The extraordinary hullabaloo surrounding the sanctions handed down to Lance Armstrong, a man who never once in his career failed a drugs test, brings to mind the question of doping on tennis. Yannick Noah and James Blake appear to be the only people in the game willing to concede what is painfully obvious to anyone following what passes as anti-doping controls in tennis: that we're all being duped.
One can criticize the manner in which Noah has focused his energies and commentary on Spanish tennis players, which can only be characterized as groundless and absent of any intelligence or evidence. Or we can look to Blake's more blanket and simultaneously tempered approach, which casts doubt on the entire field. But both men essentially allude to the absurdity of the existing doping controls in tennis, and how brilliantly inept it has proven itself to be in doing anything coming close to controlling doping in the game.
First and foremost, tests for doping need to catch those players not only who may have some controlled/banned substances in their system, but more importantly those players who have done so with the intent to gain a competitive advantage. A brief look at the history of players caught up in the ridiculous web of drugs testing in tennis reveals that a very blunt instrument is being wielded, and the players that have suffered the consequences thereof, are clearly not the philosophical target of the controls - if the controls were sincere, that is.
That being the case - what is the point of doping controls? We'll get back to that later, but here is a list and brief analysis of those players caught up in this wicked farce.
Kristina Antoniychuk
Alex Bogomolov, Jr.
Juan Ignacio Chela
Guillermo Cañas
Guillermo Coria
Antony Dupuis
Mariano Hood
The common link among this list of players is that they tested positive for banned substances that the ITF ultimately concluded was the result of medicine prescribed by a doctor for a verified condition, and as such, none of these players could be adjudged to have sought a performance enhancement.
Antoniychuk tested positive for furosemide (banned as a masking agent PEDs). It was prescribed by doctors for a condition that was undisclosed, but a brief look at the conditions for which it is typically prescribed does not reveal an obvious treatment for an athlete. Normally that should raise some eyebrows, but incredibly while the ITF accepted her explanation, they still banned her for fourteen (14) months!
Why? After all, if was a legitimate use, and not for performance enhancement, did it make sense to punish a player so severely for not knowing the contents of a prescribed medicine? Wouldn't a probationary period make more sense for this kind of offense?
Bogomolov and Dupuis tested positive for salbutamol, which they admitted, and the ITF accepted, were ingested through inhalers to treat asthma. Incredibly, if either had filed for, and received, a Therapeutic Use Exemption (TUE), they wouldn't have been banned or forced to return their earnings. So, here we have two cases of merely a negligence to do some paperwork resulting in a ban and loss of earnings for two players who everyone agrees in no way attempted to gain a performance enhancement and could have legally taken the substance anyway!
Is this the objective of the anti-doping? To punish athletes for failing to file? Doesn't this sort of thing merit a warning?
Canas tested positive for hydrochlorothiazide (another banned masking agent) which was present in a substance provided to him by tournament officials (not prescribed medicine by a doctor) to treat cold symptoms - in other words, the tournament was responsible for putting the substance in the player, and then the ITF and the ATP Tour banned him for taking it. There was no trace of any PED in Canas' sample, and his samples were clean of the masking agent when he was tested at Roland Garros three months later. But in their brilliance, after a year of wrangling, the ITF reduced his ban from two years to 15 months. All this does nothing to eliminate the absurdity of banning a player for taking substances provided by the tournament (and thus by association the very authorities that sought to ban him).
Coria, a player nobody would suspect of taking PEDs, tested positive for nandrolone, but his ban was reduced from 2 years to 7 months, after his family independently tested the multivitamin which he showed a doctor had given him (not prescribed, however), that contained the steroid. Nandrolone was a high profile substance for which many athletes at the time, in many sports, tested positive - and sympathy was in short supply for those who did. But Coria sued the manufacturer of the multivitamin he took and won an out of court settlement, ostensibly because even if he HAD done his due diligence to check the ingredients of the multivitamin, he wouldn't have known it contained nandrolone. So why hold him responsible for not taking measures that, even if he had taken them, he wouldn't have known about the presence of a banned substance anyway?
