March on Roger

The modern day individual sport is an unimaginably competitive venture. Men battle men, fight with themselves to get that iota more and tales of valour, grit and victory-from the-face of defeat are commonplace. Indeed, so fiercely intense is sport that larger- than- life- drama on various playing fields of the world are often dismissed as mundane, run of the mill events. However, if in the past three years or so tennis courts around the globe have been privy to something awe inspiringly sublime, if the script has changed from the one describing a battlefield to the one where a solitary artist is painting hitherto unknown but hauntingly beautiful landscapes with bold, deft strokes then lets thank a Swiss named Roger Federer for that.

Federer finished the year by winning the season ending Shanghai Masters Cup. His 92-5 win loss record for the year includes 3 grand slams. Simple numbers that tell the story of the year. What they however do not tell completely is the manner in which it was achieved. Total ruthless domination is one answer but not the entirely correct one. Yes, Federer was ruthless, (he just dropped a set in winning his fourth consecutive Wimbledon and had nineteen 6-0 sets in the year, more than half of which came in the semi-finals and finals of championships), but the sheer artistry and skill on display can never be totally described in numbers. It was as if one man was playing a different game altogether. It was a year Federer “walked on water.”

Indeed, no number one in the history of the Open era has had such a dominant run as Federer seems to be having. At 25, he already has 9 grand slams titles polished and standing on the mantelpiece. He has won 3 slams a year twice. Only on the crimson clay of Roland Garros has a bullfighter-of-a -Spaniard called Rafael Nadal made him look mortal. The other surfaces have given in to his genius. The French Open is perhaps the biggest challenge that Federer faces. But he can play on clay, make no mistake about it. A semi-finalist and a finalist, both times claimed by Nadal, the next year is probably his best chance to win it.

So what do we do with a player like this? A player whose only aim in life seems to be to get his name against records of all kinds. A player who everytime he steps on the court seems to play only against history. A player whose forehand is probably the best ever the game has seen and whose one-handed backhand is reminiscent of the days of wooden racquets, when more than power it was skill that won you the match. A player who beats the ballistic-missile-firing baseliners from the baseline and a serve and a volleyer, if there still is one, from the net. And does all this in such a smooth, graceful manner that even his opponents on the other side of the net cannot help but be serenaded by his magic. If not anything else then Federer is definitely the most liked number one ever.

To understand all this, we try to put things into perspective. We come up with arguments like it is easy for him because his opponents are not good enough. Or that his nine slams have been easy compared to Pete’s who had a tougher field to contend with. Or the idea that serve and volleyers are by definition better players and so the quality today, in the age of baseliners is not the same. For starters, try returning a torpedo of a forehand from the baseline in a reaction time of a fraction of a second! Of course we forget that five of Becker’s six slams came before Sampras’ first. Or that four of Agassi’s eight slams came after he was 29, around the time when Pete was on a downhill. In fact, 13 of Sampras’ slams came before he was 29. So, when we say Sampras’ competitors ended up with 6 slams or 8 slams that is not telling the complete story. The point here though is not to take the sheen off Pete’s phenomenal achievements, but to say that each generation throws up its own competition and it is the sheer skill and supreme talent of Federer that makes it look all so easy.

So ladies and gentlemen, let us marvel at the phenomenon called Roger Fedrer, let us sit back and watch a work of art in progress. Let him hang his boots first, the talk on tennis immortality and greatness can wait. Let us revel in his unadulterated genius till then.