[Statutory warning: indulging myself with a tennis post – the sort I would happily write two or three times each week, if I had the time and was doing it professionally. Did a version of this for Business Standard Weekend. Ignore if you haven’t followed men’s tennis in the past decade]
One hazard of being both a fixated tennis-watcher and innately interested in numbers is that odd combinations of match scores and player statistics swirl about in your head, keeping you awake nights. For example: in my long, eventful fandom of Rafael Nadal, there have been two key occasions – both on the eve of a Slam final – when I have dwelled upon the formula “12 versus 6”, expecting it to become “12-7” the next day but secretly hoping it would be “13-6”. In both cases, the hope was pleasingly and unexpectedly realised.
1 ) nearly five years ago, before the 2009 Australian Open final between Rafa and his great rival Roger Federer, the head-to-head between the two players was 12-6 in Rafa’s favour. I’m not one of those Nadal fans who point to the lopsided H2H as evidence that Rafa is “better” than Roger, but I admit to getting some satisfaction from it, thinking of it as part of his overall legacy. And in January 2009, I had resigned myself to Federer winning that final. The counter in my head had already ticked over: “The head-to-head is going to be 12-7 now,” I told myself. “C’est la vie.” Well, as any tennis follower knows, that didn’t happen. 13-6 happened instead.
2 ) last weekend, when Nadal and his greatest current rival, Novak Djokovic, won their US Open semi-finals and prepared to play each other for the trophy, a different sort of head-to-head comparison came into play. Nadal had 12 Slam titles, Djokovic had 6. Which meant that at the end of the match, the comparative Slam-count would be either 13-6 or 12-7. Midway through the match, I was convinced Djokovic had the thing wrapped up. Always dangerous against Rafa, he had raised shot execution to the level of intent, and some of the rallies were resembling highlight reels from their meetings in 2011, when Djokovic beat Nadal six straight times. But again, Nadal found a way and 13-6 it was.
Yes, this coincidence of numbers is an obscure thing to go on about, but I'm using it to make a couple of points. First, these matches were against Nadal's most important opponents, the two other top male players of the past decade (but more on that later). Second, it could be argued that he had no business winning either of those matches. Two days before that Australian Open final against Federer, he had played an intense, debilitating five-hour semi-final against Fernando Verdasco, and he would later write in his memoir that he never thought he would recover in time for the final. (I believe him: in Chennai the year earlier, Nadal played a marathon three-set semi against Carlos Moya, and then, depleted, mustered just one game in the final the next day.) Meanwhile, Federer had been stunningly imperious – even by his own standards – in his quarter-final and semi-final, and had had an extra day’s rest. Even given the nature of the match-up, which favoured Rafa, there was no reason to think he could win his very first hard-court Slam final against one of the finest hard-court players of all time.
Watching him pull that off – and then watching him, earlier this week, finding a way to meet Djokovic’s flashes of un-playable-ness with his own solidity and counter-aggression – have been just two in a long line of happy surprises that have come with being a longtime Nadal follower.
Constantly being surprised – that is what Rafa fandom has been like, at least for a diffident, forever-hoping-for-the-worst fan like me. The goal-posts for what is possible, what can realistically be achieved, have kept changing. Back in 2006, I was surprised when he beat Federer at the French Open final (it was the first time Rampaging Roger had ever lost a title match at a Slam) because I thought it was pre-destined that Federer would complete his Career Slam that year. Then I was surprised when Rafa won his first major off clay, at the historic 2008 Wimbledon final.
I was surprised when he won a hard-court major, surprised when he made a brilliant comeback in 2010, following a disappointing few months affected by injury. And now, in the second half of his career, at a point where he should rightly be starting his decline (a player who first became a Slam-winner nine seasons ago can usually be expected to be past his peak), I have been astonished both by his comeback this year (10 titles in 13 tournament appearances, a 17-1 record against top 10 players) after another injury break, and by the fact that he has been able to win important hard-court matches against Djokovic.
But then Nadal often seems surprised by himself too: as he said of Djokovic after the USO final, “Sometimes I really don’t know how I am able to beat him.” I have written elsewhere about the sandbagging – or the public lowering of expectations – that he is often accused of (“I have to play my very best to have a chance to win,” he often says in interviews before facing an opponent ranked several dozen spots below him). It’s an attitude I personally relate to, but more to the point, it is an understandable one given the many physical struggles he has had - notably with congenital foot and knee issues - over his career, and the fact that he has frequently had to play catch-up on surfaces other than his favourite clay.
