.”

Tsonga has two wins over Federer, one of them in a stunning rebound from a two-set deficit at Wimbledon in the 2011 quarterfinals. The man waiting to usher him out of the semifinals that year?—Novak Djokovic, against whom Tsonga had four match points before losing in the quarterfinals here last year.

If Tsonga’s chances have improved since then, it’s on two fronts. His backhand has been more reliable, and he’s not as prone as in earlier years to go soft in a long match, losing that requisite, fierce attention to every opportunity—and every potential pitfall.

“I have been working on my backhand since I was the age of five,” Tsonga said, just half in jest. “And it’s a disaster, my backhand, so I’m working on it. And I have worked on it since I was small, since I began my tennis career. But I’m increasingly solid. I don’t make many unforced errors with it. Now, it’s not the shot of mine that shines. It’s not where I will shine to make good points. But it’s not a shot where I make lots of unforced errors anymore, either.”

Indeed. Tsonga has been firing on all cylinders here, commanding with his serve, lethal on the forehand wing, ever ready to move forward and end points in the forecourt. But will his synapses fire as faithfully, steadily, and consistently as they must for him to go where no French player has gone since 2008, when his domestic rival Monfils made the semifinals?

It’s a good question, and one that leaves even Tsonga uncertain. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve got no idea. There are so many different parameters to the question. It could be the opponents I have met who weren’t necessarily as good as those I met in previous years, or is it not that? I don’t know. I have got no idea. For the time being I’m just playing my tournament, and, quote/unquote, the real business-like stuff is starting from Tuesday.”

This may be Federer’s 36th straight Grand Slam quarterfinal, but you can bet that Tsonga is hoping that come Tuesday, it will be anything but business as usual at the office.

Battle of the Incompletes

Sun, 02 Jun 2013 14:09:00 +0000

PARIS—On the surface of it, today’s fourth-round match between No. 8 Angelique Kerber and No. 39 Svetlana Kuznetsova was a quality encounter ending in a significant but by no means puzzling or shocking upset. If you’re up to speed on your tennis, you know that Kuznetsova, who won, 6-4, 4-6, 6-3, is capable of anything, if not always the good, right, or smart thing.

The former French Open champ is one of the museum-grade head cases of the WTA. Quicker than her stumpy size suggests and blessed with a fetching combination of power and touch, she’s also a genuine character—soulful and quirky, seemingly averse to great success as well as convention. She seems to carry a dark cloud around with her, ever-ready to pop it open overhead when the going gets too easy, or good. Some say this makes her distinctly Russian, but perhaps they’ve read too much Dostoyevsky.

This being tennis, those traits of Kuznetsova’s spill over into her game and help explain why she’s been such a “now you see me, now you don’t” player, saddled with a habit of self-sabotage. It’s admittedly a little screwy to discuss a two-time Grand Slam champion in such almost disparaging terms, but then, how often does someone with such dazzling credits end up finishing inside the Top 20 just once since she won Roland Garros in 2009? (And that just barely: Kuznetsova was No. 19 in 2011.) Injuries played a part—but only a part—of the story.

Kuznetsova’s opponent today isn’t a comparably complex character. Kerber is a robust German who discovered self-belief in late 2011 and has spent a year-and-a-half making up for lost time. She did an impressive job belting her way into the Top 5 by October of last year, but she’s incomplete in many ways. Unlike Kuznetsova’s, Kerber’s flaws are conspicuously technical.

Kerber’s groundstrokes are good to superb, and she’s an excellent retriever, but not a great mover. And despite the advantage of being a lefthander, her serve—especially her second serve—is a glaring weakness. How a girl who can whale on the ball can have so little Oooomph! to her serve is a mystery. Those shortcomings have put Kerber under a lot of pressure to hold her vaunted place; these days, you can almost hear the screech of her fingernails as she slips, ever so slowly, downward on the face of the cliff, from No. 5 to No. 6 to, now, No. 8.

It was a bright, cool, windy day in Paris, and the stadium was populated mostly by gate stewards when the women walked out to kick off the program. Kerber was kitted out in the blue-and-yellow Adidas flavor of the month, while Kuznetsova wore an outfit designed by Albus Dumbledore. Dark blue with a pattern suggesting clouds in the moonlight, it lacked only a wand as an accessory, but Kuznetsova made do just fine with her Head (that’s the racquet, not some poor critter’s noggin).

This was a match of numerous break points—25 in all, 13 of them against Kuznetsova’s serve. But Kuznetsova has a Merlin-like ability to vary the pace and tone of your typical rally, as well as on-demand power and the ability to hit her way out of a jam. She used those qualities to keep Kerber at bay for most of the two-hour and 20-minute match.

This also was one of those matches in which the women played hot potato with the lead, with back-to-back breaks in every set. In the first set it was in the seventh and eighth games, after which Kuznetsova held and then broke Kerber exactly as you might expect: On the final two points, she hit a backhand service return winner and then a forehand inside-out service-return winner. Sveta’s hero moment was qualified only slightly by the fact that they were second serves of 119 and 124 K.P.H., respectively (74 and 77 M.P.H.).

Still, Kuznetsova didn’t want to be denied the credit she’s due after the match, when she said of Kerber’s puffball serve: “It is kind of not fast serve, but it’s lefty serve. It’s not that easy as it looks maybe. Sometimes she can go wide on that serve to the forehand, especially on the deuce side. She risk it sometimes. You just try to take the most advantage you can and not like 100 percent to go for risk, you know.”

By that point, a theme had emerged. When the women held one of the frequent rallying contests, Kerber’s defense edged out risk-taking Kuznetsova’s variety. But when other factors came into play to shape a point, Kuznetsova usually prevailed. “I knew before the match that it will be tough, tough one,” Kerber would say. “Even when she misses one point or one ball, she’s still always there.”

Kuznetsova held the first game of the second set, then broke Kerber. But the lack of discipline that is also a hallmark of Kuznetsova’s game emerged once again, and she gave the break right back. Kerber broke her in the seventh game, and held on to serve it out. It was a set in which Kuznetsova felt she didn’t play with sufficient risk and allowed Kerber too much latitude to counter-punch.

“I think I should have played better in the second set, you know, but when I was in front I was a little bit stopping myself. Then it was very important not to do the same mistake in the third set. I think it was just too much returning. Then in the third set I just thought I would play longer rallies, just I would go for my shots when I have better opportunity.”

The third set also began with a pair of breaks; fittingly, this time it was Kerber unable to consolidate. By the fourth game of the set, the quality of the rallies had declined significantly, and that would work in Kuznetsova’s favor. She held serve to take a 2-1 lead and struck with a quick break.

The next game was the turning point in a match that had all the earmarks of a shootout in which there wouldn’t actually be one. Kuznetsova fell behind 15-40, but an unreturnable forehand and cross-court forehand winner that came off Kuznetsova’s racquet like rifle shots brought her back to deuce. Kerber would have one more break point in that game but Kuznetsova dismissed it, and went on to hold with an inside-out forehand winner.

That pattern-breaking hold damped Kerber’s enthusiasm, and the next four games rolled by uneventfully, until Kuznetsova served it out at 15, winning on a down-the-line forehand winner. The comparisons to 2009 were inevitable later on, and a reporter asked if Kuznetsova felt any pressure in that regard, or if she was content to continue to “fly under the radar”?

“I don’t care,” she said, smiling. “Whatever. I just go out there and play my game. Sometimes I can be very good. Sometimes I just have bad days. I’m just human being, maybe even more than other people. Just trying to do my job. And I don’t care if I’m under or not under or flying or standing or whatever it is. I just go out there and try to play my game.”

Serena Williams probably will put a lot more strain on that game than Kerber did today; perhaps Kuznetsova should return to Hogwarts and see what else Dumbledore can cook up before that meeting takes place.

Racquet Guide 2013

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 18:35:00 +0000

The challenge to today’s racquet consumer isn’t that there are too few choices; it’s that there are so many. Go to Web sites of major retailers, and you can choose from more than 300 recent models, each with its own mix of specifications—from head size, shape, length and weight to balance, beam width and string pattern. Add in other key variables that affect performance and feel, such as string (according to the U.S. Racquet Stringers Association, there are more than 800 strings on the market) and tension, and the permutations are seemingly endless.

And that’s not even starting to consider the plethora of manufacturer technologies, which can alter racquets’ playability even further. While most companies this year are integrating existing developments into new makes and models, several racquet makers are unveiling new innovations in 2013. Head, for example, has re-engineered its latest performance racquets with a cutting-edge material called Graphene, whose lightweight, super-strong properties, the company says, allows for optimal weight redistribution and enhanced power and maneuverability. Wilson, meanwhile, as part of its Steam line, has debuted Spin Effect, an unorthodox 16x15 string pattern that, when paired with a monofilament, increases string movement and spin. And Tecnifibre says they’ve brought their T-Fights up to the standards of the ATP World Tour, namely by tightening manufacturing variances and injecting the racquets’ handles with vibration-damping silicone.

Indeed, navigating so much information makes hunting for new sticks daunting. Thankfully, this year’s racquet guide gets a handle on all this wealth of excess. That said, don’t purchase a racquet solely on the basis of our recommendation—treat the reviews as guidelines of racquets’ strengths and weaknesses, and demo those that are appropriate. If you’re in the market for a new stick, we suggest that you sample at least a half dozen potential candidates, then elect the frame that plays best. The notion of a “perfect” racquet is illusory. Even so, racquets are all different; some will undoubtedly mesh better with your game than others.

Finally, don’t underestimate how much string can affect a racquet’s playability. Beginners and others who hardly ever break strings would do best to use a soft, high-quality multifilament or, ideally, natural gut, both of which can go a long way toward improving comfort, reducing the likelihood of arm injury and maximizing shots’ power and depth. Fast-swinging players with Western grips looking for additional topspin might consider stringing with a monofilament (i.e., polyester) at low tensions (high 40s to low 50s in pounds). Compared to gut or multifilaments, monofilaments are generally harder on the arm—and so caution is warranted for players with a history of injury—but the increase in spin can be considerable. Talk to a knowledgeable tennis professional; he or she will be able to help select the string that’s right for you.

Happy hitting.

CLICK HERE FOR THIS YEAR'S REVIEWS

How We Test

We requested at least four samples of every racquet reviewed. Each model was strung with the manufacturer’s recommended string and tension to optimize the frame’s playing characteristics. Racquets were then distributed to playtesters based on their level of play. Tennis editors and recreational players participated in our evaluations, with Tennis’ racquet advisor Bruce Levine, manager of Courtside Racquet Club, in Lebanon, NJ, lending court time and expertise throughout the process. We also compiled quantitative data, such as racquet length, weight, head size, balance and beam width. That way, players can compare the frames’ specifications. (All relevant measurements correspond to strung racquets.)

We tested the racquets thoroughly, identifying possible matches for a variety of player types, ability levels and stroke styles—from short-swinging beginners who specialize in doubles, to intermediate power baseliners and advanced all-courters. Racquets were evaluated using a number of criteria, including power, control, comfort, maneuverability and overall playability. Each tester was encouraged to try a racquet for as long as it took to get a feel for its particular playing characteristics. In many cases, testers returned to a frame a week after they first hit with it just to be sure that they liked it.

CLICK HERE FOR THIS YEAR'S REVIEWS

The Specs

To make it easier to compare racquets, we’ve filled this chart with all of the pertinent technical information. Head size is the area of the racquet head in square inches. The bigger the head, the bigger the sweet spot. Length is from the cap of the handle to the top of the head. Longer racquets provide more leverage on serves and greater reach on volleys and groundstrokes; shorter racquets are more maneuverable. Stationary weight is how much the racquet weighs when strung. A light racquet will be more maneuverable, a heavy frame more stable. Swingweight is a guage of how heavy the racquet feels when you swing it as measured by a Racquet Diagnostic Center; the lower the number, the greater the maneuverability. Construction refers to the extent to which the racquet flexes on impact. A flexible frame bends more and gives you additional control and feel, while stiffer beams offer more power but less control. By taking into consideration both RA measurements and playtesting experiences, we categorized frames as flexible, firm, stiff and very stiff. In the Balance column, HH stands for head heavy and HL for head light. Pt. stands for 1 point, which represents a 1/8th inch difference between the racquet’s balance and its midpoint. Beam width is a measure of the thickness of a racquet’s sidewalls. Some frames have a constant width (one number), while others taper from one width at the top of the head to another at the base of the head (listed as two or three numbers). Thick racquets are usually stiffer and more powerful, while thin frames tend toward greater flexibility and richer feedback. String pattern lists the number of main strings (up and down) first and crosses (side to side) second. The tighter a string pattern, the stiffer and more control-oriented the string bed is; the more open the string pattern, the looser and more powerful the string bed. Ideal swing is the type of swing for which the racquet is best suited. Typically, beginners have more compact, slower strokes and advanced players have longer, faster strokes. NTRP recommendations will help you target racquets that are appropriate for your skill level.

Bonus: Which Racquet is Right for Me?

This useful chart can point you to the frame best suited for your game.

CLICK HERE FOR THIS YEAR'S REVIEWS

Question of the Day: Tensioning Outermost Strings

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 13:24:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

Your recent piece about how to tie stringing knots was helpful, but it left me wondering how to tension final mains and crosses. For example, when pulling the last cross of a one-piece stringing job, right before clamping and tying off the knot, do you advise increasing the reference tension (in order compensate for potential knot-related tension losses)? Or should last strings be pulled at the same tension as all the others?—Bill V.

*****

On this question, Bill, I’ve seen stringers go both ways. Some will pull an extra few pounds of tension on those strings immediately preceding knots—so as to make up for lost tension when that knot is tied and the clamps are released—while others keep the tension consistent with the rest of the stringbed. Often, the stringer’s technique depends on the preference of the player he or she’s stringing for; many players don’t like their outermost mains and/or crosses to move, in which case a stringer will crank up the tension on those strings to keep them in place.

That said, the smartest approach to this question is, most likely, to not pull that extra tension. As the U.S. Racquet Stringing Association argues, with a good deal of persuasion in their Techniques Manual, “[We do] not recommend this procedure because shorter outside mains [and crosses] don’t require as much pull-tension to be as tight as longer, center [ones]…In short, we suggest normal tensions on tie-offs, which may result in some tension loss on the outermost main (or cross). If customers complain about this string being too loose, you can explain that these strings are far away from the racquet’s sweetspot. Also, mis-hits will actually be less jarring if outer mains are not tensioned as high as the center mains. Stringers who are intent on increasing tension on tie-offs should not go higher than 5 pounds above normal tension.”

In my opinion, it’s this last bit—on the positive correlation between high tensions and jarring mishits—that’s the most compelling reason not to overtighten outside strings. So keep your tension in a normal (i.e., consistently low) range. The next time you frame a shot, your arm will thank you.

Question of Day: Tennis in the Elements

Fri, 19 Apr 2013 13:23:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I’ve always been interested in weather phenomena surrounding sports, especially their effects on competitions. What comes to mind when you think about this in tennis?—Tom B.

*****

Interesting, Tom. No doubt you’d agree that weather is the ultimate x factor in sports. It’s a variable that acts indiscriminately, playing favorites only in the sense that it reveals those athletes with, or exposes those without, the wherewithal to make adjustments. You only have to think back to last year’s blustery U.S. Open semifinal between Tomas Berdych and Andy Murray. After a morning full of rain, the wind picked up, and Berdych, as he admitted afterwards, couldn’t cope. His high toss became a liability, both technically and psychically.

