You can never complain about tennis in Australia — they play it
with gusto and enjoyment that just cannot be replicated in the
classic tournaments in France and England or the “tennis world
series” atmosphere that envelops the U.S. Open. Even from afar and
on the Tennis Channel — you cannot object to television even as it
reminds you how inferior it is to watching sports live, but tell
that to Mr. Tyrrell — the Australian Open is the best way to kick
off the new season. Officially it began with some warm up
tournaments in the first days of January during which, in
particular, Agnieszka Radwanska displayed qualities that promise to
make this her great break-out year.
She is a slight lady, seems shorter than her listed
5'8" but boy can she run. And she has the softest hands, as
they say in tennis, which means control over shallow shots, putting
them gently away where the other girl — excuse me, the other lady —
cannot reach them. She hits well from the baseline, too, and most
of all she is fast, she goes after everything, she has the classic
all-court-hit-it-back game that makes high spirited tennis.
She has to beat Na Li tonight, an erratic player who at this
tournament has thus far been steady. But Aga beat Nana a few weeks
ago in one of the preliminary tournaments Down Under at Sydney, and
my money would be on the Girl from Krakow over the Wuhan Wonder
Woman, notwithstanding the latter’s extra 10 pounds.
And my money would be gone, down and under. After trading point
for point for ten games, Miss Li went into a power game even as
Miss Radwanska fell back on the most defensive kind of defense. Her
famously steady, deep cross court backhand held steady, but she
could do nothing against the former French Open champion’s running
volleys and stunning down the line shots that repeatedly caught her
on the wrong side of the court.
Meanwhile the fantastic Serena Williams will be giving a lesson
to America’s Great Girl Hope, the teenage sensation from Florida,
Sloane Stephens, though you never know, there could be an upset.
Miss Williams’s elegant and legendary sister, Venus, was crushed by
another Florida girl, albeit of Russian immigration, Maria
Sharapova, who is looking as unbeatable as Serena, and if Miss
Radwanska is not in the final, I would bet on these two. The
defending champ, the White Russian (aka Belarusian) Viktoria
Azarenka, has been playing sensational tennis but not with quite
the dominating fanaticism of the Russian and American stars, nor
the graceful skill of the Polish one.
But ya never know. Tennis like football that way, and I really
feel awful for my friend — a real gentleman — Jim Antle, but ya win
some and ya lose some, and I am afraid the Baltimore boys are going
to the final instead of Jim’s beloved Pats. But now that is done,
and we must support the Eastern team against the West’s champion,
despite — or because — of the fact Don Budge was a Californian.
Jim Antle is a man of faith, and he will recover. I expect so
will Brian Baker, but that, I must say, was the real heartbreaker
at Melbourne, the bravest and most classy American now playing went
out in the second round with a hurt leg, the diagnosis of which has
not yet been released. We must hope he will recover in time, if not
for Indian Wells and the American winter season, at least for the
clay season in Spain, Italy, and France, where he did so well and
won so many fans last season, after coming back from years of
injury and disease without a single complaint and without missing a
beat. That is what we want in Americans, the no-complaints strong
silent type, and if only we can endure four years of — but halt, no
politics.
But of course, the Oz Open is where promises are the stuff of
daily drama. It is always someone’s break-out year at Melbourne
Park, until he — or she — is the victim of someone else’s. Jerzy
Janowicz — another Pole! — had a fantastic second round match,
wherein he played for five hours or some other amazing feat of
duration against a wiry, tough, skillful little fellow from the
subcontinent, and it looked as if he would have the best of him,
but the big man from Lodz (twice the size of Agnieszka) came
through, notwithstanding being two sets down and having one of the
all-time temper tantrums in the history of lousy manners, though to
be fair it was due to a very questionable line call (they were
playing on a court without the phototracker gizmo). Exhausted, he
fell two days later to Nicolas Almagro — one of those, like his
compatriot David Ferrer, who might pull a surprise against the
Three Masters (the fourth, Rafa Nadal, is on the DL and is not
expected to return until the clay season) — and that was the end
of Jerzy in Australia, but I look forward to his arrival at Indian
Wells in a few weeks.
Yes, the year and the season are just beginning, everyone is
refreshed and rested and full of hopes and eager to show what they
can do. You catch yourself wishing our presidential inauguration
could inspire the same feelings — but I know I should not say this.
Politics and sports do not mix, and who am I to say Barack Obama
will not do in his second term what we all expected in his first,
restore American greatness, get the economy booming, reduce our
national debt and our federal deficit, confound our enemies, rescue
our brothers in Mali alongside our gallant French allies.
Speaking of whom, the French went fairly deep at Melbourne Park,
and Gael Monfils and Gilles Simon — he who was mean to our rising
star Sloane Stephens many years ago when she was a wee girl and he
an advanced junior — played a magnificent endurance match that took
so much out of Simon that in his next match, against the mighty
Andy Murray, he scarcely could lift his racquet and followed his
compatriot Monfils to the showers. On the other hand, in another
all-Frencher, Jo-W. Tsonga crushed his friend Richard Gasquet and
thus insured the Tricolor would be carried at least to the
quarters, which begin even as we go to press. Tsonga is one of the
most improved players not to have won a major, and hope is born
again anew, in Australia.
Not that I would bet on him, with all due respect for his
talent. After watching Novak Djokovic out-endure the mighty Other
Swiss, Stan Wawrinka, in five excruciating sets, and the First
Swiss handle the rising generation, in the form of Australian White
Hope Bernard Tomic and Canadian White Hope Milos Raonic (what is it
about these sons of Balkan immigrants to ancient English
dominions?), with an ease that was almost embarrassing, it does not
look like the old guard is ready to retire yet. It will be crunch
time this week, with the usual suspects, as good as ever, and all
pumped up.