But by far, the most absurd case was that of Mariano Hood, who was banned after testing positive for finasteride, which was prescribed in the treatment of male pattern baldness - so here a guy who is desperately trying to cover the fact that he is balding, is outed by a process that is supposedly looking for PEDs. The interesting thing is that he had been taking the drug for years, but never tested positive for it...because the drug was only added to the banned list the year he tested positive for it! Now one can argue that it's his responsibility to know what's on the list, but if he were truly seeking a performance enhancement, would he provide evidence that he had been taking it for years - essentially admitting to doping for years? That's not exactly the defense of someone who is hoping to conceal the taking of a performance enhancing drug! Obviously, Mariano Hood is not the philosophical target of anti-doping controls...or is he?
All this is a kind of madness that only sporting bureaucrats could possibly comprehend. How could players possibly know more than doctors, often doctors designated by the tour by the way, about the possibility of banned substances in medicine they've ingested? This is clearly another case of the ITF wanting to look tough at the wrong time, at the expense of a player that has a low profile, so the reputation of the sport remains in tact. Is it really fair for the reputation (and livelihood) of these journeymen to sacrificed at the altar of this charade?
In all likelihood, the ITF wants to have their cake and eat it too, in that they either 1) don't buy these players' explanations, but don't want to admit that doping is rampant in tennis or 2) they do buy these players' explanations, but want to look tough on doping by banning an unknown players that won't cost the game any money or prestige. And since the doping control authorities and the tour accepted that there was no attempt to enhance performance, isn't the whole affair an enormous waste of time? Because it is artificial performance enhancements that we are trying to identify. Speaking of which, the next list hardly fall in that category, even for the substances found in their tests.
Andre Agassi (methamphetamine)
Lourdes Domínguez Lino (cocaine)
Richard Gasquet (cocaine)
Martina Hingis (cocaine)
Now, I'm not in favor of players taking cocaine or crystal meth, etc., but at the end of the day, what they do in on their own, is none of my business and most importantly, in the case of these particular drugs, doesn't enhance performance, which is supposed to be the point of drugs testing. To prevent players getting "artificial" performance enhancements, and not to legislate personal/private behavior.
Robert Kendrick
The case of Robert Kendrick is a strange one - he was banned after testing positive for methylhexaneamine, a substance banned as a stimulant, readily accessible in many over the counter products, but is considered no more potent than a strong cup of tea. It is often used as a nasal decongestant because of its properties of increasing blood pressure and blood flow, but Kendrick admitted using it to combat jet lag - in other words, he admitted using it as a stimulant, which is precisely why it is banned!
Now we can argue whether it really ought to be on the banned list, or if it's just there for show, but it is on the list, and even though he admitted using it for the exact reason for which it was banned, and derived a performance enhancement from it (as opposed to other players also suffering from jet lag that didn't use it or other banned stimulants), the ITF decision included a reference to him being able to use the medicine in which the substance was delivered, under a Therapeutic Use Exemption (TUE). But why would that have been the case if he was using it as a stimulant, and not as a nasal decongestant? It's almost as if they're giving him, and any other player for that matter, a blue-print for how to game the system.
And then there are the cases of Yannina Wickmayer and Xavier Malisse (who both happen to be Belgian) who were banned, not for testing positive, but for failing to report their whereabouts 3 times in a calendar year - presumably giving them the opportunity to avoid drugs testing on those three days. But could those three days where they went dark honestly give them an opportunity to avoid positive tests if they had, in fact, doped? I understand this rule is intended to prevent players avoiding testing, but couldn't they simply test them on the next day and see if any drugs were in their system? Then their intent to skirt the test would be more likely or more clear?
At the end of the day, the one glaring example missing from this charade that the ITF expects us to accept, is the case of Wayne Odesnik. Here is a guy who was caught with enough human growth hormone on his person to turn a mouse into a bull, and what was his penalty? A self imposed hiatus from the game and "cooperation" with the authorities that presumably would assist them in catching others doing the same thing as Odesnik.