Then there’s just the weird. I imagine most sports fans carry, somewhere in our minds, a repository of bizarre sports-weather lore. Most of mine grows out of stories told to me by my father, a Philadelphia native. I think about Eagles fans, in 1968, pelting Santa Claus with snowballs at half time. Also the Flyers losing their arena, in 1978, when high winds took apart the roof of the Spectrum. And finally, on an extremely windy day in 1976, there’s Mark Edmondson, ranked just No. 212 in the world, upsetting defending champion John Newcombe for the Aussie Open title.

For many, Edmondson’s victory remains the biggest upset since the inception of the ATP rankings, in 1973. (Edmondson was ranked so low, the story goes, that he had only months earlier taken a job as a janitor to fund his travels.) But surely, Ed. v. Newk. is also up there in terms of adverse weather conditions. As Randy Walker tells it, in his book On This Day in Tennis History, the players couldn’t take the court until half an hour after the scheduled start time, because of “45 mile-per-hour wind gusts and a temperature drop ‘from 104 degrees to 79 in five minutes.’” High winds persisted throughout the match until Edmondson sealed the win, becoming, to this day, the last Australian to win his native tournament.

Any weather-related memories of your own? Draft out a comment, and share them with us below.

Question of the Day: Cooked Racquets

Thu, 18 Apr 2013 15:55:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I tend to stow my racquet bag in the trunk or backseat of my car while I’m at work. But as it’s getting hotter down here in the South—and even hotter in parked cars—should I be worried about the heat affecting my racquets’ and strings’ playability? Or is this not too big of a deal?—Peter J.

*****

This is common but important question, Peter, to which the answer is pretty straightforward: For the health of your racquets and strings, you should never stow your racquets in a car on a scorching day. Nor should you, for the same reason, check your racquets with an airline when flying. As the authors of Technical Tennis explain, “Ten minutes in a really hot car will drop the string tension by at least a few pounds, permanently. The string tension will rise a fraction in winter, or in a fridge, but it won’t rise back to the tension before you cooked the strings. If you travel overseas with your racquet, take it on board the plane with you (if you are allowed). Ten minutes on the tarmac will ruin your string tension, and it might even soften the frame.”

“In some of these cars,” says Hunter Hines, Dunlop’s Director of Product Development, “it can get to be over 150 degrees in the summertime, sometimes even hotter. It depends on the material and so forth, but as it gets hotter, it’s going to change the tension maintenance and elasticity properties of a given string. The other thing is, when you’ve got a racquet in a hot trunk, and there are strings in it under tension, those strings may loosen differently at different times. As a result, the frame can bend out of shape, compromising its structural integrity."

Question of the Day: Reducing Jarring Mishits

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 15:10:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I’m a club-level player, 3.5 or thereabouts. I want to know how I can stop my racquet from stinging my hand on mishits. Not that I mishit all the time, but when I do, it is not a comfortable feeling. I currently use a Babolat Pure Drive strung with RPM Blast at 60 pounds.—Bert C.

*****

It’s never a fun day, Bert, when you’re mishitting the ball badly; not only do the resulting shots go awry and take on undesired trajectories, the impacts themselves can really jar the hand. It goes without saying that the best way to do away with this feeling is to improve your technique; learn to hit the ball on center, and the jarring will cease. As we all know, however, that’s easier said than done. So what’s there to do?

Consider the following: Lower your tensions. Physicists have established that, for a variety of reasons, stiffer (i.e., tighter) strings play a sizable part in intensifying “bad vibrations,” especially at the edges of the stringbed, where, due to the shorter lengths of the strings, tension can register even higher. Indeed, according to physicist Rodd Cross, in The Physics and Technology of Tennis, mishitting the ball with stiffer strings “cause[s] the handle to vibrate more and to slam into the hand at a higher speed,” in part because, compared to softer stringbeds, the ball rebounds more quickly.

What’s that have to do with anything? As Cross explains, when a tennis ball dwells on a stringbed for a longer period of time, it’s able to function as a gigantic vibration dampener, not just of string vibrations but frame vibrations as well. This is especially the case for stiffer racquets, like your Babolat Pure Drive.

Long story short: Try lowering your tension 10 to 15 percent. You may even want to experiment with natural gut or a high-grade multifilament string, as these tend to play much softer (i.e., less jarring) than poly blends like RPM Blast. Good luck.

Question of the Day: Basic Stringing Knots

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 14:31:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I’m currently learning how to string. One topic I don’t quite understand is knots. What’s the best way to make a tie-off knot? If you’re stringing in two pieces, how do you recommend tying a knot that starts the crosses?—Peter S.

*****

These are important questions, Peter. Knots are a crucial endpoint when stringing. Incorrect technique can compromise a string job by causing it to lose tension. Moreover, in worst case scenarios, bad knots can even cause a stringbed to fall apart completely—not something you want to happen when you’re in the middle of a match.

So let’s start with your first question: Tie-off knots. For most stringers, these knots, which secure the ends of main strings and/or crosses downstream of tension, are best tied using a double half hitch. As the U.S. Racquet Stringers Association makes clear, “To tie a half hitch, remember the word ‘OUT.’ Thread the string Over, Under and then Through—then repeat the procedure again and you’ve completed the knot.”

Indeed, doubling up on the half hitch is important, as single hitch knot is liable to come unfastened or sink deep into the grommet, due to its simple configuration and small size. When installing a very thin string, like an 18 or 19 gauge, it may even be advisable to tie a triple half hitch—that is, three consecutive half hitches—just to make sure that the knot doesn’t slide down into the grommet hole.

Also remember, after tensioning the last main or cross, to leave yourself at least 10 to 12 inches of string to tie-off with. There’s nothing more frustrating than being unable to finish the knot, because you’ve clipped the string too short or measured the entire length of string incorrectly. To tighten the knot, the best approach is to use hand-held pliers. While some use the stringing machine to tension knots, if not done with care, the tensioner can place too much pressure on the knot, causing it to break. Finally, after the knot has been secured, clip the tail down below the racquet’s sidewall, so that it’s about 1/8th to 1/4th an inch long. Cut the length too long and leave it above the sidewall, and the tail may cut the player; cut it too short, and the knot may slip out of place.

As to your second question: A different knot, apart from the half hitch, is required when tying knots at the start of crosses. (These knots are only necessary, as you note, when working with two pieces of string.) Starting knots, unlike tie-offs, are designed to be larger to, again, prevent against slipping down into the grommet hole, as well as resist breakage upon first tensioning the string. (“A starting knot,” the USRSA explains, “does not place pressure on the anchor string.”)

Stringers, over the years, have devised a number of different starting knots. The “figure-eight” and “fishing” knots are two that are commonly used; the former is among the bulkiest, and is good for stringing racquets with big grommets, while the latter has the advantage of being, in USRSA terms, “free floating,” meaning that “it can be pulled against the frame without tying the knot to an anchor string [as] you’re tying it against itself.”

For diagrams of the standard tie-off knot, a.k.a. the double half hitch, as well as three viable starting knots, see the above diagrams, excerpted from the USRSA’s Racquet Service Techniques Manual.

Question of the Day: Posture Shirts

Mon, 15 Apr 2013 15:01:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I recently have been suffering from some upper back and shoulder pain, which I think is affecting my tennis. In particular, I feel a bit hunched over when I serve, and have been losing velocity on that shot. I think this may be a result of extended time sitting in front of the computer at work. What are your recommendations?—Albert C.

*****

This is a complex question, Albert. Make sure that you meet with a licensed physician and/or physiotherapist. Understanding the etiology of your pain and how to treat it—including, but not limited to, practicing specific exercises that target the upper back and shoulders—should be some of the first steps you take. It also might be a good idea to cease tennis activity and rest your body for some time.

Having said that, one idea to consider implementing is a posture shirt. According to Todd Ellenbecker, a physiotherapist who works with the ATP Tour, hunching of the back or shoulders can be markers of scapular dysfunction and/or general shoulder debility. Interestingly, many physiotherapists believe that, in addition to daily shoulder exercises, posture shirts can help the upper body assume a healthier position, namely by forcing the shoulder blades back. (For more information about exercise and injury prevention for tennis, visit the USTA's Strength and Conditioning page here.)

As Ellenbecker described the shirts, in a conversation last fall, “Going on a diagonal from your shoulder back along to the middle of your spine, right over the top of the shoulder blade, there are these re-enforced, thicker fabrics. They’re relatively tight. So when you put the shirt on, they actually pull you back. If you’re sitting on a computer right now, chances are that you’re sitting in a slumped posture. Imagine putting on a tight shirt that makes you sit up straight and squeeze your shoulder blades together...Dr. James Andrews, in Birmingham, Alabama, actually did a research study that found that Little League throwing athletes who wore posture shirts increased their velocity by 1 M.P.H.”

One example of a posture shirt is the adidas Techfit Powerweb (MSRP $55; see above photo), a nylon and elastane compression top that, according to the company, is fortified over the scalpular for better posture and form.

Question of the Day: What is "Construction"?

Fri, 12 Apr 2013 13:39:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

In your articles, you talk a lot about racquets’ “construction.” What are you referring to?—Albert B.

*****

A racquet’s construction, Albert, is often used as a synonym for its flexibility, i.e., the extent of the frame’s rigidity—specifically, how far (and how fast) the frame bends and then springs back (or beyond) its original position on impact with the ball. In general, rigidity corresponds to beam width. Racquets with thinner beams (~19mm to 23mm) are more flexible; racquets with wider beams (~24mm to 30mm) are stiffer.

While there are exceptions to the rule, by and large, manufacturers tend to design flexible racquets for more advanced players and stiffer racquets for beginner- to intermediate-level players. Accordingly, compared to stiffer racquets, flexible racquets tend to be heavier, balanced more head-light, and have smaller heads, all of which make them, overall, less powerful and forgiving on off-center hits and harder to swing.

(Of course, in recent years, these categories have started to blur, as many touring professionals have taken a liking to racquets with thicker, stiffer beams. See, for example, Victoria Azarenka with the Wilson Juice, or Rafael Nadal with the Babolat Aeropro Drive, both very stiff frames.)

Product Profile: Lock Laces

Thu, 11 Apr 2013 12:32:00 +0000

MSRP: $7.99, pair; $19.99, three pairs

Website: locklaces.com

Facts
Made from the same elastic material as bungee cords, Lock Laces are water-resistant, long-lasting shoelaces designed to provide a secure and comfortable fit beyond that offered by typical cotton or nylon laces. The company claims that, due to its spring-loaded, easy-to-adjust drawstring construction, Lock Laces do not come loose during competition, training, and/or everyday wear, reducing the chances of lace-induced spills. Lock Laces also provide sustained compression across the foot, increasing oxygen flow and athletic endurance, according to the company. Of use to runners as well as tennis players, the laces come in 13 different colors, from black and brown to cool gray, hot pink, and orange creamsicle. Each retails for $7.99 per pair.

Impressions
Lock Laces, for all intents and purposes, look to be comfortable and convenient on and off the court, blending the easy appeal of slip-on shoes with the additional security of conventional laces. They’re also easy to install: Thread them through your shoes, pull through a cord lock, adjust with scissors and snap a clip on the end, and voila—you’ll never have to tie that pair of shoes again. What’s more, the wide spectrum of 13 colors makes it easy and fun to complement the colors of your shoe collection. While great for high-performance athletics, L.L.s are also a good fit for kids, seniors, and individuals with limited dexterity and/or special needs.

Question of the Day: Illegal Racquets

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 20:18:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I was reading your piece about illegal racquets. I’m curious how this applies to tournament match play. For example, say we played a sanctioned league match, you won, but I found out afterwards that you’d used an outlawed racquet—like the liquid-filled Dynaspot—would you have to forfeit?—Jeremy B.

*****

Although it’d be in bad taste, Jeremy, given you discovered the illegality after our hypothetical match concluded, I wouldn’t be required to forfeit the win. See Comment 4.1, in the USTA’s rulebook, Friend at Court. As it reads:

What happens if it is discovered after play has begun that a player has been using an illegal racket or an illegally strung racket? All points played stand. The player must find another racket before continuing play. A player is subject to code violations for delay under the Point Penalty System. If the discovery occurs after the match is over, the match still counts.

This is in keeping with one of the central tenets of tennis, namely that all points played in good faith stand. Technically speaking, it’s illegal to dole out penalties to a player who used illegal equipment post hoc.

Note, however, that the above shouldn’t be read as encouraging the use of illegal racquets. It wouldn’t be in good taste, or good faith!

Overture in Carolina

Wed, 10 Apr 2013 14:44:00 +0000

CHARLESTON, S.C.—The breeze blows, and the air is tinged with salt. You can just taste it, stinging the tongue, the balmy off-gas of mud and silt, which run in rich brown striations across the brackish waters of the Cooper River, tidal feeder to Charleston Harbor and the Atlantic out and beyond. The breeze pushes north in saline currents, hopping up above the shore, skipping against auto windshields and along the rainbow bends of I-526, now finding its way toward these very confines, here, on Daniel Island, flowing above mazes of parked cars and clustered sponsor demos, tussling with flaps and sleeves and masses of hair, swirling lazily around the madeleine-shaped tops of corporate entertainment tents, and right now cascading over the stadium's tiers, permeating Billie Jean King Court, where it undulates in soft sighs the skirt of Serena Williams, defending champion, who’s just walked through the stadium’s tunnel into the applause of 7,000-odd people. She’s standing on the court’s periphery, along with Jelena Jankovic, her Serbian opponent, waiting for ESPN’s signal to crunch across the ground’s pulverized, green-marine stone toward her chair, to contest the final of South Carolina’s premier WTA tournament, the Family Circle Cup.

Look up, and the sun is beating down in the mid 70s, through a bright blue sky that’s just barely smudged, here and there, by a few wispy, cotton-lint clouds. The temperature isn't disagreeable, but the sun is patently Southern, the light like someone’s turned the contrast knob way up, taken the grey monochromatism of the Northeast winter and bathed it in a palette of glistering orange. The light’s so incredibly bright practically everyone in the stadium, excepting the players, has given up trying to see it. Its solar intensity, unmediated, wastes unprotected ciliary muscles and sends eyelids into squint-induced seizures.

I’m sitting down courtside—in Box 39, in front of a small placard, named for the presently absent “Pink Panthers”—just completely immersed in a sea of white folk, hats everywhere. There are caps that say Gamecocks and Prudential and College of Charleston—the patrons’ tickets stuck to the brims—visors in green camouflage embroidered with Bass Pro Shop, up-side-down baskets with big straw brims fit for golfing at Augusta National, and women in sun hats all over. They expand into geriatric fields, these sun hats, their circumference and floppiness seeming to correlate positively with the wearers’ age and lowcountry allegiance.

It’s just now past 1 p.m. Back on the rubico court, the contenders are still standing by the player tunnel, taking turns telling an ESPN anchorwoman that she plans to “just go out there and play my game.” Both stand very still. They stare out at nothing, stoic, like veteran runners before a long race, anticipating trial and pain. Finally, the TV people give the signal, and the players receive another loud but polite applause as they start the march toward their chairs—actually, plush sky-blue couches—built from a sturdy-looking, mahogany-colored wood.

