Losing on his Terms

I began watching tennis more closely while Andy Roddick was still at the height of his game. Roddick enjoyed time as a top-five player for a couple years, and was America's one hope on the men's side for a victory. During his time of strong play of course, there was this other guy he was constantly trying to best: Roger Federer. It didn't take long to learn my rooting against Federer when Roddick played him was futile: this Federer cat was unreal. Seemingly every shot was perfect, and he could shoot just about any one of them he wanted at a given moment in a game. How were you supposed to beat a guy like that? Eventually, as it became clear Roddick was not going to challenge Fed for long, and Fed piled up major titles, my frustration turned to fandom. Even for a marginal tennis fan like myself, the guy was just too fun to watch.

Which is why it can be absolutely brutal to watch matches like last night's (this morning's?) Australian Open, in which Federer was beaten in four sets by Rafael Nadal. I fancy Federer as the greatest men's tennis player ever, but that's a tough argument to make, because how can the greatest be absolutely owned by any other player? And make no mistake, Rafa owns Roger. He's now 8-2 in majors head-to-head with Federer, with the two losses coming much earlier in his career on his worst surface at the time. Since then, its been all-Nadal, and it hasn't even been that hard. It's gotten to the point where Nadal has such a mental edge on Federer you can see it on the court (you could see it last night).

Last night, however, Federer looked like he had a real chance at taking Nadal down. He dominated the early games, gave a break back late in the first set in a brain-fart of a game, but recovered and owned the tiebreaker to take a one set lead. And while I'm no expert on tennis, it was clear what was working for Federer; the announcers mentioned it over and over: he was hitting everything to Nadal's backhand, and not letting any shots float; no slices, no lobs, keeping everything low to keep it away from Nadal's vicious forehand. And after a break in the first game of the second set, Roger looked like he was on his way. Until he was broken back at love. And then broken twice more in the set.

Even in the third set, when Federer was at least hitting good shots and playing well, the change in his game was evident. He was not shying away from the forehand anymore. He was still mixing up his shots and coming to net plenty, but giving Rafa the chance to beat him with the forehand much more often. Guess what? Rafa usually answered the bell on the forehand side, with some fantastic passing shots and winners. It was one of the more interesting matches of tennis I've ever watched, as you could see Federer start to press more as he fell behind, trying to hit the perfect shot on most points (and missing more often than hitting it) rather than just staying in the point.

As the match got away from Roger, ESPN's Patrick McEnroe and Darren Cahill could only speculate as to why Federer was not continually pounding it to Nadal's backhand side. That was how Djokovic owned Rafa all of last year, they said. That is when Roger has been the most successful in this match, they said. But McEnroe brought up a point that made the most sense to me. He wondered if because Roger had been so used to being the dominant player for years, that it was too boring to do win in such a way as to play the same shots for an entire four sets. He wondered whether maybe Roger wanted to win his way, not the way that gave him the best chance at winning.

There are a couple reasons Roger Federer is my favorite tennis player. One is that unlike the other tennis players in today's game, he doesn't moan over every shot he misses. He puts on a much more stoic persona while on the court. He is sort of like the rare professional soccer player who doesn't act like he's been shot every time he is met with resistance from an opposing player. It's refreshing after watching all the other players celebrating on marginally important points and gesturing and swearing on the court after they miss any shot, to see Roger seemingly take it all in stride. The other big reason is because Roger can hit every shot there is to hit, and he mixes all of them into his game. The result is him being the best (for awhile), but more importantly for my tastes, his style of play makes for an exciting tennis game. Whereas Nadal and Djokovic play a much safer (and probably smarter) game from the baseline, playing unbelievable defense, ripping returns all day and hitting marvelous shots when they need them, Federer goes for it. He mixes his serve locations and speeds, serves and volleys, hits one-handed backhands down the line or cross court, mixes in drop-shots more than any other player, and comes to the net to mix things up. His game of forcing the issue is more entertaining.

So did McEnroe hit the nail on the head? Did Federer know he had a clear advantage, but feel somehow that a win in which he didn't go after Nadal at all places in the court wouldn't count for as much? Based on what I saw during the match, it seems overwhelmingly possible. Perhaps I am inclined to agree with McEnroe's assessment because I am in total agreement with Federer's sentiment if it's true. Listening to the announcers talk about going to Nadal's backhand incessantly, I couldn't help but think of playing intramural volleyball. In college my friends and I put together a rag-tag group who just wanted to have fun, maybe land some spikes or get a couple blocks to sweeten the deal. We had one guy who had played in high school, and the rest of us were athletic enough to move around the court, but put zero touch on our passes. But we had signed up for the recreation league (as opposed to competitive), so we figured it would be fine.

Invariably, opposing teams would be fielding two members who were high school stars or members of the club volleyball team at Dayton (read: they were really good). Them being there was not too bothersome, but it sure did get annoying when those teams were only interested in setting up their big-hitters for spikes, which those guys would promptly pound into the court or, rarely, our outstretched arms only to bounce halfway across the gym out of play. What was the point of having those guys on a rec team? Were the guys who were our skill level playing with them having any fun being called off the ball so they could watch their good teammates take care of business? I never quite understood. The league was just for fun, so it didn't bother me that we weren't winning, but I couldn't help but wonder what those guys' motivation was. Getting a win in intramurals? In a way that you didn't even do anything to really earn it? Where's the satisfaction?

Of course, at the Australian Open, the rewards of winning are a little sweeter than in the University of Dayton men's Rec-Volleyball league (an intramural champion t-shirt). But in my mind, the principle is the same. Doesn't playing to cause the other player to lose cheapen the win a little bit when compared to winning on your own terms? Isn't there a bit more satisfaction to be had in the latter than the former? For me, yes. For Roger Federer, there just might be as well. This would only serve to make me like him more, but be even more frustrated when he chooses to play to win, but loses.