To date, no such information has resulted in any such identification. And he's back on tour again, by the way.
So although Noah and Blake don't have any positive specifics of players they know are doping and weren't caught, the evidence of the players who have been "caught" is so weak as to suggest that the one thing the anti-doping program doesn't do is catch dopers.
So isn't this all much ado about nothing? And isn't that Noah and Blake's point?
Tennis Column
The Tennis Column is a column written about professional tennis.
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Michael Porter's Tennis
Michael Porter is an economist whose theories altered the way the competitive environment in business is analyzed. One of his theories is that, at its core, every business must identify one of only two generic strategies to compete in their industry, and align all of their skills and operations with that generic strategy. Those two generic strategies are either to compete on cost leadership or differentiation, and while the entire skill set of a business pursuing one strategy may (out of necessity) overlap with those of a business pursuing the other strategy, at its core the business must choose.
I've often wondered if this can be applied to any form of competition, including sports, and what then would be the application of these theories to a particular sport like tennis. Within this framework, I think there are two generic strategies in tennis, and they stem essentially from the two basic ways to win a point: you either (1) apply pressure or (2) absorb pressure. The player who applies pressure is more apt to win points through winners and forced errors, while the player who absorbs pressure is more likely to win points through unforced errors of their opponents.
However, it should not be interpreted that a player who gears his game around one generic strategy or the other cannot develop the skills and employ the tactics of the other - indeed it could be argued that the player who best mixes the two skill sets will be most successful. It should not either be assumed that one strategy is superior to another - just as in business where the ultimate objective is total profits, which can be pursued either through a cost leadership strategy (like Walmart) or a differentiation strategy (like Apple), the same could be argued in tennis. There are examples of great players who have employed either strategy, even through the use of a different set of tactics (and associated skills). But at their core, the best players in the the game have had the most success when their games are aligned with the generic strategy they choose to pursue.
The most obvious example of this is the serve and volleyer, who applies enormous pressure on his opponent by serving effectively to set up his volleys which he would hit for winners or to elicit a weak response that is then put away. There is a laundry list of great serve and volleyers who would fall into this category, but an interesting analysis shows that while the strategic objective is the same, there are a number of ways to achieve it.
Boris Becker and Pete Sampras were serve and volleyers who employed huge sums of power both on the serve and on their ground strokes to essentially beat their opponents into submission. Their games were similar, but whereas Becker's tactics (which was more of a mix of serve and volley and play from the baseline) resulted in 6 majors, Ion Tiriac argued with him for years that he lacked the requisite associated skills to maximize his potential success through anything other than exclusive serve and volley - a tactic that Becker often eschewed in his career to a fault. Becker lost a US Open semi-final to Miroslav Mecir dueling from the baseline with a player who's strategic objective was the diametric opposite of Becker's, and after beating Agassi in their 1989 Davis Cup encounter in Germany, went another 6 years and 8 matches before beating him at Wimbledon in 1995 - all the while trying to beat Agassi at his own game.
Sampras on the other hand, was far more adept in the areas of defense to stay with Agassi as needed, until the opportunity presented itself to go on the attack. By all accounts his movement, footwork, and ground strokes themselves were superior to Becker's, and thus against Agassi and others, who sought to play from the baseline, found it difficult to do either against him. Interestingly enough, players with a similar generic strategic objective had the most success against Sampras, expressly because they were able to put him under pressure, by virtue of their own (huge) serve and volley game, and essentially neutralize his adept ability to meld the skills required to both defend and attack. Stefan Edberg for his career was 6-8 against Sampras, but it is interesting to note that he won 5 of their first 7 meetings and the decline of his career coincided with the ascendance of Sampras'. Once Sampras' game was able to effectively absorb or counteract the pressure from Edberg, he proceeded to win 6 of the next 7 matches.