Upon each step, the players' quads contract into taut, thewy rectangles. Alongside them walks a hairy man of average height, shouldering a camera and trailing an assistant with lengths of cord. The man films mere feet from the faces of Williams and Jankovic, which remain natural and expressionless and afford these men the gravity of gnats. Photographers, facing the players from the chair’s far side, snap shutters through lens attachments the size of traffic lights, generally forming what looks to be a series of ginormous periods, as we all shift glutes in our seats and reach into pockets for camera phones.

The players finally arrive at their chairs, then drape towels over and sink back into their cushions. They root through their bags with a kind of efficient nonchalance, futzing with waters and plastic bags and racquets wrapped in plastic bags, putting straw around their little courtside nests. Another set of cameramen, their long, telescopic Canon DigiSupers not shoulder but swivel-mounted, work on the outer wings of each player’s nest, filming the futzing. These men sit in black-leather office chairs, typical fare from Staples, which they kick around in tight semi-circles like a 10-year-old kid in daddy’s office. The one closest to me, a white-bearded Jerry Garcia look-alike, wears call-center headphones and one those safari, neck-flap hats, color tan. He looks Cyborgian, hands and eyes conjoined to the machine. He never steals a glance outside its view.

Jankovic and Williams now meet across the net for proceedings with Kader Nouni, today’s chair umpire. A coin flips. Williams wins the toss, elects to serve. They about face toward the baseline, handbags at dawn, and begin the warm-up. It’s striking, Serena’s expression: It’s somewhere between indifference and boredom, formed downstream of zen-like concentration, or perhaps calculated intimidation, or maybe even a certain competitive hatred. I can only guess. She wears a neon orange top with elbow-length sleeves that pops in the sun and clings tight to her chest and bra, as well as a dark blue skirt that covers most of her bum, while still. Her brown hair, headband-secured, frizzes out toward her shoulders like overhanging Spanish moss. Jelena is in a peony pink dress, her own hair drawn back ghastly tight into a ponytail. It's like her hair’s painted onto her forehead, it’s so tight, exacerbating the atypical longness of her face. In between rallies, she fiddles her strings and exhales from little mashed-potato cheeks.

Ball girls become mechanical pitching arms, bouncing balls to the players, and soon they’re rallying, jumping rope with their feet. Their shots’ speed and trajectory are similar, but not their strokes. Serena’s groundies proceed in stages—her racquet, a Wilson Blade 104, prepares early and pauses a moment at the motion’s apex, before sweeping through the ball—while Jelena’s, while not exactly more fluid, are more continuous; her Prince, in blacked-out cosmetics, traces uninterrupted circles through the air. Both hold their racquets with Western forehand grips and employ two-handed backhands, the present custom on tour, but Serena’s strings ping a few decibels higher on impact than J.J.’s, marking differences in tension.

Nouni, donning 80s-style stunner shades and a short-cut Afro, sits up in the chair—a kind of children’s car seat, made from white plastic—and calls “time.” His voice is deep and gravid with occasion; it’s James Earl Jones with a French accent, that’s his timbre. The players thump the backstop with a few more serves, and then futz around some more with various implements at the chair. Soon after, they’re back out on court, ready to “play.”

Wizened ushers rush to rope off entrances, as Jankovic positions herself behind the baseline, smoothing out the clay like an infielder before the first pitch. Williams receives balls from various feeders and sashays back to the line. The crowd grows susurrus. Jankovic bounces in place, her hair swinging back and forth like a clock pendulum on speed. Williams, palm down, now dribbles the ball with her racquet, loses it, and then starts dribbling another.

It’s 1:13 p.m. Jankovic is crouching forward, Williams too, tights exposed. Williams sets herself to serve, waits a moment, and then lifts the ball in the air, a spin-less yellow glob. A heartbeat later, and the ball's gone, at its peak velocity this point, smacked into play. In its place appears a poof of stone, which soon dissolves from view, scattered by the wind until settling back into the grit below.

Question of the Day: Managing Pain with Cold Therapy

Tue, 09 Apr 2013 13:56:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

What are your thoughts on managing pain, particularly knee pain? I’ve had reoccurring pain on my right patella during and after matches, but I’m reticent to start relying on anti-inflammatory medications. (I’m visiting the doctor soon.) Do you have any ideas that I could implement immediately?—Jerry L.

*****

Before considering my advice, Jerry, ensure that you meet with a licensed physician or physiotherapist. Professional consultation, to understand the etiology of your pain and how to treat it, should be the first step that you take. Further, assuming you’re still playing, and depending on the pain’s severity, common sense dictates that you should hold off on tennis for some time and rest your body.

That said, if you’re adamant on continuing to play, you should consider adopting cold therapy—i.e., icing. Consult any medical professional, and he or she will relay to you one of the truisms of injury prevention and treatment: RICE, an acronym that instructs players to Rest, Ice, Compress, and Elevate the affected areas. As Todd Ellenbecker, a physiotherapist with the ATP Tour, explained to me last fall, applying ice and compression to an injury doesn’t just reduce swelling; by reducing tissue temperatures, it increases local oxygen and blood flow, which is key to decreasing inflammation and acceleration recovery. The most effective time to ice a problem area is immediately following competition, for at least 20 minutes. But it also can help to ice at various times throughout the day, especially when the pain starts to become more apparent.

The traditional, cheap way to RICE is familiar to most athletes: Find a plastic bag, fill it with crushed ice, and place it on the injured area, preferably using some type of plastic wrap for compression. (Another route, albeit a nearly unbearable one, is to immerse your entire leg, up past the knee, in a bucket of cold ice water.) However, today, there are a number of products on the market that claim to provide an even easier and more effective way to RICE.

One such product is Hyperice, a high-tech ice pouch that allegedly works much better than the freezy packs or the ol’ plastic bag. According to the company, Hyperice prevents air pockets from building up between the ice and the affected extremity, maintaining compression and increasing the effectiveness of the treatment. The company says the product is currently being used by a number of players on tour, such as John Isner, Agnieszka Radwanska, Kevin Anderson, and Serena Williams. There are Hyperice wraps for multiple body parts—including the knee, as well as the elbow, hand, shoulder, and back.

Question of the Day: Switching Grip Sizes

Mon, 08 Apr 2013 14:07:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I have two racquets with different grip sizes. One is a 4 and 1/8th, another is 4 and 3/8ths. Is there any harm in playing with different grip sizes (tennis elbow, etc.)? Also, if I just added an extra replacement grip to the 1/8th, to build it up toward a 3/8ths, would I lose any feel with that racquet?—Anthony

*****

There shouldn’t be any physical harm in switching between racquets with different grip sizes, per se. (Other than possible harm to your match play, due to the jarring change in feel that a broken string in one racquet and the transition to another might occasion.) That said, it is generally acknowledged that smaller grip sizes, all else being equal, can present additional risks for injury. Interestingly enough, they can also present unique performance benefits.

As I wrote last year, on the advantages and disadvantages of different grip sizes, a smaller grip allows a player’s wrist greater range of motion during her swing. This can be positive, especially for skilled players with Western-style games; extra wrist flexion, coupled with good technique, can translate into accelerated racquet pronation while serving and a faster, freer wrist on groundstrokes, both of which can increase pace and spin. It’s no wonder that many top players, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal included, choose to play with grips that are narrower than the standard, 3/8ths circumference.

However, at the same time, tiny palettes like your 4 and 1/8, by allowing the wrist all that extra movement, can stress the wrist and other tendons throughout the arm, including those that contribute to tennis elbow. This is why racquet technicians instruct sufferers of tennis elbow, along with other advice, to use a thicker, softer grip.

As for whether building up the 1/8th to a 3/8ths with extra grip will cost you “feel,” it really depends on how you understand the term. If feel, as tennis physicists Rod Cross and Crawford Lindsey define it, is the “combined effect of the shock force on the arm plus vibrations of the racquet frame,” then, yes, a thicker grip will reduce feel, as it dampens the sensation of impact. (In this sense, leather grips, as I’ve written, heighten feel, because they allow vibrations to pass relatively unimpeded from the racquet through the grip and into the hand.)

But on the other hand, if your sense of “good feel” is playing with a bigger, rounder grip, then logically the change will be for the better. Personally, I think of good feel as my ability to discern the handle’s bevels, or edges; in my experience, playing with additional replacement grips and/or overgrips is a bad recipe for good feeling, as a thicker grip mutes those edges. But that’s just me.

As you decide on your grip size, don’t forget the obvious: A grip should be comfortable, and it should fit your hand. If you have gigantic, Ivo Karlovic-type hands, obviously you’re going to need to bump up the grip size. Conversely, players with petite digits shouldn’t struggle to hold onto an oversized grip for fear of injury. (For more information on finding the correct grip size, click here.)

My final recommendation would be to consult a knowledgeable racquet technician in your area. He or she should be equipped to effectively build-up your grip, whether with extra grips or a heat-shrink sleeve. Depending on the racquet and the technician’s competency, it may even be possible to switch out the handle for another that’s more to your liking.

Question of the Day: Lightweight, Flexible Racquets

Fri, 05 Apr 2013 12:02:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

Does anyone make "women's racquets” anymore? By this I mean a lighter racquet with a flexible frame. Currently, I use a Head Microgel Extreme Team strung with Wilson NXT Tour at 55 lbs.—Penny Maag

*****

While I understand the thrust of the question, Penny, I have trouble conceptualizing what “women’s racquets” would really feel and play like. Among women, just as there are a number of different playing styles and ability levels, so too are there a number of diverse racquet preferences. Yes, women, as a whole, do tend to use lighter racquets than men, recreationally and on tour. But doubtless, not all women enjoy flexible constructions; the popularity of certain stiffer, game-improvement frames attests to this.

That said, you’re right that lightweight, flexible racquets are a minority in today’s market. This is due to the fact that, for the most part, manufacturers make lighter sticks stiffer. Why? In part because, on off-center hits, light frames vibrate more than heavy frames, and stiff constructions are better than flexible ones at muting those vibrations, as the former bends less on impact. (Note, however, that flexible frames, not stiff frames, are superior at decreasing excess shock, which bears more responsibility for arm injuries than excess vibration.) If you’ve played tennis enough, you know that an awful mishit can really sting the hand; the culprit here is bad vibes. Filtered down through a stiffer racquet, that sting feels more like a bump.

(Of course, the best way to increase power, maximize comfort, and reduce the likelihood of injury is to regularly hit the sweet spot. As tennis physicists Rod Cross and Crawford Lindsey explain, in Technical Tennis, “The ball speed off the middle of the strings doesn’t depend on racquet stiffness because frame vibrations are not generated for such an impact. Thus, when you hit in the middle of the strings, there is no difference in power between a stiff or a flexible racquet.”)

Nonetheless, if you’re partial to a flexible response, and are looking to replace the Extreme Team with a frame from the same neighborhood, demo the Head YouTek Graphene Speed Rev. The Rev—though half an ounce lighter and a few points more head heavy than your current spec.—plays with a great deal of “give” in the hoop, which you should enjoy. (If the spec. difference is a problem, you or a racquet technician could easily add lead tape to the Rev’s handle, which would increase its weight and balance it more head light.)

However, if head size is an issue—the Team and Rev are 107 and 100 square inches, respectively—consider the Pacific X Force Comp, which measures 105 sq. in., is flexible, and weighs in below eleven ounces.

Question of the Day: Preventing Late-Match Burnout

Wed, 03 Apr 2013 12:55:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I’m a 3.5 player, baseliner, lots of topspin. I’m comfortable in practice, but playing a USTA match has always been a challenge. I usually start relatively strong, but my play fizzles at the tail ends of matches. Because of this, I have trouble closing out opponents. It’s like I get slightly tighter and out of sync as the match progresses. Any insight into how to stop this trend?—Bill S.

*****

Without a doubt, Bill, learning how to adjust mental and emotional states during the heat of battle is no simple matter. Not only does mental-skill development require practice; it requires strategies. In past columns, I’ve offered two different tacks to improving match focus: One, on the performance benefits of journaling regularly, and another detailing on how mental imagery practice can help curb on-court anxiety. Consider these approaches.

But for the sake of interest, let me offer a third, and perhaps more apt, approach to your late-match nerves: Physiological awareness.

In Mental Training for Peak Performance, author Steven Ungerleider, through a chapter on tennis, interviews Dr. Jim Loehr, a sports psychologist who’s coached Pete Sampras, Gabriella Sabatini, and a slew of other touring pros. One of Dr. Loehr’s major points is that, to maintain a positive mental and emotional approach over the course of a match—and by extension, high-level play—a player must allow his or her mind and body to recover not just during changeovers, but between each and every point. Intuitively enough, the primary marker for this recovery is heart rate. As Ungerleider explains,

Dr. Loehr says that if the heart rate stays high between points (during the resting and recovery zone), then the player is overstressed and headed for early burnout in the match. “The optimal condition between points is a stress/recovery balance, such that the heart rate is typically falling between points, the player is relaxed biomechanically, and breathing returns to normalcy,” he says. “Otherwise, if the EKG is up, the body will be tense, and that translates into tight muscle-reflex action and some bad tennis.”

Indeed, Bill, this kind of stress may be at the root of the problem: By remaining “hyped-up” between points and not getting adequate intervals of rest, you may be tiring mentally, emotionally, and physically as the match progresses, worsening your play.

Which raises the obvious question: How to relax? How to allow yourself a proper between-point recovery? The first step is simple awareness. When the point ends, notice your heart rate, and take deep breaths with the intent of slowing it. Additionally, re-instill belief in your abilities through positive self-talk and relaxed, confident body language. Between points, “[if] you hold the [racquet] too tightly or your jaw is clenched and you are ruminating about the last point that you messed up,” as Ungerleider notes, “then your muscles and emotional memory will contaminate the next series of points,” preventing your heart rate from dropping into that critical resting zone.

(One cool idea: To increase awareness of your match behavior, have someone video tape your actions between points. Says Dr. Loehr, “I want my young, old, amateur, and pro tennis players to see this sequence so that they can experience firsthand their emotions during this in-between-point period…If we can get them to rid themselves of those 3 1/2 seconds of negativity, hold their heads high, achieve new self-confidence, and prepare for the next point with a clean physiological and emotional slate, then we have done good work in our training.”)

All that said, as you put this training into practice, don’t neglect to exert yourself during points. Achieving this balance is tricky, but relaxing when the point ends doesn’t preclude playing hard when it begins. Good luck.

Child’s Play

Tue, 02 Apr 2013 15:03:00 +0000

These five junior racquets are light, forgiving, and appropriately sized. Designed to allow the games of young players to develop and flourish, each measures 25 inches, the maximum legal length for USTA ten-and-under tournaments. (For more information about selecting the right racquet for your kids, click here.)

*****

Babolat Pure Drive Junior 25
Price: $69
Length: 25 in.
Head size: 100 sq. in.
Weight: 8.1 oz. (strung)
String Pattern: 16 x 20

The Babolat Pure Drive Junior features the same cosmetic as the adult Pure Drive. With its light weight and mid-plus head size, the P.D. Junior is a good choice for eight to ten year olds (50” to 55” tall) who are just getting into the game, but are nevertheless serious about developing their swings. The racquet is also available in a 23-inch length—for children six to eight years old (45” to 49” tall)—as well as a pink cosmetic.

*****

Dunlop M3.0 Junior 25
Price: $79
Length: 25 in.
Head size: 98 sq. in.
Weight: 8.6 oz. (strung)
String Pattern: 16 x 19

The Dunlop M3.0 Junior is a good fit for children aged eight to ten. Like its adult-sized, 27-inch iteration, the M3.0 features a graphite construction, which, relative to aluminum frames, offers superior performance and feel. What’s more, the stick is available in a 26-inch length, which, while not compliant with USTA 10 & Under regulations, suits children aged 11 and up who are not quite ready for an adult-sized frame.