Djokovic has long been an important part of this story. In 2008, when he first emerged as an A-plus-level player, seriously challenging Rafa’s hold on the number 2 spot behind Federer, I read a long, thoughtful comment on a tennis website suggesting that Rafa was destined to be a brief interlude between the Federer Era and the Djokovic Era, a clay-court champ whose short career would be sandwiched between those of two all-time greats of the sport; at best, perhaps, he would achieve something akin to Lleyton Hewitt, who honourably commandeered the ATP fort for a season and a half between Pete Sampras’s decline and Federer’s rise. And this view seemed reasonable enough: Nadal hadn’t won a Slam off clay yet, and Djokovic (who Pete Bodo had described as “the perfect player” as early as 2007) seemed a more complete, all-round, all-surface champion.
What has actually transpired over the years is – again from the viewpoint of a perpetually pessimistic fan – quite wondrous. Nadal has continued to be not merely relevant but often dominant in his individual rivalries against Federer and Djokovic, weathering storms when each of these players were in prime, world-conquering form. And while being a game-spoiler for both of them to varying degrees (they would both have had even more impressive records if the Spaniard had not existed), he has also presented them with new challenges and made this entire tennis era seem a little more charged up and intriguing than it may otherwise have been. As a sandbagging fan, I’m only just starting to deal with the idea that there might actually have been such a thing as the Rafael Nadal Era, and that we may have been in it for the past six or seven years (and this is said with no disrespect to Federer – who I still regard the better overall player – or to Djokovic).
****
About something more specific: there has been some talk recently about Nadal’s shift to a more attacking style of play on hard courts, a style tailored to make his game more efficient and help protect creaky limbs on a playing surface he has never been particularly fond of. This change, I think, is also showing in his demeanor on court, in displays of relaxedness that are different from the way he normally is in the heat of competition.
For instance, in the fourth set of the USO final, when Rafa was up 3-1, serving at 30-15, he sent down a first serve that was called out, then decided to challenge the call (asking for a replay on the Hawkeye system) – but he was simultaneously shrugging to himself and getting back into his serving position as if to say “I know it probably was wide, but might as well check.” This casualness was atypical, I thought. After all, the match was by no means over. He was only one break up, against a dangerous, unpredictable player famous for making comebacks; there had already been breaks of serve in games where the server had initially seemed in control; and if the challenge was wrong (as Rafa seemed to know it was), it would mean that he had interrupted his own playing rhythm just before a crucial second serve. But all that didn’t seem to matter: it felt like he knew he essentially had things in hand. Shortly afterward, still a few points away from the win, he was trotting about the court looking more laidback – even smiling a little – than I can ever recall seeing him in a similar situation.
Perhaps this comes out of having been out of the game for several months, not knowing if he would be able to come back or play at a high level again – and consequently just being grateful for whatever chances he gets. Whatever the case, if that’s the attitude we see in the next few months, I’ll take it – with fingers crossed, of course, that the knees can keep pace with the extraordinary mental strength.
[Some earlier tennis pieces: on rivalries and fan narratives; the war within Rafa; a review of Nadal's memoir]
One hazard of being both a fixated tennis-watcher and innately interested in numbers is that odd combinations of match scores and player statistics swirl about in your head, keeping you awake nights. For example: in my long, eventful fandom of Rafael Nadal, there have been two key occasions – both on the eve of a Slam final – when I have dwelled upon the formula “12 versus 6”, expecting it to become “12-7” the next day but secretly hoping it would be “13-6”. In both cases, the hope was pleasingly and unexpectedly realised.
1 ) nearly five years ago, before the 2009 Australian Open final between Rafa and his great rival Roger Federer, the head-to-head between the two players was 12-6 in Rafa’s favour. I’m not one of those Nadal fans who point to the lopsided H2H as evidence that Rafa is “better” than Roger, but I admit to getting some satisfaction from it, thinking of it as part of his overall legacy. And in January 2009, I had resigned myself to Federer winning that final. The counter in my head had already ticked over: “The head-to-head is going to be 12-7 now,” I told myself. “C’est la vie.” Well, as any tennis follower knows, that didn’t happen. 13-6 happened instead.