Michael Stich held a 4-3 advantage over Sampras, and Richard Krajicek was 6-4 over the course of his career. These two statistical anomalies of players with 1 major to their name (not coincidentally Wimbledon titles in 1991 and 1996 respectively) were the result of each player being able to impose their generic strategies over Sampras, and neutralize Sampras' ability to effectively meld the skill sets of both applying and absorbing pressure. In fact, one could argue that while Krajicek and Stich were not nearly the player that Becker was, Becker's record against Sampras was much worse precisely because he failed to stick to a single generic strategy against him, the way his less impressive contemporaries probably felt they had to in order to have any chance to beat him.
It is interesting to note that while Agassi played primarily from the baseline, he was in fact a player who pursued the strategic objective of applying pressure. Like Jimmy Connors and Jim Courier, Agassi applied his pressure primarily from the baseline - but when faced with a player who had sufficient defensive skills to neutralize his advantage in this area - someone like Sampras - he often found it difficult to impose his strategy. As a matter of fact, one could argue that while earlier in his career Agassi was prone to try to hit winners from the baseline, as he became stronger, fitter and more technical, he realized that the equilibrium between attack and defense, particularly from the baseline, meant that he was better off forcing errors than hitting outright winners. But either way, his game was about applying pressure, not absorbing it.
Jimmy Connors is another example of an aggressive baseliner who obviously had the necessary movement and footwork to get in position to ply his trade from his preferred position, but one shouldn't confuse Connors with a player like Bjorn Borg, Rafael Nadal, or Rene Lacoste, who were masters of absorbing pressure. Connors was adept at coming to net and finishing points off, as part of his strategy to apply pressure to his opponents, and had his most successful seasons (eight years apart in 1974 and 1982) when the mix of those to tactical hemisphere was at its peak. Connors may have made his living at the baseline, but he was never so effective at winning majors as he was when he transitioned from bludgeoning attacking opponents with his ground strokes and passing shots, to picking apart those players who made their living absorbing pressure (like the early incarnations of Ivan Lendl).
Over the course of his career, Connors had the most problems with players who effectively absorbed pressure and elicited errors from him. The most telling examples of this comes from Bjorn Borg and Ivan Lendl, both of whom enjoyed lopsided career head to heads against Connors, but initially found it difficult to cope with his aggressive baseline game.
The modern game is more homogeneous in terms of the skill set of players, but generic strategies are essentially split 50/50. Federer and Djokovic are clear examples of two players who apply pressure to their opponents, but do it in very different ways. The important thing to note is that while both players apply pressure, what separates them from other players who employ a similar generic strategy is their ability to defend just enough to get in position to apply pressure. Furthermore, that tipping point differs from player to player within generic strategies, as well as across generic strategies. Federer, if he has to go beyond 15 strokes in a rally, he is unlikely to win the point, whereas with Djokovic, that number is much higher.
Nadal and Murray would fall in the category of players who generically absorb pressure, but that should not be misinterpreted as saying they're pushers - to the contrary. A pusher could never get the results they have. Nadal's ability to transition from defense to attack is superior to Murray's in that when he makes his transition he has more power and spin at his disposal to finish the point. But they essentially play the game very similarly, and both are happy to stretch points well beyond the 20 stroke level to wait for that opportunity. In fact one could argue that the longer the point goes, the more likely they are to win it.
This brings us to why Djokovic is currently so effective. Because modern courts are slower, and the balls take more spin and the games of his opponents more generic than in previous periods in history, Djokovic's superior fire power to both Nadal and Murray put him in a position to finish points in a way that they cannot - however, his level of defense is on par with them and thus he really has both of his bases covered. In fact, his defense is so good, and his points so often so long, that one might be tempted to put him in the category of one who absorbs pressure. But watching him play Federer will dispel this notion.
Fedjoker matches are characterized by both players trying desperately to take control of the point as soon as possible in order to finish it as soon as possible, and it is only the quality of each's defense that stretches the points out. But generally speaking, it is rare for rallies in their matches to go beyond 20 strokes. And the Djokovic's footwork, court positioning and stroke production are now so well synchronized that he rarely requires that much effort to beat anyone else.