*****

Head Speed 25 Comp
Price: $50
Length: 25 in.
Head size: 102 sq. in.
Weight: 8.5 oz. (unstrung)
String Pattern: 16 x 19

Head’s offering for eight through 10-year-olds is the Speed 25 Comp. Also legal for tournament play, the graphite stick is light and agile, and features a sharp black-on-white graphic. It’s also sold in a 23-inch length for kids six and seven years old.

*****

Völkl Junior Organix 6
Price: $60
Length: 25 in.
Head size: 100 sq. in.
Weight: 8.3 oz. (strung)
String Pattern: 16 x 19

USTA eligible, the Völkl Junior Organix 6 is designed to jell well with green juniors in the midst of skill development. Völkl says the 6 features a graphite construction, lending the stick additional stability, as well as the Optispot vision system—highlights in the three and nine o’clock positions that provide points of reference to the sweet spot, thus helping players connect with it.

*****

Wilson Steam Junior 25
Price: $109.99
Length: 25 in.
Head size: 98 sq. in.
Weight: 8.3 oz. (strung)
String Pattern: 16 x 16

The new Steam Junior features a lightweight, maneuverable design, as well as a unique, 16 by 16 string pattern. According to Wilson, this symmetrical string pattern offers additional spin potential and power, much like the 16 by 15 patterns built into the adult-sized, Steam 99S and 105S models. The Steam Junior also comes in 21-inch and 23-inch models for smaller children.

Question of the Day: Flared-Out Grips

Mon, 01 Apr 2013 15:03:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

I've read that some touring pros like Stanislas Wawrinka, Robin Soderling, and Michael Russell prefer a grip with a built-up, flared butt cap. What would the benefits of a larger, more flared butt cap offer versus a smaller, more tapered one?—James

*****

Good observation, James. A number of touring pros, like the three you mentioned, custom build their grips to “flare out” at the very bottom, lending the handle a kind of bell-like shape. (For a photo of Soderling’s racquet, click here. Also see Richard Gasquet’s flared palette here.) Today, there are even a few stock frames that employ the effect, like the Wilson Juice, though the level of flare is much less obvious.

So what’s the point? Why not just stick to a standard circumference? I had the chance to ask Russell this very question during an interview last fall at the U.S. Open. In Russell’s mind, the flared-out grip offers extra leverage, as well as security against slippage, especially when hanging the hitting hand off the edge of the butt cap. As he told me then,

I do build up the butt cap a little bit with athletic tape [before the grip goes on]…It’s kind of like a hockey stick, you know, kind of like that nub on the bottom. I hold the racquet quite low on the handle, and I pull against it on my serve and my forehand. If I didn’t have the athletic tape, then my racquet would probably go flying half the time. Because I also sweat, like, ridiculous.

Stability, tact, leverage: Those seem to be the objective reasons for a flared-out grip. But as with any equipment preference, there’s also a more subjective component, i.e., “feel.” In the past, I’ve tried a few sticks with hockey-like palettes; and without a doubt, that shape changes how the grip rests against the palm of the hand. (I wasn’t too thrilled about the feeling, personally.)

Still, I’d encourage you to experiment with the style, not so much because reputable pros use it, but just for your own sense of feel. There’s undeniably an element of mystery to why certain racquets, strings, and grips are comfortable to some players but not to others. And while this can be frustrating to those of us who want to uncover universal truths about taste, it’s also one of the more interesting facets of the game—as a player, you continually define your own sense of feel. Regardless of your ability level, through enough trial and error, you’ll have that aha! moment, when suddenly you think to yourself, This feels really good. From now on, I’m playing this way.

Question of the Day: Wood’s Last Gasp?

Fri, 29 Mar 2013 15:02:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

*****

Who was the last pro player to win a tournament with a wood racquet? I know wooden racquets were viable in the early 80s, but did anyone win anything with one in the ‘90s?—John M.

*****

Nobody ever won big with wood in the ‘90s, John. But Slovakian player Miloslav Mecir—coolest nickname ever: The Conjuror—came close twenty years ago, in 1989, at Indian Wells. According to Randy Walker’s On This Day in Tennis History, Mecir was “the last player to win an ATP tour event with a wooden racquet when he [defeated] Yannick Noah 3-6, 2-6, 6-1, 6-2, 6-3 in the men’s singles final at the Newsweek Champions Cup.”

More specifically, Mecir took home the title with a Snauwert composite, which combined a graphite laminate with a wooden interior. Composites, because they included wood, generally were heavier and less powerful than full-on graphite frames, which had pretty much come to dominate the tour by the end of the 1980s. That said, composite racquets were supposed to offer a more "traditional" feel, retaining a feedback profile similar to old-fashioned wood.

Any readers who onced played with a composite? Please comment. I've never played with one, and would be curious to know more about the experience.

Also, to those interested in the IW match, take a look below.

Question of the Day: Tennis Shoes for Extra-Wide Feet

Tue, 26 Mar 2013 16:19:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

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Do any companies other than New Balance manufacture tennis shoes for wide feet? I have a very wide foot type, and finding appropriate shoes has gotten to be a problem.—Krueger

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Unfortunately, Krueger, New Balance is the only brand we’re aware of that offers men’s and women’s tennis shoes, in the U.S., specially for extra-wide feet—specifically, in 2E and 4E sizes. All other brands only offer shoes in the standard D-size width.

Still, if you haven’t already, give a pair of New Balances a try. One shoe I’d recommend you demo is the New Balance 996. (Read our profile of the 996 here.) Unlike many of the company’s more conservative, club-level shoes, which they’re known for, the 996 is built for light-weight performance. The men’s version weighs in at 12.5 ounces (in a size 9.5), the women’s 10 oz (in a size 7), and both feature Probank technology, support near the front of the shoe that New Balance says increases lateral stability. Further, the 996 has a 12-month outsole guarantee—among the longest in the business.

Because we’re still putting the 996 through our weartesting process, I can’t render any judgments about the shoe as of yet. (A review of the New Balance 996 will appear in Tennis Magazine’s 2013 Shoe Guide, in the May/June issue.) That said, there are two other, albeit older, New Balance models you might want to consider: the 1005 and the 1187, both of which we reviewed in the 2012 Shoe Guide. (Read complete reviews of 1005 and 1187, respectively, here and here.)

As I wrote in a blog post last year, “At 12.6 ounces in a men’s size 9, the 1005 is relatively lightweight, but is only appropriate for neutral foot types; the 1187, on the other hand, is appropriate for all foot types, but is almost two ounces heavier than the 1005.”

(To access our 2012 Shoe Reviews, click here.)

Question of the Day: Sourcing Racquet Specifications

Fri, 22 Mar 2013 16:33:00 +0000

TENNIS.com gear editor Justin diFeliciantonio and his technical advisers answer your equipment questions each day. Click here to send in a question of your own.

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I want to know, with respect to your racquet reviews, where do all the specifications come from? Do companies provide them to you? Or do you take the measurements yourself?—Jim S.

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In our reviews, published on TENNIS.com and in Tennis Magazine, we source racquets’ specifications directly from manufacturers, specifically asking them to provide us with strung measurements. (Compared to its unstrung state, a racquet with string, for obvious reasons, tends to be heavier, have a higher swingweight, and be balanced more head heavy.)

In short, the reason we list manufacturer’s specs. instead of taking our own measurements is so that we can best account for variances in each racquet’s production. One thing you should know is that, when a new batch of certain model ships from the factory, the racquets aren’t all the same; within a certain quality-control range, set by each company, some of the sticks will be lighter or heavier, others will be balanced more or less head light. So when it comes time to write reviews, we list each frame’s “official” median specifications; because we generally receive no more than six of each model for testing, our sample size just isn’t large enough for us to take measurements and say, with complete confidence, that x spec. is at the center of y manufacturer’s factory variance.

Delray Beach: Gulbis d. Roger-Vasselin

Sun, 03 Mar 2013 22:45:00 +0000

The red Porsche parked in the corner of the court hadn't cut him off at the baseline, but Ernests Gulbis glared like a man on the verge of road rage staring down set point at 4-5 in the Delray Beach final.

Gulbis downshifted his anger into action. Stepping up toward the baseline, he ended a crackling 12-shot rally slamming a backhand winner down the line to save set point and spark a surge of seven straight points.

In a match that tested his mind as much as his reconstructed forehand, Gulbis tamed whipping winds, a tricky opponent and tempestuous emotions to score a 7-6 (3), 6-3 victory over Edouard Roger-Vasselin and capture his third career title in as many finals. The 109th-ranked qualifier won his second Delray Beach title in the last four years.

The talented and sometimes volatile Latvian craves the rush of driving fast, but grinded through an arduous course to take the title. Gulbis fought back from an 0-4 third-set hole to topple third-seeded Sam Querrey, 6-4, 4-6, 7-6 (4), and saved eight of 10 break points in beating second-seeded Tommy Haas, 6-3, 4-6, 7-6 (2) in the semifinals.

Flapping flags smacked around by the wind, which actually knocked one flag completely off its perch, could be heard on the court below as Gulbis broke for a 2-0 lead. Roger-Vasselin stood his ground in a rapid-fire net exchange, punching a forehand volley winner to break back for 1-2.

The son of 1983 Roland Garros semifinalist Christophe Roger-Vasselin, the 29-year-old Frenchman can do a little bit of everything. He showed his guile in downsizing mammoth servers Ivo Karlovic and John Isner en route to his first final. Roger-Vasselin is light on his feet, but doesn't hit as hard as the explosive Gulbis, who sailed a double fault deep to donate the break and fall into a 4-5 hole.

Serving for the set, Roger-Vasselin saved a second break point with a stinging ace down the middle before earning set point on the strength of a solid backhand approach. Before Roger-Vasselin served the set point, Gulbis stopped and briefly complained about sounds during play — it was unclear if he was talking to his opponent or chair umpire Fergus Murphy — before declaring "Come on!" and smacking his Wilson racquet against the soles of his shoes to punctuate his point.

Festering anger has erupted into rage and consumed Gulbis in the past; this time he channeled it with that match-changing backhand winner that reverberated in the minds of both men.

"I had a set point, but he hit an unbelievable backhand winner," Roger-Vasselin said afterward.

Gulbis's compact two-handed backhand and his roaring serve are his signature shots; he's fiddled with his forehand for a while and currently starts that stroke by extending both arms, like a surfer seeking balance as he rises on the board. Though it looks cumbersome compared to his taut two-hander, Gulbis made it work in the breaker. He smacked two forehand winners and a forehand down the lien to set up a forehand volley winner for 3-1. Serving at 4-3, Gulbis crunched a forehand winner crosscourt followed by a blistering serve into the hip for set point, closing when Roger-Vasselin spread a slice backhand wide.

Though he can blow up points with sheer power, Gulbis scored the key break of the second set with exquisite subtlety, guiding a sharp-angled drop shot that landed about two feet over the net as he broke for 4-3. Gulbis won eight matches in all and is projected to roar up to No. 52 when the new ATP rankings are released tomorrow, but he was still thinking about the road ahead after the match.

"I hope I get the Porsche this year," Gulbis joked to organizers. "I didn't get it last time."

Dubai: Djokovic d. Berdych

Sat, 02 Mar 2013 17:43:00 +0000

Organizers rolled out the red carpet before the trophy ceremony in Dubai; center court must look like a welcome mat to Novak Djokovic at this point.

Covering the court with the exuberance of a man completing a homecoming, Djokovic won 11 of the final 15 games to defuse big-hitting Tomas Berdych, 7-5, 6-3 and capture his fourth Dubai championship in the last five years. Fans serenaded the world No. 1 with a celebratory chant of "Nole! Nole!" as multi-colored confetti showered the court. It was the 18th consecutive victory for Djokovic, who raised his record to 13-0 on the season, continuing his career-long mastery of Berdych by collecting his 13th win in their 14 meetings.

Big Berd rarely looks up to opponents—only a handful of men in the Top 100 are taller than the 6’5” Czech—but he can't seem to shirk Djokovic's sizable shadow. A day after fighting off three match points in an electric three-set semifinal win over five-time champion Roger Federer, Berdych drew first blood in the final.

Stretched wide, the third seed extended the point with a one-handed slice backhand, streaked to the opposite sideline then lifted a running forehand pass crosscourt that eluded a lunging Djokovic as the fist-pumping Czech broke for a 3-2 lead. In the sixth game, the weight of a Berdych forehand drive nearly knocked Djokovic backward, like a man whose rib-cage was rattled by a medicine ball hurled into his mid-section. A slashing inside-out forehand from Berdych helped him consolidate for a 4-2 advantage.

Two penetrating shots — a thunderous first serve and his bold two-handed backhand down the line — helped power Berdych to the lead, but Djokovic never blinked. He's seen this script before and has a clear idea of how the story ends.

This is a comfortable match-up for the six-time Grand Slam champion because he's the more agile athlete, he's quicker around the court, a better ball-striker on the run and shrewder at changing up the spins on his shots, which gives him access to angles the flatter-hitting Berdych can't consistently produce. Though Berdych has scored significant doubles victories in leading the Czech Republic to the Davis Cup, he often looks averse to the front court and is prone to playing clunky volleys under pressure. It cost him when he hammered a backhand down the line to open the court, but bungled a routine high forehand volley, slapping it into net to drop serve for 4-all in a deflating donation.

Djokovic stumbled after a return blast from Berdych, banging up his right toe in the process, but couldn't catch up to the blistering shot facing a third break point in the ninth game. An effective slice serve out wide set up a crackling two-hander crosscourt as Djokovic denied the break point, eventually holding for 5-4 after 41 minutes of often explosive play.

The Berdych backhand that was so vital in erecting the lead proved critical in eradicating it. Sailing a pair of backhands beyond the baseline, Berdych fell into a double-set point deficit and succumbed to the pressure, double-faulting deep. Djokovic won eight of the final nine points in seizing the first set in 51 minutes.

Snapping off successive aces, Djokovic held at 30 to open the second set; Berdych responded with a three-ace game for 1-all. Digging out of a 0-30 hole in the seventh game and exploiting his advantage in running rallies, Djokovic worked over the Berdych backhand diligently drawing errors and winning four straight points to hold for 4-3.

Pressure-induced cracks in the eight game expanded into a full-blown break when Berdych mis-hit a forehand long to face a break point. Djokovic curled a clever lob into the corner that forced Berdych to wait for the ball to bounce, he slid an overhead wide handing Djokovic the crucial break and a 5-3 second-set lead. The top seed played the pivotal points with more care: Djokovic converted three of four break-point chances; Berdych was one of five on break-point opportunities.

Towering flat-ball hitters have learned that trying to hit through Djokovic is as effective as slamming your head against a sand castle wall. Djokovic is a combined 27-4 against three of the hardest hitters of recent years — Berdych, Juan Martin del Potro, whom he swept in the semis, and Robin Soderling.

The world No. 1 whipped an inside-out forehand to convert his second match point and wrap up an impressive one hour, 34-minute conquest. Realizing his latest red-carpet moment with some timely trips to net and an enduring sense of calm, Djokovic rolled to his 36th career title without surrendering a set.