2 ) last weekend, when Nadal and his greatest current rival, Novak Djokovic, won their US Open semi-finals and prepared to play each other for the trophy, a different sort of head-to-head comparison came into play. Nadal had 12 Slam titles, Djokovic had 6. Which meant that at the end of the match, the comparative Slam-count would be either 13-6 or 12-7. Midway through the match, I was convinced Djokovic had the thing wrapped up. Always dangerous against Rafa, he had raised shot execution to the level of intent, and some of the rallies were resembling highlight reels from their meetings in 2011, when Djokovic beat Nadal six straight times. But again, Nadal found a way and 13-6 it was.
Yes, this coincidence of numbers is an obscure thing to go on about, but I'm using it to make a couple of points. First, these matches were against Nadal's most important opponents, the two other top male players of the past decade (but more on that later). Second, it could be argued that he had no business winning either of those matches. Two days before that Australian Open final against Federer, he had played an intense, debilitating five-hour semi-final against Fernando Verdasco, and he would later write in his memoir that he never thought he would recover in time for the final. (I believe him: in Chennai the year earlier, Nadal played a marathon three-set semi against Carlos Moya, and then, depleted, mustered just one game in the final the next day.) Meanwhile, Federer had been stunningly imperious – even by his own standards – in his quarter-final and semi-final, and had had an extra day’s rest. Even given the nature of the match-up, which favoured Rafa, there was no reason to think he could win his very first hard-court Slam final against one of the finest hard-court players of all time. Watching him pull that off – and then watching him, earlier this week, finding a way to meet Djokovic’s flashes of un-playable-ness with his own solidity and counter-aggression – have been just two in a long line of happy surprises that have come with being a longtime Nadal follower.
Constantly being surprised – that is what Rafa fandom has been like, at least for a diffident, forever-hoping-for-the-worst fan like me. The goal-posts for what is possible, what can realistically be achieved, have kept changing. Back in 2006, I was surprised when he beat Federer at the French Open final (it was the first time Rampaging Roger had ever lost a title match at a Slam) because I thought it was pre-destined that Federer would complete his Career Slam that year. Then I was surprised when Rafa won his first major off clay, at the historic 2008 Wimbledon final.
I was surprised when he won a hard-court major, surprised when he made a brilliant comeback in 2010, following a disappointing few months affected by injury. And now, in the second half of his career, at a point where he should rightly be starting his decline (a player who first became a Slam-winner nine seasons ago can usually be expected to be past his peak), I have been astonished both by his comeback this year (10 titles in 13 tournament appearances, a 17-1 record against top 10 players) after another injury break, and by the fact that he has been able to win important hard-court matches against Djokovic.
But then Nadal often seems surprised by himself too: as he said of Djokovic after the USO final, “Sometimes I really don’t know how I am able to beat him.” I have written elsewhere about the sandbagging – or the public lowering of expectations – that he is often accused of (“I have to play my very best to have a chance to win,” he often says in interviews before facing an opponent ranked several dozen spots below him). It’s an attitude I personally relate to, but more to the point, it is an understandable one given the many physical struggles he has had - notably with congenital foot and knee issues - over his career, and the fact that he has frequently had to play catch-up on surfaces other than his favourite clay.
Djokovic has long been an important part of this story. In 2008, when he first emerged as an A-plus-level player, seriously challenging Rafa’s hold on the number 2 spot behind Federer, I read a long, thoughtful comment on a tennis website suggesting that Rafa was destined to be a brief interlude between the Federer Era and the Djokovic Era, a clay-court champ whose short career would be sandwiched between those of two all-time greats of the sport; at best, perhaps, he would achieve something akin to Lleyton Hewitt, who honourably commandeered the ATP fort for a season and a half between Pete Sampras’s decline and Federer’s rise. And this view seemed reasonable enough: Nadal hadn’t won a Slam off clay yet, and Djokovic (who Pete Bodo had described as “the perfect player” as early as 2007) seemed a more complete, all-round, all-surface champion.What has actually transpired over the years is – again from the viewpoint of a perpetually pessimistic fan – quite wondrous. Nadal has continued to be not merely relevant but often dominant in his individual rivalries against Federer and Djokovic, weathering storms when each of these players were in prime, world-conquering form. And while being a game-spoiler for both of them to varying degrees (they would both have had even more impressive records if the Spaniard had not existed), he has also presented them with new challenges and made this entire tennis era seem a little more charged up and intriguing than it may otherwise have been. As a sandbagging fan, I’m only just starting to deal with the idea that there might actually have been such a thing as the Rafael Nadal Era, and that we may have been in it for the past six or seven years (and this is said with no disrespect to Federer – who I still regard the better overall player – or to Djokovic).
