Among his many athletic virtues, Roger Federer is not the Alex
Rodriguez of big time tennis. New York fans complain with some
justification that the MVP slugger chokes at crucial moments, is
not, as sportsmen say, a clutch player. There will be
runners on second and third and two outs in the ninth inning with
the Yankees trailing the Cleveland Indians — or any other team
— by one run and the game needs winning because it’s the
playoffs and what does the mighty Alex do?
Now of course, there are those, like that fine if overly cerebral
writer who used to cover baseball for the New York Sun,
who argue that this is a lot of hooey because the Yankees would
not be in the playoffs against Cleveland or whoever
without A-Rod’s astonishing performance during the regular
season. However, in the tennis equivalent of the clutch moment,
at the end of a closely played set, Federer has an ability to
come through that is very nearly unprecedented. This resilience,
this come-from behind willpower, this endurance and stamina and
courage, this, in short, focus on what matters now, came out very
clearly in the tiebreaker at the end of the second set of the
gentlemen’s singles final at the All-England Lawn Tennis Club,
located at Wimbledon, England.
Federer’s opponent, the powerful Andy Roddick, won the first set
fairly handily, 7-5, and seemed in a position to take the second
by the same score. Instead he faltered under Federer’s relentless
aces in the 12th game. The ability to keep hitting
aces at such a critical moment is, of course, itself an example
of clutch play. Federer has one of the most consistent first
serves in the game, and he almost never double faults. His first
serve is at once strong and tactical, hitting the receiver where
he least expects it. Still, when you are serving to save the set,
you are under some pressure and may be excused for preferring to
get the ball in play and take your chances. Not Roger.
But, having forced a tie-breaker, he somehow fell behind and let
Roddick get to 6-2 (7 points win a tiebreaker.) Two sets up, the
comeback kid (Roddick had not made the finals at Wimbledon since
2005), playing as well as he ever has in his life, would be, of
course, in an advantageous position to close out the match.
Federer stayed calm and let Roddick lose control, notably on the
last point when he sent a fairly easy (for players at this level,
mind) net shot sailing out of bounds instead of blocking it
downward away from his opponent.
Federer, of course, is not only a clutch player. He is also a
fine player — the finest of his generation. He encountered no
serious opposition at Wimbledon this year until the final, even
if in the semi a tough and talented Tommy Haas gave him a serious
workout.
On the ladies’ side the Championships were comparably one-sided,
though the dominating side was composed of two parts. The
Williams sisters made it to the final almost effortlessly. The
one dramatic moment was in the semi-final match between Serena
and Elena Dementieva, who took the first set and played very hard
through the end. Clutch play — saving points when she absolutely
had to — is where Serena Williams showed her skill. It is a
talent more valuable to her than her sheer strength, which
players at her level, even her sister and frail Russians, can get
used to and indeed learn to use against her, letting her make
unforced errors.
After that, the match between the two best players since Billie
Jean King and Martina Navratilova was anti-climatic. They know
each other too well to pull any fast strategic ploys, and the
issue was whether Serena’s powerful game would overcome Venus’s
tactical cross-court hitting and elegant net game. It did. Venus,
who won the Championship in the previous two years, may at last
be falling to her sister’s irresistible self-confidence and, a
talent she shares with Federer, refusal to ever concede a point,
let alone a set of a match.
However, where resilience is concerned, Roddick demonstrated no
less determination. After letting Federer out-steel him in the
second set and fight through a tight third (also going to a
tiebreaker), Roddick fought back, dominating the fourth set 6-3.
The scene was now set, if I may put it this way, for a classic
that, in fact, turned into exactly that, the longest fifth set in
Wimbledon history. (There are no tie breakers in fifth sets at
Wimbledon, a rule that also applies to Davis Cup play and the
French Open, apologies for the error on this point in my
last dispatch and thanks to alert reader Frank Stieber of
Arlington, Virginia, for the correction; Mr. Stieber, be it said
in passing, has a determined forehand crosscourt shot.)
Andy Roddick played a brilliant tournament, showing a tactical
intelligence that surprised many observers, including me. A
marvelous athlete and a gentleman, Roddick has been known for
poor judgment, often going to the net while giving his opponent
an open shot. He made several such errors in the match against
Federer, probably a reflection of the pressure he was under, also
underscored by double faults. (Federer only made two.) But he
never lost heart.
The key to not losing heart in tennis, instructors always tell
you, is to play the point, not the game or the set. Focus on the
immediate task and nothing else, and the immediate task is to
keep control, as the great Bill Tilden said in one of these
deceptively obvious insights of genius, of the ball.
Federer plays a Tildenesque game as well as anyone since Pete
Sampras, in the sense that once he gets the ball in play, which
of course he always does, he determines what kind of point it is
going to be. Playing a relatively restrained net game — he got
almost all his net shots but they were rare — he drove his
opponents to the sidelines and then whipped winners to the
opposite corner. Roddick was able to blunt this by his own
excellent backcourt play. However, in the 29th game of the fifth
set, he finally slowed down and Federer made shots from side to
side and took the game handily. Roddick still was not quitting.
He aced his way through half the thirtieth game, but Federer got
the ball in play often enough to watch him make unforced errors,
and that was that.
Britain’s great white hope, the ebullient Andy Murray, fought his
way brilliantly to the semifinal, overcoming Stanislas Wawrinka
in the round of 16 in an exhausting five-setter, but stumbling
two rounds later. He and Roddick are Federer’s most likely
challengers during the rest of the season, as it appears last
year’s winner, Rafael Nadal, must remain attend to his knees.
Lleyton Hewitt and Wawrinka and Hass remain dark horses.
The Championships at Wimbledon remain, thankfully, a reminder
that good manners matter, on the part of fans no less than
players. In a world like ours, that is no small thing. I
personally dislike the instant video-review rule, wherein a
player can challenge an umpire’s call. The players as often as
not get it wrong and the umpires and linesmen are pretty well
trained to watch where the balls bounce. The point is that you
are supposed to accept the rules and the arbiters of the rules. A
delirious umpire would not be allowed to officiate very long.
What happens with player challenges is that you introduce a kind
of litigiousness on the court. Clean, white-outfitted spectators
dressed (for the most part) in at least casual-formal clothes
that even George Will would find acceptable, with players
accepting the breaks of the close calls and carrying on,
Wimbledon was the quintessence of good sportsmanship. I do not
think the instant review gizmo subverts this, any more than does
the stupid and stupidly expensive roof they finally installed
after talking about it for years. (Murray and Wawrinka played
under it, to the latest hour, about 10 p.m., in Wimbledon
history.) You can worry about these things, I suppose.