Marseille: Berdych d. Gulbis

Wed, 20 Feb 2013 19:45:00 +0000

It doesn’t take much to make people hopeful about Ernests Gulbis again, does it? Coming into Rotterdam last week, everyone’s favorite lackadaisical Latvian was ranked firmly in the triple digits and had just one victory on the year. Brandishing a strange new forehand, though, Gulbis emerged from qualifying to reach the round of 16 and gave eventual champ Juan Martin del Potro a decent run for his money there. Even better, Gulbis claimed that he was going to cut back on the drinking and smoking. Fans wondered, not for the first, second, or even the third time: Was the 24-year-old Ernie, who has beaten Roger Federer and challenged Rafael Nadal on clay, and who is still the owner of a world-class serve, ready to turn things around at last?

We got our next piece of evidence today, when the 118th-ranked Gulbis faced top seed Tomas Berdych in Marseille. While Gulbis lost 6-4, 6-7 (10), 6-4, and that strange forehand failed him many, many times, this wasn’t a match that should make anyone write him off again just yet. Gulbis had upset Berdych in the first round at Wimbledon last year, and the Czech admitted today that he doesn’t like to play him: ‘You don’t know what’s going to happen,” Berdych said. Gulbis has the ability to take the racquet of a player’s hand, and Berdych, a power player himself, isn’t used to that.

What happened in the first set of this match, though, was fairly predictable. Gulbis earned two break points at 2-2, went for big forehand returns, and missed both of them. The two players then held until Gulbis was serving at 4-5. At 30-30 in that game, Gulbis drilled a backhand into the net. Down set point, he drilled a forehand into the net. What had been a close set was suddenly over.

The real surprise in this match wasn’t from the Gulbis side of the net; it was the fact that Berdych couldn’t close out the second set, and never looked comfortable on the court. After trading breaks in the middle of the set, the two went to a tiebreaker. Berdych saved two set points, only to squander three match points, one with a shank on a makeable forehand volley. Worse, he dumped a tentative forehand into the net at 10-10, and lost the set on a Gulbis forehand winner on the next point. Berdych really doesn’t like to play Gulbis; the Czech looked as tight trying to close out No. 118 as he does when he’s trying to close out one of the Big 4.

But he wasn’t tight enough to lose it. Berdych broke at 2-2 in the third, when Gulbis double-faulted and missed a forehand badly at break point. From there, Berdych held out, but it still wasn’t easy. He lost two more match points at 5-4, before kicking a nasty second serve into Gulbis’s body for the win, on his sixth match point.

Berdych advances to play the winner of Julien Benneteau and Jerzy Janowicz, and could be a tough out after surviving this one. As for Gulbis, I can’t say I like the new forehand. It involves a huge swooping motion with his left arm; by the time he gets around to swinging, he’s often on his back foot, and can look something like a tilting scarecrow as he hits.

If there’s going to be a Gulbis resurrection, it won’t be his forehand technique that leads the way. It will be, as it is for every player, how he deals with the psychological ebbs and flows of a match. Today he hung in when he was behind, saving five match points. But he didn’t deal with success all that well. He squandered his own break points, and when he finally broke Berdych at 3-3 in the second, he immediately gave his serve back. Gulbis seemed bothered by having the lead, slamming a towel to the ground and jawing with his father in the stands.

That was nothing compared to what Gulbis did with his racquet in the third set. Down a break at 3-4, he threw it to the court, watched it bounce high in the air above him, then threw it down again and shattered it. The sound was loud enough to force chair umpire Cedric Mourier to cover his ears. When Gulbis saw him do that, the two shared a laugh, a laugh that continued even as Mourier gave him a warning for racquet abuse.

Hey, maybe it’s a sign of progress: At least Gulbis cares enough these days to crush his racquet. The smash and the laugh, after all, are part of what fans like about Ernie, and why they get their hopes up about him so easily.

Viña del Mar: Zeballos d. Nadal

Mon, 11 Feb 2013 00:35:00 +0000

Rafael Nadal arrived in Viña del Mar seeking to shake off the rust from his injury-induced seven-month absence from the sport. But as the copper-colored clay swirled around in Sunday's final, Nadal couldn't create separation from Horacio Zeballos and his dust-busting forehand.

Stepping into the court to smack his forehand with ambition, the 73^rd-ranked Argentine delivered a stunning, 6-7 (2), 7-6 (6), 6-4 upset of the seven-time French Open champion to capture his first career ATP title and spoil the fifth-ranked Spaniard’s comeback tournament.

Nadal carried a 15-match clay-court winning streak and commanding 36-4 record in clay-court finals—only Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic had beaten Rafa at that stage—into the title match against Zeballos, who was contesting his second ATP tour-level final. All this, combined with the fact that Nadal had not surrendered a set in the tournament—and the reminder than he permitted just seven games to Zeballos in their lone prior meeting at the 2010 French Open—combined to create an atmosphere of impending coronation among fans, many of whom waved and wore the Spanish flag.

None of that mattered much to the 27-year-old underdog, who opened the year winning the Sao Paulo Challenger and looked poised playing the role of party crasher. Zeballos played boldly at crunch time, winning eight straight points to close an improbable victory.

The first ATP all-lefty final since the 2010 Monte Carlo Masters saw both men attack with their forehands throughout a tight opening set. Nadal opened a 5-1 lead in the first-set tiebreaker and struck an inside-out forehand winner for set point. Anticipating Zeballos’ wide serve, Nadal was off the doubles alley when he blasted a backhand return winner down the line to snatch the set with a fist-pumping flourish that brought the crowd to its feet.

Zeballos packs his pony-tail in a bun beneath his baseball cap, reminiscent of compatriot Gaston Gaudio, and unloads a sweeping swing on his forehand that recalls fellow Argentine left-handers Guillermo Vilas and Franco Squillari. Though Zeballos has 10 Challenger titles to his credit, consistency has been a challenge: He did not surpass the second round of an ATP event last year. Zeballos saved the only two break points in a second set that escalated into another tiebreaker.

Zeballos’ forcing forehand and a biting serve brought the Argentine to set point at 6-4 in the breaker. Then, after fending off a barrage of heavy forehands, Nadal short-circuited a crackling rally with an angled backhand drop shot. Grunting himself into gear, Zeballos ran it down, but flicked a full-stretch forehand out, then proceeded to press a ball against his temple like a man pained by a bruise—and worried into might swell into something much worse. When a backhand of sailed wide on the next point, it was six-all.

But this time, with Nadal serving, Zeballos sat on the backhand return and slammed his one-hander down the line—a master strike that recalled Rafa’s backhand return winner in the first set breaker. It earned Zeballos another set point, and this time he didn't blink. Opening the court with a punishing inside-out forehand, Zeballos waited for Nadal to make his move, then struck a sweeping forehand behind him to force a third set. It was the third tiebreaker Zeballos won this week—he beat Albert Ramos, 7-6 (6), in the third set of the quarterfinals, and defeated Carlos Berlocq, 6-3, 7-6 (4), in the semifinals.

When Nadal broke at love to open the third set, it appeared order had been restored. But the former No. 1 did not consistently produce the depth on his groundstrokes and paid the price. Nadal saved two break points in the very next game, but blocked a forehand drop volley into the top of the net to immediately drop serve.

A brilliant backhand stab volley from Nadal helped him erase a break point and gut out a hold for 4-4. But rather than rue that lost opportunity, Zeballos was strengthened by the struggle. He slammed an ace wide to hold at love for 5-4 and ratchet up the pressure on Nadal, who was drifting a bit too far behind the baseline in prevent-defense mode.

Zeballos exploited Nadal's court positioning with a forehand drop shot winner, then curled a gorgeous running forehand cross-court to shockingly earn triple match point. When Nadal found the net to end the two hour, 46-minute struggle, Zeballos fell flat on his back, collapsing to the court in a combination of exhilaration, relief, and disbelief. Some members of the crowd looked so astonished by the result that the initial reaction was a bit more muted than one might expect, but when Zeballos rose, his white Fila shirt caked in crushed red brick, the realization of the win struck all.

“It's a dream for me,” said Zeballos afterward. “To be able to play a final against Nadal was already good enough for me. It's a moment that will stay in my memory for the rest of my life.”

Zeballos never shook the clay that streaked his shirt or the smile plastered across his face, while Nadal must know the bulls-eye on his back grows larger after a stunning loss like this. Still, his game will grow sharper with each match.

Doha: Gasquet d. Davydenko

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 18:12:00 +0000

When he stepped to the line to serve at 4-3 in the second set against Richard Gasquet today, Nikolay Davydenko had not been broken in Doha all week. He’d held 43 consecutive times. Two more and he would have his 22nd career title. He didn’t hold.

To that point, a Davydenko win had looked like a foregone conclusion. As he had the previous day in his demolition of top seed David Ferrer, the Russian had controlled the action against Gasquet. He had broken in the second game of the match, taken a 3-0 lead, and with little trouble had held out for the set, 6-3. Davydenko was standing on top of the baseline and punishing Gasquet with his customary lasers to the corners. After all of that offense, the Russian had closed the set with a sparkling bit of defense. Facing a break point at 5-3, Davydenko tracked down a brilliant Gasquet forehand and shot back a surprisingly hard slice that handcuffed him.

As for the Frenchman, after an early flurry of promising play at the net, he had been unable to fight his away anywhere near the baseline during most rallies. He settled for heavy topspin from deep in the court, and when he did have an opportunity, he became even more passive. Gasquet earned a break point in the second game of the second set, only to step back and let Davydenko connect on an easy forehand winner. When Davydenko held, and then broke Gasquet at 2-2 on an ill-advised serve and volley foray from the Frenchman, this one looked done and dusted.

It looked even more so one game later, when Davydenko earned two break points for a chance to go up 5-2 and serve for the title. This is when Davydenko, after being so dominant all week, finally lost that laser-like accuracy. He hit a backhand long on one breaker, and an easy forehand into the net on the next. Gasquet escaped and, in the next game, broke serve for the first time to level the set at 4-4.

Gasquet and his coach, Riccardo Piatti, had talked this week about his improved fitness, and that’s a big part of what won him this match. Yes, he spent much of his time deep in the court, but he eventually made that tactic, such as it was, work for him. He improved the depth and height on his shots as the match progressed, and watched as Davydenko imploded with 21 unforced errors in the second set, and 57 for the day.

If the body is willing, the mind will often follow, and that’s the way it was for Gasquet, who was grittier than normal this week. At 4-4, 30-30 in the second set, he hit a an ace and a forehand winner to hold. He served well in taking the second-set tiebreaker and closed it with a confident smash. He managed to keep his head after Davydenko took a nine-minute injury timeout at the start of the third set after tweaking his hip. And he did what Davydenko couldn’t do in the second set, secure an insurance break, with a dynamic scrambling pass. After a nervous hiccup trying to serve it out at 5-2, Gasquet secured the win after one last backhand error from Davydenko, 3-6, 7-6 (4), 6-3.

A winding, tiring, and ultimately surprising Doha final ended with Gasquet’s eighth title, rather than Davydenko’s 22nd. Both will be players to watch in Melbourne.

Brisbane: S. Williams d. Pavlyuchenkova

Sat, 05 Jan 2013 10:31:00 +0000

For four games, it looked like a match, potentially a very good match. It’s hard to remember now, but both Serena Williams and Anastasia Pavlyuchenkova came out firing the ball in their final in Brisbane today. They split the first four points, all on winners, and each of them closed out their service games with aces. Williams powered through all of her strokes as expected, but Pavlyuchenkova stood her ground at the other baseline and powered them right back. At one point, she even forced Serena to go to her left hand, Sharapova-style, to retrieve a ball. It all looked a little improbable from the Russian’s perspective. She’s talented, but were her hands really that fast?

They weren’t, it turned out. The first cracks in Pavs’ armor showed at 2-3, and they only grew wider from there. In that game, Williams hit three solid forehand returns, and the Russian threw in a double fault. Serena had her break, and Anastasia never got close to breaking her back—Williams lost just eight points on her serve over the course of what would be a 51-minute, 6-2, 6-1 win for her 47th career title, and first of what could be many more this season. Serena hit aces to each corner and winners with ease. To say it was “convincing” would be the understatement of the season thus far.

Pavlyuchenkova’s last and only chance came when she saved two break points at 0-1 in the second set. Serena looked a little tight on a netted forehand, but she came right back to win the game with a nicely anticipated forehand angle volley—even Serena looked impressed with herself after that one. In the next game, Pavlyuchenkova came back from 30-0 down to 30-30 on Williams’s serve, but she shanked an easy backhand off a second ball and was never in the match again. She’s now 0-4 against Serena. It's better to be able to move, rather than just hit, when you face the American. Pavs will always be a hitter first.

Still, with her wins over Angelique Kerber and Petra Kvitova, this was a strong week for Pavlyuchenkova, a former No. 1 junior with a big game who has struggled mightily to live up to her potential. She looks fitter, and her consistency has improved, but there wasn’t a whole lot she could have done tonight. Williams hit winners seemingly without risk, and was lethal and efficient in equal measures. But the most interesting stat to me was her first serve percentage: 55. That’s not even that great.

"Not even that great": You never would have known it from watching.

Doha: Davydenko d. Ferrer

Fri, 04 Jan 2013 17:32:00 +0000

If today in Doha is any indication, you can forget that Rafael Nadal is on sick leave and focus on a Big Four consisting of Novak Djokovic, Roger Federer, Andy Murray and ... Nikolay Davydenko.

Alright, so Davydenko is ranked a modest No. 44. He’s 31, and has won just two titles in the last three years. Last year, he never even made a final. But if you saw the way he demolished world No. 5 David Ferrer in the semifinals, 6-2, 6-3, you might be more inclined to pencil him in over the Spaniard as next in line for that No. 4 ranking that Nadal is about to surrender.

Davydenko routed one of the most combative, gritty, and consistent players of the past decade in a match that barely lasted an hour (officially, it was 1:04). Ferrer didn’t see a single break point, and he made 26 unforced errors to Davydenko’s 17. He also hit just six winners compared to the Russian’s 18.

The word we’re looking for is one very rarely associated with anything Ferrer: “Blowout!”

The most notable feature of the match was Davydenko’s ability to take care of his serve. It’s been a theme for him all week in Doha. It may be hard to believe, but the 5’10” veteran hasn’t dropped serve yet, and the book on him has always been that you can get into his service games and undermine his confidence.

But truth be told, both of these baseliners turned the conventional wisdom on its ear today, relying on their serves as if they were natural-born attackers rather than defenders. Davydenko scored the first break with a one-two combination of a pretty backhand down-the-line winner followed by a tricky backhand that pulled Ferrer up to the net; it forced a volley error. That led to a 3-1 Davydenko lead, which threatened to become a two-break edge when Ferrer next served and fell behind 0-40. But Ferrer hit his way out of trouble, delivering three consecutive service winners to hold for 2-3.

Davydenko followed with an impressive serving display of his own to hold quickly, and Ferrer wandered into danger again in the next game. Once again, he fell behind 0-40 as Davydenko unloaded a dazzling array of relatively flat and lethally angled groundstrokes to keep Ferrer on the run. Ferrer gamely fought off the first two break points but succumbed to the third following a nifty combination of groundies that brought Davydenko up to the net to claim the break with a volley winner. He then held with ease to take the first set in 28 minutes.

You could be forgiven for groaning at that point and thinking, “We’re in for a long one...” But Ferrer, now in panic mode, began a campaign to break Davydenko’s momentum by playing a lot of slice. That didn’t work out so well—he had to save two break points just to survive the first game of the next set. The next five games rolled by quickly; the way Davydenko was clubbing the ball, it was clear we weren’t going to be watching a lot of long rallies. That, by the way, offers a clue to the question, “How do you beat Ferrer?”