****
About something more specific: there has been some talk recently about Nadal’s shift to a more attacking style of play on hard courts, a style tailored to make his game more efficient and help protect creaky limbs on a playing surface he has never been particularly fond of. This change, I think, is also showing in his demeanor on court, in displays of relaxedness that are different from the way he normally is in the heat of competition.
For instance, in the fourth set of the USO final, when Rafa was up 3-1, serving at 30-15, he sent down a first serve that was called out, then decided to challenge the call (asking for a replay on the Hawkeye system) – but he was simultaneously shrugging to himself and getting back into his serving position as if to say “I know it probably was wide, but might as well check.” This casualness was atypical, I thought. After all, the match was by no means over. He was only one break up, against a dangerous, unpredictable player famous for making comebacks; there had already been breaks of serve in games where the server had initially seemed in control; and if the challenge was wrong (as Rafa seemed to know it was), it would mean that he had interrupted his own playing rhythm just before a crucial second serve. But all that didn’t seem to matter: it felt like he knew he essentially had things in hand. Shortly afterward, still a few points away from the win, he was trotting about the court looking more laidback – even smiling a little – than I can ever recall seeing him in a similar situation.Perhaps this comes out of having been out of the game for several months, not knowing if he would be able to come back or play at a high level again – and consequently just being grateful for whatever chances he gets. Whatever the case, if that’s the attitude we see in the next few months, I’ll take it – with fingers crossed, of course, that the knees can keep pace with the extraordinary mental strength.
[Some earlier tennis pieces: on rivalries and fan narratives; the war within Rafa; a review of Nadal's memoir]
@ Jai - I think he will break Federer's record. In my case, I always felt he would win not because I am a huge fan of his but because he seems more difficult to beat than anyone. It also gives me a bit of satisfaction to note that his record against Fed prevented fans from calling Fed "God" the way they are used to doing to Sachin Tendulkar :) Rafa reminded us all that we are all humans..love him for that
ReplyDeleteI think he will break Federer's record
ReplyDeleteAnd I really don't care - have said it many times before. Not interested in the silly GOAT conversation either. As for Fed being called God - hordes of people already do that and will continue to do it (as many people do for Rafa as well). Can't escape that aspect of sports fandom.
I read a long, thoughtful comment on a tennis website suggesting that Rafa was destined to be a brief interlude between the Federer Era and the Djokovic Era, a clay-court champ whose short career would be sandwiched between those of two all-time greats of the sport; at best, perhaps, he would achieve something akin to Lleyton Hewitt, who honourably commandeered the ATP fort for a season and a half between Pete Sampras’s decline and Federer’s rise
ReplyDeleteDjokovic really emerged as a truly great player only in 2011. Between 2005 and 2010 (both years included), Nadal won some 9 Grand slam titles! Even if you look at a shorter window (2005-2008) he won 5 GS titles. In contrast Hewitt just won 2 GS titles in his entire career!
I don't think Nadal was ever a "brief interlude".
As an aside men's tennis is almost like Chess these days with so very few upsets and with the same 3 players winning all slams. Sharp contrast to the 90s when you had such a variety of styles on display and so many stars to look forward to besides the top 2-3 - the likes of Krajicek, Phillipousis, Rusedski, Todd Martin and Goran.
The drive towards standardization of surfaces is something to be bemoaned. It encourages a certain homogeneity. I just feel the grass court season ought to be much longer than it is to make "lawn" tennis a more interesting game.
Cricket, at the moment, is so much more interesting because of the variables involved in it. The weather, the surfaces, the uneven DRS usage.
Just to make a point, in the past even an "all time great" like John McEnroe won just 7 GS singles titles in his entire career.