Davydenko made his final, critical breakthrough in the seventh game, once again rolling to a 0-40 lead on Ferrer’s serve. He didn’t allow Ferrer to sneak back into this one, though, slamming the door with a Nole-worthy inside-out forehand winner. Did Davydenko, ordinarily a shy and self-effacing type, really puff out chest and glare at the spot where the ball landed with that “Who’s the man?” glint in his eyes?

All Davydenko had to do then was keep his nerve. He accomplished that with ease as a dispirited Ferrer allowed yet another hold, then fell behind 30-40 on serve. Davydenko converted the match point when he ended a rally with yet another, final, backhand winner.

I’ve always like Davydenko’s game better than that of Ferrer, and this match demonstrated why. When you can take the ball early, hit relatively flat, scamper around the court nimbly and pick your angles, even a grinder extraordinaire like Ferrer can be rendered powerless.

Now let’s see you do it again, Kolya.

Brisbane: S. Williams d. Stephens

Thu, 03 Jan 2013 11:11:00 +0000

There is a tendency to compare Sloane Stephens to Serena Williams, and it’s understandable: Both African-Americans have enjoyed success in the pros at a young age and can overpower opponents with blistering shots. The two are close off the court as well, with Serena serving as a mentor to her Fed Cup teammate.

But the comparison falls short in one respect: The way the two express themselves on court. There’s no guesswork needed to figure out how Serena’s feeling—just watch her facial reactions, listen to her points, and take note of how hard she’s hitting her returns. Stephens, on the other hand, exhibits a quiet confidence, all the way down to the way she strikes her shots, which have more spin than splat. It served her very well today in Brisbane, even in defeat. For although Serena prevailed, 6-4, 6-3, Stephens’ demeanor and determination made this quarterfinal into a memorable, high-quality contest that often brought out the best in both women.

Stephens did a little tightrope-walking early on, despite matching Serena’s service holds through eight games. The 19-year-old got away with some soft second serves—once paying homage to Agnieszka Radwanska with a “squat shot” winner—and managed to snag points she was seemingly out of. But although some of this could be chalked up to Serena errors, Stephens’ poise must be commended. She can reset rallies with looping, accurate groundstrokes, then use those shots to create advantageous angles. Many of Serena’s errors came when she was on the run, but it was Stephens who forced that movement. That put the elder countrywoman into some pressure-filled situations, including facing a break point at 3-3. Serena wiped it away with an ace.

Like her attitude, Serena’s serve can sometimes come across as cavalier, but no matter what you think about it, it’s the biggest difference between herself and her opponents, and Stephens was no exception. The most powerful shot in the WTA made life difficult for Stephens as she returned—though Serena rarely got through service games unscathed—and put added importance on the teenager’s own service games. Up 40-15 while serving to stay in the first set at 5-4, Stephens made the cardinal sin of not finishing off Serena when she could. Four points later, the set was over. Serena made it so with smart second-serve returns, eschewing power for placement.

Power was never far from reach, though, for both women, and Stephens’ continuous improvement in the first set suggested that she wouldn’t fade away. And had she converted a break point in the opening game of the second set—earned with a clean forehand winner up the line—Stephens might still be out on the court as I type this. But as we’ve seen so many times, both today and in matches past, Serena’s serve came to the rescue, and it was 1-0 with a hold. The pattern was established once again.

Serena was hardly automatic in this match, but she methodically built up her score with more powerful shots, while Stephens countered with an astute performance that belies her young age. Her quiet confidence was evident in the second set, perhaps her best of the two despite winning one less game. You saw it on Stephens' face, how she carried herself, and even when she challenged a fault call on her first serve—naturally, it was reversed.

But the pattern from the first set did not disappear, and after a light first serve in the eighth game, Serena earned a break point, which she won at net for a 5-3 lead. A big “Come on!” cry followed the winner, just as it did at one instance in the first set, something Stephens called “disrespectful” during a chat with her coach. It was another illustration of the difference between the two, but in Serena’s mind, Stephens and her will have another similarity soon enough: After Williams held serve for the win, the former No. 1 declared that Stephens “can be the best in the world one day.” That’s a pretty confident statement.

Davis Cup Final: Stepanek d. Almagro

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 19:18:00 +0000

Could Czech fans have felt confident about their team’s Davis Cup fate resting with Radek Stepanek? The 33-year-old is best known for the belly-flopping post-match celebrations he once offered up, not that he ever got to show off The Worm all that often. He’s won only five singles titles in his long career, all at minor tournaments. One of the reasons for this limited success is obvious enough: Stepanek is the player that time forgot; he’s held onto a flying, whack-and-attack style that went out of fashion with the mullet.

But Spanish fans probably didn’t feel any better about having to rely on Nicolas Almagro. The 27-year-old Spaniard, ranked 11th in the world, has loads of talent but has never known quite what to do with it, especially in big matches. He’s reached just three major quarterfinals in his career, all at the French Open.

Old Man Stepanek, with his Mick Jagger lips and rock ’n’ roll showmanship, had to be considered the favorite coming into the match, for Almagro is a claycourt guy to his core and Prague’s O2 Arena has been playing like a bowling alley. Stepanek delivered in the decider, scoring a 6-4, 7-6 (0), 3-6, 6-3 victory to clinch the Davis Cup for the Czech Republic.

Of course, Davis Cup is as much about emotions and guts as it is about match ups. So it was no surprise that both players were tense and nervy early on. Stepanek clanked his groundstrokes repeatedly in his first service game. Almagro gave up two doubles faults in his. But both men held and settled in for the long haul.

Stepanek made the first move, going for outlandish winners from the baseline and picking volleys off his shoes. He earned the first set point at 4-5 with a brilliant series of checkerboard moves, sending Almagro sprinting to and fro at oblique angles until the Spaniard simply ran out of court. The Czech then nailed down the set with a thumping backhand service return that Almagro couldn’t handle. Stepanek marched off the court, fist held high, biceps and lips plumped to the bursting point.

It was clear how much this meant to the combatants: two second-tier players in the deciding rubber of a Davis Cup final. They both recognized that this match could be key to how they’ll be remembered in their sport -- or if they’ll be remembered.

True to the stakes, the match immediately proved highly entertaining, far more so than the David Ferrer-Tomas Berdych match that set it up. The difference early on was Stepanek’s variety: on a good day and up against a player outside the Top 10, he can make you believe serve-and-volley tennis really does still have a place in professional tennis. But most of all, he moved exceptionally well, hitting his forehand on the dead run with a muscular flick of the wrist, and scrambling for every shot. Almagro, on the other hand, sometimes looked like he was on Heathrow’s moving walkway, easing toward the ball with an odd, glassy-eyed detachment.

To be sure, Almagro’s sleepy countenance can be deceiving. After struggling to hold serve early in the second set, the Spaniard came alive with a whiplash down-the-line backhand winner. He turned the momentum by breaking Stepanek and then quickly holding for a 4-2 lead. Just like that, it no longer felt like a fair fight. Watching Almagro bang down huge serves and unleash that wicked one-handed backhand, you can only wonder why he hasn’t had more success on hard courts.

The thing is, as soon as anyone starts thinking such thoughts about Almagro, he starts missing shots by half a foot. Stepanek cleverly drew the Spaniard forward on a break point and then used a he-man forehand-backhand combination to level the match at 4-all.

The battle raged on into a tiebreak, but Stepanek was willing to leave more of himself out there, including skin and blood after diving for a volley. The Czech hit hard, flat groundstrokes that often skipped the net, and he carved angled volleys to within a breath of the lines. The intensity from across the net proved too much for Almagro. The Spaniard stepped back onto the moving walkway and watched the tiebreak pass him by, 7-0.

That should have been the end of Almagro. In any of the majors, it would have been the end of him. But this was Davis Cup, and Stepanek was playing his third best-of-five match in as many days. In the third set, Almagro hardly looked like a man on the ropes. He served big and hit out when he had to, and Stepanek let him do it. The set quickly went to the Spaniard, 6-3. Was Stepanek, looking increasingly bedraggled, suddenly in trouble?

Nope. He just wanted to make things a little more interesting. After scoring an early break, he continued to swoop forward, knocking off volleys straight out of a dog-eared copy of Rod Laver’s “228 Tennis Tips.” The Big Game is still a beautiful thing, and it can still rattle an opponent — especially a claycourt specialist on an indoor hard court. The mood became a little testy in the 4-2 game when partisans in the crowd decided to get into the line-calling business and Stepanek’s forehand started looking a little tight. But the Czech veteran held, pushing Almagro’s back right up against the wall. In Stepanek’s next service game, he smacked two big serves to reach match point. The end came with Almagro dropping a backhand into the net, giving the Czech Republic its first Davis Cup title as an independent country and Stepanek a secure place in tennis history books.

Davis Cup Final: Ferrer d. Berdych

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 15:05:00 +0000

We all knew from the start that Tomas Berdych was primed to be the hero of this Davis Cup final. Eleven-time major champion Rafael Nadal, who bested Berdych in the 2010 Wimbledon final, decided to stay home to rest his knees a while longer. And the tie was being played in Prague on what Spanish captain Alex Corretja called “the fastest surface of the year.”

But high expectations at home can be rough in this competition. Just ask Ilie Nastase, who famously called his team a “10:1 favorite” when Romania had home-court advantage against the U.S. in 1972. Or Juan Martin del Potro, whose Argentinian team faced Spain in Mar del Plata four years ago. Romania and Argentina still haven’t won the sterling silver trophy.

Sure enough, Berdych struggled against Nicolas Almagro on Friday, needing five sets to beat a player who’s never reached a tournament final on anything but clay. After that rubber, which leveled the tie at 1-all, Corretja floated the idea that Almagro’s four-hour loss was all part of the plan, that Spain was using the rope-a-dope on Berdych. Let the 6’5” Czech punch himself out in the first two days (he and Radek Stepanek beat Marc Lopez and Marcel Granollers in four sets yesterday in doubles), so on the last day diminutive David Ferrer could score a knockout against the Czech Republic’s number-one player and spark a comeback for the visitors. Which he did, to the score of 6-2, 6-3, 7-5.

Nerves and fatigue certainly appeared to be a factor right from the start as Berdych, after drifting three feet behind the baseline, lofted a backhand long to give Ferrer a break in the second game. The “ice rink” court at Prague’s O2 Arena started to look like a bad choice for the Czech Republic, which was going for its first Davis Cup as an independent nation. (Ivan Lendl, in the arena today, led Czechoslovakia to the crown back in 1980.) Spain might be a clay-loving country, but Ferrer had beaten Berdych more than once on fast, hard surfaces. And here he was, cranking inside-out forehands and down-the-line backhands, crouching into each stroke as if taking a gut shot at close range. He went up 3-0 in a matter of minutes and cruised to a 6-2 first set.

The match remained utterly without tension in the second set, with the only question being whether Ferrer would run away with the match. Horns blared and cheers erupted with every Berdych point, but the crowd didn’t really seem up for willing their man to victory. This couldn’t have been a surprise to any serious tennis fan. Like Lendl before him, Berdych has never been all that lovable. Defensive about being kept just outside the Grand Slam winner’s circle year after year, the glowering, big-hitting 27-year-old often comes across as self-satisfied and harried at the same time, like Harry Lime up on that Vienna Ferris wheel.

Ferrer has handled his own perennial bridesmaid status much better. Undersized and floppy-haired, the 30-year-old Spaniard is a natural underdog and uses it to his advantage. The small Spanish contingent in the crowd was behind him, and the Czech fans, though certainly not for him, weren’t against him. That was enough for the world’s fifth ranked player. Whereas Berdych was sluggish and out of synch, Ferrer was an unwavering electric current. When he dug out a beautifully angled inside-out forehand from Berdych and followed it with a forehand winner to break early in the second set, no one had any doubt about the outcome of the match. Ferrer easily took the set 6-3, offering up only four unforced errors.

The third set offered more of the same. Berdych fought on for hearth and home, even earning back a break for 4-all, but it was just for show. Ferrer broke again and served at 6-5. When Berdych dumped a forehand in the net to send the tie to a fifth and deciding rubber, Ferrer dropped to his knees in joy. His opponent, meanwhile, stared vacantly into the mists as he headed to the sidelines.

Berdych won two rubbers at this Davis Cup Final, but he wouldn’t be the final-day hero.

Davis Cup Final: Berdych d. Almagro

Sat, 17 Nov 2012 00:00:00 +0000

See what a little trash talk in tennis can do? That’s probably what Tomas Berdych was thinking, and lamenting, as he watched Nicolas Almagro play inspired tennis against him for five sets and nearly four hours in front of a piercingly loud Prague audience today. Earlier in the week, Berdych had called Almagro Spain’s “weak link,” the man whom his Czech team would “build its victory around.” Berdych did build his own win over him today, 6-3, 3-6, 6-3, 6-7 (5), 6-3, but by making it go as long as it did, Almagro may have done more for his own team in the long run. Berdych will most likely have to come back and play doubles tomorrow afternoon, and then the first reverse singles against a rested David Ferrer on Sunday. Judging by how the Big Berd looked at the end of the fifth set today, that could be difficult. He won the last two games in part because he was too tired to do anything but stand and let his shots rip.

Otherwise, personal rivalry aside, this was Davis Cup as usual—a sprawling, sometimes-heroic, sometimes-nervy mass of great shots, plot twists, team love, audience misbehavior, and a terrible, kazoo-like soundtrack. While Berdych tried to use his superior power to rush the clay-loving Almagro on this quick hard court, the Spaniard countered with hooking angles designed to get his taller opponent moving. The two players traded runs and lulls all evening. Berdych, the favorite, kept threatening to slam the door with his intimidating pace, while Almagro kept getting off the mat and grabbing command of the rallies back.

Berdych came in with an 8-3 record in their head to head, and once his teammate Radek Stepanek lost to Spain’s David Ferrer in the opening rubber, it became essential for him to win. But Ferrer’s straight-set victory had sapped some of the energy and anticipation from the crowd. While Berdych had the upper-hand in the early going—he broke Almagro at 4-3 with a curling crosscourt pass and won the first set—the Spaniard hit the ball well and kept his attitude upbeat. He only got better in the second, as he began to dominate from the baseline; Almagro's one-handed backhand, which he hit with as much authority you’ll ever see from him on a hard court, was the aesthetic highlight of the day. He broke Berdych with a brilliant forehand-backhand crosscourt combination to make it 4-2, and held out from there.

In general, though, Almagro had to play better than his norm to stay with the higher-ranked Berdych, and the Spaniard fell back to earth again in the third set. The turnaround came in the first two games. Almagro reached break point on Berdych’s serve—the big man appeared to be staggering—but hit a crosscourt backhand that missed by a few inches. Berdych, smiling with relief, held. Almagro double-faulted to be broken in the next game, and the Czech ran out the set from there. When Berdych opened the fourth with a love break, and followed it with a love hold, it appeared that there would be no comeuppance for the Bad Berd.

But the “weak link” refused to snap. Almagro broke for 2-3 after a couple of nervous misses by Berdych, and they held to 5-4. At that point, the charged atmosphere got another jolt, when the two players went chest to chest as they walked to the sideline for the changeover—neither wanted to give way. Fittingly, the set went to a tiebreaker, and just as fittingly, Almagro, sailing on his third wind of the day, won it 7-5 with an ace. We were all even.

Both players fought as valiantly through the decider. Berdych held off break points in the opening game with two service winners, and broke with a gutsy backhand return at 3-2. But the Czech, growing weary, couldn’t sustain it. He made two unforced errors to give the break back. As I said, though, that weariness helped Berdych in the end—it relaxed him; all he could do was hit big. At 4-3, he cranked two huge forehands to reach break point, and broke with a backhand winner. At 5-3, he opened with another forehand winner, followed it with a volley winner, and shut the door with two big serves.

When these two played in Australia this year, Berdych had refused to shake Almagro’s hand after the Spaniard had drilled him with a forehand. This time Almagro didn’t return the gesture. After four hours, he walked to the net, stuck his hand out to Berdych, gave the Czech coach a wink, and his Spanish supporters a thumbs up. Almagro may yet turn out to be the weak link on Spain’s team this weekend, but for tennis fans he something else today: a class act.

Berdych created more pressure for himself with his words, so credit him for withstanding it. Now there’s not much time for rest. He finished this match around midnight, and he’ll be out to play doubles with Stepanek tomorrow at 2:00 Prague time. The Bad Berd could still be the hero. Or he could look like the weak link himself—for helping inspire Almagro to exhaust him.

Davis Cup Final: Ferrer d. Stepanek

Fri, 16 Nov 2012 19:04:00 +0000

For a while there, David Ferrer looked like a man chasing his wind-driven fedora down the street. A guy trying to poke a bolt through a hole that he can’t see. A hipster struggling to get into a pair of freshly-laundered pipestem jeans, or jeggings.

Before the second set of the opening rubber of the 2012 Davis Cup final was over, Spain’s lead singles player and world No. 5 had been gifted no fewer than 20 break points by his opponent, the Czech Republic’s Radek Stepanek. But Ferrer had been able to capitalize and earn breaks on only of two of them—and one through no great play of his own, as it was a Stepanek double fault that gave the Spaniard his first break.

Still, it was hard to fault Ferrer. He was rarely in danger today, while Stepanek, buoyed by a home crowd and with the notorious Davis Cup nerves in play on both sides of the court, came up with numerous excellent shots and saves to keep the match close—if not quite as close as the final score in favor of Ferrer suggests: 6-3, 6-4, 6-4.

Making full use of the fast court (although not “incredibly fast” as some pundits suggested, thanks to ITF rules that limit court speed) in Prague’s O2 Arena, Stepanek played fine, often heroic attacking tennis—he won 37 of a whopping 64 forays to the net, for a 58 percent success rate. But a few key elements in the match-up and some problems in his execution ensured that Stepanek was fighting a rear-guard action all the way. It was a great demonstration of a player digging in his heels and refusing to yield to the inevitable.

The problem for Stepanek was that he served poorly, especially in the early going. He hovered around the 50 percent first-serve conversion rate for most of the first set, and finished at 56 percent. His forehand, always an assailable shot, couldn’t consistently keep him in rallies. And perhaps most important, Stepanek has a versatile backhand (both a one-handed slice and two-handed drive) but was reluctant to go down the line with it, no matter the variety. Given the extent to which Ferrer loves to sit back on his heels in his own backhand corner and dictate with his inside-out forehand, not having to worry about a Djokovic-esque down-the-line backhand blast surely made his life in this match much more comfortable.

Still, there was that pesky fedora. . .

Or, that pesky, unfamiliar attacking style. . .

In the first set, Stepanek started well but got into deep trouble in the sixth game, which he served. That game went on for a full 24 minutes, and featured seven break points and 11 deuces (and that wasn’t Rafael Nadal out there, bumping up his on-court time as if he were getting paid by the hour). Ferrer couldn’t convert any of the break chances, and when Stepanek held it appeared that he might have the momentum to win the set.

But after dropping the first point on his serve, Ferrer ripped off the next four, and suddenly the arm-weary, 33-year-old Czech found himself having to serve again. It was hardly surprising when he delivered three double faults and dropped serve to go down 3-5. By that point, Stepanek had five doubles; he would serve only one more, but that first flurry cost him disproportionately. Who cares if you throw in a double when you’re behind by two sets and a break?

Ferrer served out the first set and had two break chances in the opening game of the second set before converting on his third attempt. He made the break stick and almost added an insurance break when he had break points 16, 17, and 18 in the fifth game. But Stepanek held and—surprise, surprise—took advantage of a huge lapse of concentration by Ferrer to break for 3-3.

This would be Stepanek’s best (and last) chance to significantly alter the course of the match, and he hung in there for the next two games. In the ninth game, serving at 4-5, he saved break points Nos. 19 and 20, but couldn’t handle a Ferrer backhand service return winner on No. 21. Ahead 5-4, Ferrer banged out an ace on his third set point.

Given that Stepanek will be 34 later this month, and that Ferrer is the long-lost twin to the Energizer Bunny, it was not just unlikely but impossible that Stepanek recover and significantly extend the match. Ferrer went up an early break in the third set, and added an insurance break that came in handy when Stepanek broke him while down 2-5.

The Czech kept things undecided, if not necessarily interesting anymore, with a hold in the next game. But the inevitable came to pass in the next game when Ferrer forced a backhand volley error to end it.

World Tour Finals: Djokovic d. Federer

Mon, 12 Nov 2012 23:38:00 +0000

The margins are slim at the top of the men’s game these days. We’ve heard it many times over the last few years, but it was borne out again in the semis and the final at the ATP’s year-end championships. Yesterday I began by saying that each set between Roger Federer and Andy Murray had the same theme—a lead by Murray that was erased, seemingly from out of nowhere, by an opportunistic Federer. Twenty-four hours later the roles had changed: This time is was Federer who went up an immediate break in each set, only to watch Novak Djokovic steal both of them from him at the end. It was a fitting end to 2012, as the season’s No. 1 player edged its No. 2, 7-6 (6), 7-5—96 total points to 95.

The strange thing is that, for most of the match, it was No. 2 who had the upper hand. Federer, the master of the one-minute opening hold, out-did himself this time by closing his first service game with an easy forehand volley winner at the 55-second mark. Djokovic, by contrast, was completely unsettled to start. He was broken at love in his own opening service game, a game that featured a mishit volley from him and a routine backhand sent 10 feet long. Federer went up 3-0, and when he started the following game with an imperious forehand winner, it looked like we might see a repeat of the first-set bagel that he served to Djokovic this summer in Cincinnati.

Again, though, the margins are slim, even between a 6-0 set and one that goes to a tiebreaker. Yesterday it was Murray who failed to secure an insurance break when he had a chance; this time it was Federer. He reached deuce at 3-0, as Djokovic began stretching his back in discomfort. But Nole held with a forehand winner to get on the board. The blowout was averted, but only just. His back got better.

The key point in the set was the next one, though not for the reasons we first thought. In it, Djokovic forced Federer to scramble, only to have him come back and smack a forehand pass by him. It looked like one more highlight-reel moment in Federer’s march to a first set win, but it ended up helping Djokovic more. He ran a lot in that point; after it, he relaxed, loosened up, and left his early discomfort behind. He also found his famous return of serve, putting one on the baseline at break point, which eventually led to a Federer ground stroke going long. After all of the Federer fireworks, they were back on serve. The match had turned, and the Swiss’s forehand wouldn’t be the weapon it was early on—he finished with eight winners and 24 unforced errors from that side. Djokovic went, in the blink of an eye, from being lost at sea to very much in his running, defending, counter-punching element along the baseline.

But Djokovic was far from home free. Serving for the set at 5-4, 30-0, he got tight and made three unforced errors, including one at set point, before being broken. The two went to a tiebreaker, and neither could shake the other through the first 10 points. Djokovic took a lead at 6-5, and seemed to have a forehand pass by Federer for the set—that’s when the fun began. Roger lunged and managed a perfect drop volley; Novak somehow tracked it down and flipped it past Federer, seemingly for the set again. But Federer reached back and found a forehand crosscourt angle for a winner. Djokovic could only put his hands on his hips in disbelief as the crowd rose to its feet. A very good set had reached its peak.

After the climax—there was the anti-climax. At 6-6, Federer made a strange shot choice, trying to go down the line with a topspin backhand from deep in the court. He shanked it badly, and Djokovic closed out the set with an inside-out forehand winner.

It had been a whirlwind set, and neither players nor fans seemed quite ready for another one right away. Federer opened it by persisting through an 11-minute game, with virtual silence in the arena, to break Djokovic’s serve. The quality of play became less spectacular and more rugged as the set wore. Federer again had a chance for some insurance on Djokovic’s serve at 3-1, but again his forehand deserted him at break point. Still, when Federer served at 5-4, it looked certain that the set would be his. He built a 40-15 lead and snapped off a first serve. Djokovic, as he tends to do at these moments, snapped it right back. Federer, rattled, made two errors, went down a break point, and watched as Djokovic hit two lines to win the game.

There were hints, in Djokovic’s back-to-the-wall chutzpah and Federer’s staggered response, of the end of their fabled 2011 U.S. Open semifinal. Those hints grew harder to ignore when Djokovic hit a big crosscourt forehand at 30-30 in the next game and held for 6-5, and Federer opened his following service game by sending a shanked forehand long. After another forehand miss for 30-30 and a backhand long for 30-40, we had, very suddenly and somewhat incredibly, reached championship point for Djokovic.

Federer went up the T with his serve; Djokovic was there. A few short balls from Djokovic later, Federer approached with an inside out forehand. Djokovic was there again, with this year’s version of The Shot—a lunging backhand pass winner. Federer, who had found the perfect balance of aggression and margin against Murray, had lost it this time. He may have been guilty of not coming forward and using his chip approach enough; he may have gone crosscourt with his forehand too often; he certainly missed it too much. Djokovic was the better player when it mattered. He kept the score close when he wasn’t playing well, he tightened the ship at the end of each set, and he played brilliantly, as always, with his back to the brink.

If there were any questions as to who the Player of the Year for 2012 was, they were answered with Djokovic’s final backhand. In a year when each of the Big 4 claimed a major, and when Federer and Djokovic each had two wins against the other, it was that bullet pass, which just cleared the net and just ducked under Federer’s outstretched racquet, that provided the clinching margin. As always these days, it was a slim one, but it was enough.

World Tour Finals: Federer d. Murray

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 22:59:00 +0000

The first set of Roger Federer’s semifinal win over Andy Murray today in London was close, the second one wasn’t. But they shared a similar plot: A lead by Murray that Federer snatched away, seemingly from out of nowhere.

Federer started slowly. In the first game, he made four unforced errors and was broken, and his forehand seemed to be drawn magnetically into the net. ESPN commentators Patrick McEnroe and Brad Gilbert believed that the unsteadiness was caused by Federer’s fearful desire to counter Murray’s new, Lendl-era aggression, but it could just as easily have been a generic slow start. Either way, Murray was more proactive than normal in the early going, and it worked for him. He stepped into his backhand and went after his forehand return. On the latter shot, though, I thought he was too aggressive, and that it cost him.

At 2-0 and 3-1 Murray had opportunities to go up a double break. In the first of those games, at deuce, he smacked a low-percentage crosscourt forehand return that landed just wide. In the second of those games, up 3-1, 15-30, with a look at a second serve, Murray went for broke again on his forehand and missed by a few inches. Both times Federer went on to hold and keep himself in the second set. Overall, Murray’s determination to attack was the right one, but that doesn’t mean you can’t also play to the situation—“being aggressive” shouldn’t mean “being aggressive with every single shot.” At that stage, Federer was still getting settled and making errors. That was probably a moment for Murray, no matter what his long-term game plan was, to make Federer play a few balls. As it was, he knocked on the door, but couldn’t blow the first set open.

If Murray wanted a lesson in how to attack situationally, how to pick his spots, he didn’t need to look far. Federer showed his mastery of that skill again today. By 3-4 in the first set, he had found his range. He had stopped the errors, neutralized the Murray attack, and punctuated a forehand winner with his first “Come on!” of the evening. Now it was 3-4, 30-30, and Federer felt comfortable taking the initiative. He chipped and charged the net. The ball sat up for what looked like an easy pass. Except that there is no such thing as an easy pass in the semis of the World Tour Finals against Roger Federer. Murray pulled up and sailed a backhand long. When Federer came in again, with a brilliant inside-in forehand approach, to break on the next point, the momentum had turned for good.

The first set went to a tiebreaker, and Federer saved his most well-measured shotmaking for it. He opened with a forehand winner, and hit another to make it 3-3. In perhaps the match’s biggest point, at 4-4, he came forward, hit a swing volley, and dared Murray to pass him. Murray gave his forehand a rip, straight into the net. At 6-5, Federer finished the set with a surprise serve up the T in the ad court and a deep forehand that drew another error from Murray. The London crowd, firmly in the Swiss man’s corner, roared. It felt like a great escape, and a long climb back for Murray.

That feeling never changed. Federer fed off the positive energy, while Murray sagged visibly and quickly appeared out of ideas. The key was another blown lead by the Scot. Up 40-0 on his serve at 1-1, Murray grew passive, let the game get back to deuce, and sliced a backhand limply into the net. Federer pounced again, breaking with another inside-in forehand. When Murray ended the following game by half-heartedly slicing a forehand drop shot into the bottom of the net, he appeared gutted and at sea. The fiery attack of the first set was long gone. At 4-2, Federer put him out of his misery with another chip and charge off of a second serve, and a sharp crosscourt backhand pass to break. Federer’s 7-6(5), 6-2 win was soon complete, and he was off to his third straight final at the 02 Arena.

Two stat stand out: Murray’s percentage of points won on his second serve (37), and the number of returns Federer missed on second serves (0; he was 34 for 34). Against most of today’s two-handed baseliners, Muzz can get away with a no-bite, middle-of-the-box second delivery. But Federer made him pay for it, both with his lack of errors and his ability to come forward at strategic moments. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that Murray’s second serve is the biggest liability of any shot among the Big 4.

Still, the story today, as it so often is, was Roger Federer. This time it was his sixth sense for what tactic to use at what moment, for when to attack and when to be safe, for keeping the score close before seizing his opportunity, for taking what's given to him, that was on display most prominently. Federer showed that it’s not enough to have an aggressive “mindset,” which is what Murray has spent the season developing. You have to use your mind to make it work for you from one situation to the next.

The next situation for Federer is Novak Djokovic. Their final tomorrow will be a fitting end to 2012. Each has a major and two wins against the other. One is No. 1 and the other No. 2. The winner may be the Player of the Year. Neither wants an up year to end on a down note.

World Tour Finals: Djokovic d. Del Potro

Sun, 11 Nov 2012 17:54:00 +0000

Novak Djokovic staged another brilliant comeback to reach the last day of the World Tour Finals for the first time since winning it in 2008, outlasting and ultimately mastering Juan Martin del Potro 4-6, 6-3, 6-2.

Appropriately for this London setting, “keep calm and carry on” seems to be Djokovic’s motto these days. Even as he raised his game in the second set, he played within himself enough to have energy and concentration to spare for the crucial third set. It was gripping from the start. Saving two break points in his first service game with a strong serve and a series of rock-solid forehands while refusing to be pushed back off the baseline, del Potro quickly hit on a couple of plays that yielded consistent dividends — judiciously-timed drop shots followed by passing winners, and smoothly redirecting the ball down the line to close cross-court exchanges. The latter play earned him 15-30 on Djokovic’s serve at 3-3, then the Serb hammered a smash into the net and it was Djokovic’s turn to save two break points in style.