ReplyDeleteThese days we have someone like Nadal who notches up 5 GS titles over a 3-4 year period (2005-2008) and yet people wonder if he is a brief "interlude". Where is the sense of proportion!
People don't seem to realize that from a historical perspective what a rare thing it is for someone to win even 5 GS titles over an entire career! Not many have done that.
Shrikanth: uh, where did I say that Nadal was a brief interlude? But if you were following tennis closely in the early months of 2008, you'd know there was a very real possibility of Djokovic becoming the next great player before Rafa. After the Aus Open and Indian Wells wins, he was snapping at Nadal's heels for the number 2 spot - they played two matches, at Hamburg and the French Open, where the winner would be ranked number 2, and Rafa won them both (though Djokovic ran him very close at Hamburg, even though it was clay).
ReplyDeleteAgree about the surface-homogenisation thing, even though it has probably favoured Nadal. The standardising of surfaces is one reason why I find the GOAT conversations so pointless. Federer's 23 straight Slam semis, which I used to think was one of the greatest sporting records ever, is starting to look marginally less impressive now. (Though it is of course VERY impressive.) Even Djokovic has now made 14 straight semis, while Sampras only ever made 4 straight - clearly, that isn't a very good measure of the relative statures of these players.
Jai: I was commenting on the "comment" on the tennis website you referred to.
ReplyDeleteShrikanth: please stop ranting about the "brief interlude" thing! As I clearly said, it was a (reasonable) speculation, made at a point when Nadal had not yet won the 2008 Wimby (so he had three Slams - all at the French - at the time, making it easy to classify him as a one-surface player who would not achieve at the level that the more "talented" Djokovic would).
ReplyDeleteBut of course, I agree that in the Internet age, tennis fans often lose all sense of proportion. Even today, it's possible to see fools finding ways to run down the achievements of Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, Murray or any other top player you'd care to name.
Agree about the surface-homogenisation thing, even though it has probably favoured Nadal. The standardising of surfaces is one reason why I find the GOAT conversations so pointless
ReplyDeleteYes. That's why I am loath to regard this as a golden age for men's tennis though it's probably more popular today than it ever was.
In a sport like cricket where players are constrained by conditions, it is impossible to have Federer-like records! Even the greatest of batsmen don't breach the 60-run average barrier in test cricket. Similarly not even the greatest of bowlers breach the 20-run barrier. Makes one realize what a special sportsman Don Bradman was. Truly a phenomenon in a sport that is least amenable to outlier-records.
@shrikant Well, about constrained by conditions, not like Bradman played against a number of opponents and/or all over the world(of cricket now). I get your point, just playing devil's advocate here. I don't think we can compare cricket and tennis that way though. Plus with cricket, at least in recent times, don't you think the same teams keep playing against each other again and again and even in Test cricket, we are losing context? Ashes will be 5 Tests but no one plays against more than 2 Tests against NZ and that's not even scheduled at regular intervals. I don't think the comparison is right because even without homogenization, it is incredibly tough to be on top of tennis. Forget no. 1 or no. of GS, it is just incredible to be a top 30 player even.
ReplyDelete@Jai: A very pertinent point you make about Nadal's place in this era. It is extremely key. You might have read this but Brian Phillips piece during the French Open laid it out:
"Win or lose, no one pushes the other top players to new heights like Nadal does, which is why he's been involved in a disproportionately large share of great matches over the last … well, eternity. Wimbledon '07, Wimbledon '08, Australia '09, Australia '12; that's just scratching the surface. Federer's the greatest player ever, but I'm increasingly convinced that Nadal is the key to the greatness of this whole era."
http://www.grantland.com/story/_/id/9328021/rafa-nadal-returns-french-open
Forget the minor GOAT quip coming from the Federer fan in Phillips.
13 already and it is incredible what he can do from here.
This is great for 2014 because now Djoker has lost so many tight matches this year and it will be interesting to see how he responds. What if he is the interlude? *runs from Nole fans*
Gradwolf: yes, that Phillips piece is excellent, though I may have forgotten (or internalised) his line about Rafa being the key to the greatness of the era. There certainly is something to that idea. I don't care much for the simplistic dichotomy that says "Federer = all talent, while Rafa = all mental strength" (it's a disservice to both players), but I do feel that Federer playing at his very best couldn't really have been a practical role model for young players, because you can't simply go out and choose to play like that. But it was possible to try and emulate Rafa's perseverance and his attitude to playing nearly every single point. Djokovic and Murray possibly wouldn't have reached the heights they have if Rafa had not existed, and in my view even Federer raised the quality of his defense in the past 4-5 years.
ReplyDeleteWell, about constrained by conditions, not like Bradman played against a number of opponents and/or all over the world(of cricket now). I get your point, just playing devil's advocate here. I don't think we can compare cricket and tennis that way though
ReplyDeleteGradwolf : By conditions I refer to the inherent nature of the game which is a limiting factor. Number of opponents don't make such a big difference. Even in FC cricket where you play within the same country against lesser opponents, hardly anybody averages 60+ (not just today but over the past 200 years!!).
Even in Sydney Grade cricket (which is a few notches below FC cricket) nobody has averaged 70+ in its history barring Bradman (who averaged 87ish).
It's incredibly hard to be an outlier in cricket.
Plus with cricket, at least in recent times, don't you think the same teams keep playing against each other again and again and even in Test cricket, we are losing context?
No. I think some of the test cricket that has been played lately has been of very high quality. Ind-Eng series in India, Aus-SA series in both SA and Aus, Eng-SA series last year.
Forget no. 1 or no. of GS, it is just incredible to be a top 30 player even.
Ofcourse. It is incredibly hard. But the whole ATP tour is predictable. In cricket you cannot guess a player's series average at the beginning of a series with any confidence. Unlike in tennis where you can try guessing the SF draw even before the seeds are finalized. This is because tennis skills are very homogenized these days. Hence it is easier to rank order players. The greater the variety of styles and variety of surfaces, the more the upsets and the harder it will be to stay on top.
It is possible to emulate Rafa's perseverance and attitude but just like Roger you can't just go choose to play like Rafa. He is a freak. From the way he changed from right to left handed, from his extreme western grip and the amount of spin he imparts to the ball to the unbelievable athleticism. Only Rafa can play like Rafa.
ReplyDeleteSiva: yes, of course - as a long-time fan, I have always been annoyed by the idea that Rafa isn't a naturally skilled player but a mere retriever/counter-puncher who always thrives on the other guy's mistakes.
ReplyDelete@shrikant
ReplyDeleteI think context is different from quality. What I am trying to say is, while there might be homogenization, there surely is extreme competition at the top in tennis. And the whole thing is conducted in a much fairer manner. Take out Fed's recent decline and is it possible to predict between the Big 4 in tennis? I only know people who are pained by the 90s era of tennis and in love with the era currently because of the kind of tennis they get to see.
My point with Test cricket is something like what is being said here: http://www.wisdenindia.com/cricket-blog/test-championship-sham/55602 The whole thing isn't exactly entirely fair to make those judgements even if cricket does have those variables at its disposal.
I only know people who are pained by the 90s era of tennis and in love with the era currently because of the kind of tennis they get to see
ReplyDeleteWell, the tennis they get to see these days is more easily appreciated than 90s tennis.
It's a lot easier for a casual watcher to appreciate the thrill of a 35 shot rally than a bunch of 2-3 shot points often ending in unforced errors because of aggressive servs/net games.
Correct me if I'm wrong. But there isn't really anybody today with the sort of second serve that Sampras had at his peak. That was the thrill of the 90s. Players gambling on that BIG second serve and often getting it wrong.
It is not pretty to watch unforced error after unforced error made by players who embraced a high risk game. Eg: Ivanisevic, Rafter. But that doesn't mean their tennis was of a lower quality than that of a Ferrer or a Murray.
It was simply harder to appreciate.
I sense an opportunity--for specialised reporting on Tennis--player profiles, tournament buildups, hits and misses...why don't you try sport journalism? (just to expand your writing portfolio; wink/nudge-ask Shamya?)
ReplyDeleteAnon: not happening, alas - I don't find the energy/time to do even a tiny fraction of the film writing I'd love to do, and this is decidedly a second priority. Besides, I doubt I'll be much interested in tennis once Rafa retires - I'm fickle that way. (Was always much more invested in Tendulkar and in the Australian cricket team than I was in the sport generally.)
ReplyDeleteBtw, if I wanted to write on international tennis, I wouldn't need to ask young Shamya - have other possible avenues.