There was almost nothing to separate the two, but del Potro was playing with fewer unforced errors than Djokovic, whose forehand when stretched wide was looking fragile. Del Potro unerringly targeted that spot and earned the break, serving out the set to love to finish with a 70% first serve percentage and a fist pump. He picked up right where he left off, opening the second set with a lob winner over Djokovic’s head, then getting to 15-30 after another lob which Djokovic could only unsuccessfully attempt to return between-the-legs. Although Djokovic fought off three break points to hold, at 1-1 del Potro effortlessly absorbed everything Djokovic threw at him in a 33-shot rally to break with a fine combination of forehands.

He looked all set for a return to the finals — and then it went, as it sometimes can, horribly, inexplicably wrong. Djokovic played his finest shot for a while for 15-15 and whether a consequent seed of doubt or an excess of confidence was to blame, del Potro made a rash of unforced errors to hand back the break. It was a crash back to earth heard round the world and after Djokovic held, del Potro played another terrible service game to be broken and shanked a forehand long to surrender the set, 3-6.

The smart money always has to be on Djokovic in a third set these days, and he didn’t disappoint. Suddenly fleet of foot again, he stopped trying to disrupt del Potro with slice and instead concentrated on moving him around, stretching him out wide to the backhand wherever he could and going back behind him when he couldn’t. It worked beautifully and Djokovic broke immediately to lead 2-1. With del Potro not moving well enough to control the middle of the court behind the good shots he did manage to land, it was Djokovic’s turn to mercilessly carve up his opponent with his own forehand, not blasted but repeatedly perfectly weighted and measured on to the lines. Just such a forehand on to the back of the line broke del Potro again for 5-2 and Djokovic served out the match without a thoroughly demoralized del Potro being able to put a return in court. I’d call it a stunning reversal of fortune, were it not that Djokovic has made such comebacks look almost routine.

World Tour Finals: Ferrer d. Tipsarevic

Sat, 10 Nov 2012 22:18:00 +0000

Throughout the week, the players have been at one in insisting that despite the round-robin format, they’re not thinking about qualification scenarios or mathematical permutations, but just about winning the match in front of them, as professionals, as competitors. It’s difficult to believe, to be honest, but David Ferrer at least seems to mean what he says. Already eliminated from the tournament in a particularly painful fashion — superseded in the group by del Potro, whom he beat earlier in the week — no one would have blamed Ferrer for essentially taking his ball and going home, especially with the imminent prospect of leading his team in the Davis Cup finals next weekend, especially when he lost the first set 4-6. Instead, he rallied for no particular reason other than pure competitive cussedness (money and points probably helped), defeating Janko Tipsarevic 4-6, 6-3, 6-1.

Tipsarevic, too ill to practice earlier in the week, has been more notable for gallows humor off the court than his performances on it, getting just four games in each of his round-robin matches against Federer and del Potro. With tonight’s match (aside from the aforesaid money and points) the last of his season and deciding nothing but the semifinal match-ups, it was a bizarre yet somehow fitting moment for Tipsarevic to find some manic energy — if not finesse. Ferrer started understandably flat and erratic, making 13 of his total 27 unforced errors in the first set, and Tipsarevic raced to a 4-0 lead with Ferrer a step slow and scrambling behind the baseline.

It was the best it would get for Tipsarevic, really. A hold to love for Ferrer steeled the Spaniard and serving at 4-1, Tipsarevic put himself in trouble with two unforced errors. It was all the encouragement Ferrer needed, breaking after another backhand error from the Serb, and Tipsarevic found himself mired in an exchange of breaks with the rapidly improving Ferrer. He did well to serve the set out 6-4 with a fine combination of forehand winners, but was broken to love at the beginning of the second set and somehow it was Ferrer now who was playing up on the baseline for the majority of the points while Tipsarevic was scrambling three or four feet behind it.

Still, Tipsarevic had his chances to get back in the match. In the second set, a terrible off-forehand blasted out of the court handed him the break back, and in the third, he fought his way to a break point as Ferrer served at 0-1. He couldn’t maintain the former or capitalize on the latter; handed a short ball, he tried for a backhand angle that was far too acute and did not hold serve again, broken for the match shortly afterwards.

The last big tournament played in London ended with Murray beating Federer and del Potro beating Djokovic. There will be no medals on the line this time, but there’s a big title to win and evolving rivalries to contend. It should be anything but a gloomy Sunday.

World Tour Finals: Del Potro d. Federer

Sat, 10 Nov 2012 17:38:00 +0000

After suffering six defeats to Roger Federer this year, some of them excruciating, Juan Martin del Potro gained his second measure of revenge, backing up his triumph in Basel with a 7-6 (3), 4-6, 6-3 victory to claim his place in the semifinals of the ATP World Tour Finals.

There’s no getting away from the fact that, due to the round-robin format, the stakes for the two players on the court today were heavily lopsided: del Potro had to win to avoid getting on the plane home, while Federer had already qualified for the final stages by virtue of two wins already this week. Still, there’s no question that del Potro was better and more clinical than his erratic opponent, finishing with 20 unforced errors to Federer’s 42.

It was a staccato, serve-dominated affair in which Federer’s range on his groundstrokes seemed to drift in and out of focus. Throughout the match, Federer struggled to deal with del Potro’s fearsome cross-court forehand, clearly unwilling to be drawn into the long cross-court exchanges favored by the Argentine but unable to consistently or effectively redirect the ball up the line. Still, it was the six-time champion who made the first move, earning three break points on del Potro’s serve at 3-4. The first two were saved by del Potro with an ace and a forehand right on to the baseline, but it was the third that would prove to be a troubling omen as Federer, with a strong position in the point, sent a forehand long.

It was symptomatic of the strange absence of Federer’s usually-reliable killer instinct and it came back to haunt him again in the first-set tie break. With del Potro’s forehand firing relentlessly, Federer made consecutive forehand errors, then had a backhand down the line winner overruled by the Argentine’s Hawkeye challenge. Trailing 1-6, Federer protected two set points with strong serving, but even having what he thought was a service winner for the set overturned by Hawkeye when he was already walking to his chair didn’t disturb del Potro, returning to the baseline and serving another to close out a 53-minute set.

It would prove to be the most closely-contested, with the second and third sets much quicker and decided by a single service break either way. Del Potro blinked and Federer played his best return game of the match to take a 1-0 lead in the second set. While it was enough to even up the match, the interruption to del Potro’s service rhythm proved only momentary and it was early enough in the set that del Potro did not start the third set reeling. Quite the contrary: after holding to love, del Potro pummeled Federer’s forehand for two errors and 30-30, then made a clean backhand pass up the line as Federer’s approach was not nearly testing enough. It was only one break point, but it was all that del Potro needed.

Del Potro’s service percentage climbed into the eighties as Federer’s plummeted, and with the match bedeviled by bizarrely poor line-calling (the umpire overruled only once, and that wrongly) the defending champion was frustrated enough to shout at himself by the end of the match. On his first match point, del Potro found himself scrambling at the back of the court as Federer came in but still made a shot testing enough to elicit a volley into the net which sent him into the semifinals.

World Tour Finals: Murray d. Tsonga

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 22:53:00 +0000

On the brief changeover after Andy Murray took the first set from Jo-Wilfried Tsonga today at the Urch (a.k.a. the O2 arena, which resembles a giant sea urchin), the Scot asked chair umpire Mohamed Leyhani to confirm what most everybody but himself seemed to know: that by winning that set, he qualified for the second semifinal place (right behind Novak Djokovic) in Group A at the ATP World Tour Finals.

Leyhani should have ignored the question. Remaining in ignorant bliss might have enabled Murray to make shorter work of a match in which he almost blew the the second set (Tsonga had a set point with Murray serving near the end) before he nailed it down, 6-2, 7-6 (3).

The match wrapped up a perfectly dismal World Tour Final for Tsonga, a finalist in this event last year but winless in 12 matches against Top 8 players this year. It’s back to the drawing board for Tsonga, but at least now he has the help of new coach Roger Rasheed for 2013.

Murray looked sharp at the start; he surely knew that all he needed to do to qualify for the single-elimination finale was win a set. He broke Tsonga in the very first game when the hulking Frenchman made a backhand passing shot error. It was just the beginning of Jo-Willy’s problems. Murray held, then ran off four of the next five points to record his second break.

In the blink of an eye, it seemed, it was set/qualifying point for Murray. He converted it when Tsonga overhit a forehand second-serve return.

For all of his talent as a spectacular shotmaker, Tsonga is not a player designed for the kind wind-sucking, warp-speed, angle-busting rallies in which Murray and Djokovic traffic. He’s much better off applying his power and using his energy discreetly, interspersed with those sometimes gloriously athletic episodes in which he specializes.

The problem for Tsonga is that his shot selection is still sometimes baffling, which tees it up for quality opponents, and his backhand is significantly less threatening than his forehand. Murray found that backhand often today, and it almost always ended badly for Tsonga.

Tsonga made one significant adjustment after he was bombarded in that first set. He began to play more aggressively, especially when he had opportunities to move forward to the net. For the match, Tsonga was successful on 19 of 27 trips to the forecourt. I’d guess that 20 of those forays were in the second set. That’s the kind of thing Tsonga needs to keep doing to fully exploit the advantages of his height and power—it also conserved valuable energy that ends up wasted if he repeatedly engages in long rallies that his backhand keeps him from winning.

Much like his round-robin match with Djokovic, Murray was in firm control for a good set and a half. He led Tsonga by 4-2 in the second (and had yet to face a break point), but he appeared to relax while the Frenchman suddenly seemed determined to make a fight of it, even if the effort was a day late and a dollar short.

Murray clung to his one-break lead until the eighth game, when Tsonga reached 0-40 following the longest and perhaps best point of the match, a spirited exchange that featured a little bit of everything and ended when Murray hit a defensive lob just out. Tsonga broke him immediately to get back even at 4-all. Tsonga got to set point in the 12th game, but Murray dispatched that with a convincing inside-out forehand after a brief rally and went on to force the tiebreaker.

From there, it was Murray all the way. Yet another backhand error gave Murray a mini-break for 3-2. After two holds, Tsonga made a forehand error that left him down 2-6. Murray converted his second match point with an ace.

World Tour Finals: Djokovic d. Berdych

Fri, 09 Nov 2012 16:57:00 +0000

Novak Djokovic beat Tomas Berdych in two very different but equally familiar ways today. In the first set, he did what he usually does against the bigger, stiffer Czech. Djokovic played more flexible defense, returned serve presciently, kept the ball deep and Berdych off the net, and controlled the rallies with seemingly little strain. He won that set 6-2. If you were wondering why Djokovic’s head-to-head record against Berdych was so one-sided—10-1 coming into this match—that set likely answered any remaining questions. In it, Berdych, a power player, managed just three winners and won just 31 percent of points on his second serve. In his earlier matches, against Andy Murray and Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, Berdych had been able to take his ground strokes inside the baseline and finish points at the net. Not so against Djokovic’s speed and depth.

This was Djokovic the efficient baseline machine, the tennis clinician. In the second set, we saw his other side, the tightrope walking daredevil who needs to be pushed the edge before he can relax and play his best. That guy showed up when Novak was serving, up a break, at 2-1. He hit an easy backhand long for 0-30. He let Berdych get in for a winning volley for 15-40. He was broken for the first time. It might have been the fact that with his first set win, Djokovic clinched a spot in the WTF’s semifinals, but he lost just enough concentration to give Berdych some unexpected hope. Now it was the Czech who was stepping in and dictating the neutral rallies.

The set progressed that way, with no breaks, until Djokovic served at 5-6. Berdych snapped off a backhand pass to reach 15-30. The crowd roared more loudly than it had all day; a third set looked possible. It probably looked that way to Berdych as well, because he chose that moment to make two bad unforced errors with his more vulnerable shot, his forehand. Djokovic hit an ace to hold. It was a harbinger of the tiebreaker to come.

Berdych opened the breaker with two volley winners. When he connected for a forehand winner to make it 5-1, a third set looked more than possible. But old habits, and characters, never really die in tennis, and both Berdych and Djokovic quickly reverted to familiar form. The Serb, playing fast and loose with his back to the wall as always, found his crosscourt forehand and his mind-reader's return. The big point came with Berdych leading 6-5; here was his last chance at the set. Djokovic anticipated his serve up the middle, pushed Berdych back with his return, and watched as he tried to do too much with a backhand, got his body twisted up, and blasted the ball into the middle of the net. At 6-6, Berdych’s forehand deserted him again, as he hit an inch wide. On the next point, Djokovic wrapped it up with a service winner, for a 6-2, 7-6(6) win and a ticket to the semifinals. The top seed advances with a 3-0 record and just one set surrendered.

Advice for Berdych: If the score is tight, don’t go for all-out winners on your forehand. Advice for Djokovic: If it's allowed, forfeit all of the points until you're down break point, or set point, or match point, or 1-5 in a tiebreaker. Today, when Djokovic went down by that score, it really did look like he believed he had Berdych right where he wanted him. He was almost flawless from there, while Berdych panicked.

Take your pick, clinical first set or Houdini-esque second set, now you know why Novak Djokovic owns Tomas Berdych.

World Tour Finals: Del Potro d. Tipsarevic

Thu, 08 Nov 2012 22:11:00 +0000

By the end of Juan Martin del Potro’s 6-0 first set win over Janko Tipsarevic this evening, the only question worth asking seemed to be whether the loser should have bothered showing up at all. Tipsarevic has been sick; he defaulted late in the third set against Jerzy Janowicz in Paris last week due to a virus, and was run off the court by Roger Federer on Tuesday in London. He could have pulled out and let Richard Gasquet play this one. By the start of the second set, the fans at the 02 Arena, who had paid to see this singles match and no other singles match, seemed like they wished he had. Their cries of “Go Janko” sounded half like cheers and half like heckles. Tipsy himself couldn’t blame them. Afterward he said, “I’m playing worse than horrible.”

But while Tipsarevic would lose the second set as well, 6-4, he made it respectable and, for a point or two at least, entertaining. He even seemed to gain energy as he went. At 2-4, he came up with a nice reflex forehand volley to hold, and in the following game made a stab short hop get that dropped neatly into the corner for a winner. At 4-5, when he opened with his best backhand of the day, a crosscourt winner, the crowd was fully behind him. But Tipsy’s next forehand caught the tape and refused to go over. That was as far as he would push, but it was farther than we would have thought a few minutes earlier.

I was curious to see this match mainly because I wanted to see del Potro’s form. He’s coming off a big win over one of his nemeses, Roger Federer, in Basel a couple of weeks ago, but he had succumbed yet again to another, David Ferrer, in his first match in London. While it’s hard to take too much away from today's match, del Potro did have his vintage cannon-shot forehand going from the start, he kept Tipsarevic shuttling from one corner to the other, and he backed up his second serve well—del Potro won 71 percent of those points. He also didn’t lose his concentration, even when he appeared to think that Tipsarevic was going to retire after the first set. And just when Tipsy seemed to be taking heart in the final game, del Potro came up with perhaps his best shot of the night, a flicked backhand down the line for a winner.

That’s how Tipsarevic’s season will end. As for del Potro, if he beats Federer on Saturday, he’ll go through to the semis. In most other scenarios, though, he’ll be eliminated and Ferrer will advance. It’s fitting that del Potro, who has already played Federer seven times this year and lost six of those matches, will have his season come down to one last meeting with the Maestro.