I think Michael Porter must be a tennis player.
I've often wondered if this can be applied to any form of competition, including sports, and what then would be the application of these theories to a particular sport like tennis. Within this framework, I think there are two generic strategies in tennis, and they stem essentially from the two basic ways to win a point: you either (1) apply pressure or (2) absorb pressure. The player who applies pressure is more apt to win points through winners and forced errors, while the player who absorbs pressure is more likely to win points through unforced errors of their opponents.
However, it should not be interpreted that a player who gears his game around one generic strategy or the other cannot develop the skills and employ the tactics of the other - indeed it could be argued that the player who best mixes the two skill sets will be most successful. It should not either be assumed that one strategy is superior to another - just as in business where the ultimate objective is total profits, which can be pursued either through a cost leadership strategy (like Walmart) or a differentiation strategy (like Apple), the same could be argued in tennis. There are examples of great players who have employed either strategy, even through the use of a different set of tactics (and associated skills). But at their core, the best players in the the game have had the most success when their games are aligned with the generic strategy they choose to pursue.
The most obvious example of this is the serve and volleyer, who applies enormous pressure on his opponent by serving effectively to set up his volleys which he would hit for winners or to elicit a weak response that is then put away. There is a laundry list of great serve and volleyers who would fall into this category, but an interesting analysis shows that while the strategic objective is the same, there are a number of ways to achieve it.
Boris Becker and Pete Sampras were serve and volleyers who employed huge sums of power both on the serve and on their ground strokes to essentially beat their opponents into submission. Their games were similar, but whereas Becker's tactics (which was more of a mix of serve and volley and play from the baseline) resulted in 6 majors, Ion Tiriac argued with him for years that he lacked the requisite associated skills to maximize his potential success through anything other than exclusive serve and volley - a tactic that Becker often eschewed in his career to a fault. Becker lost a US Open semi-final to Miroslav Mecir dueling from the baseline with a player who's strategic objective was the diametric opposite of Becker's, and after beating Agassi in their 1989 Davis Cup encounter in Germany, went another 6 years and 8 matches before beating him at Wimbledon in 1995 - all the while trying to beat Agassi at his own game.
Sampras on the other hand, was far more adept in the areas of defense to stay with Agassi as needed, until the opportunity presented itself to go on the attack. By all accounts his movement, footwork, and ground strokes themselves were superior to Becker's, and thus against Agassi and others, who sought to play from the baseline, found it difficult to do either against him. Interestingly enough, players with a similar generic strategic objective had the most success against Sampras, expressly because they were able to put him under pressure, by virtue of their own (huge) serve and volley game, and essentially neutralize his adept ability to meld the skills required to both defend and attack. Stefan Edberg for his career was 6-8 against Sampras, but it is interesting to note that he won 5 of their first 7 meetings and the decline of his career coincided with the ascendance of Sampras'. Once Sampras' game was able to effectively absorb or counteract the pressure from Edberg, he proceeded to win 6 of the next 7 matches.
Michael Stich held a 4-3 advantage over Sampras, and Richard Krajicek was 6-4 over the course of his career. These two statistical anomalies of players with 1 major to their name (not coincidentally Wimbledon titles in 1991 and 1996 respectively) were the result of each player being able to impose their generic strategies over Sampras, and neutralize Sampras' ability to effectively meld the skill sets of both applying and absorbing pressure. In fact, one could argue that while Krajicek and Stich were not nearly the player that Becker was, Becker's record against Sampras was much worse precisely because he failed to stick to a single generic strategy against him, the way his less impressive contemporaries probably felt they had to in order to have any chance to beat him.
It is interesting to note that while Agassi played primarily from the baseline, he was in fact a player who pursued the strategic objective of applying pressure. Like Jimmy Connors and Jim Courier, Agassi applied his pressure primarily from the baseline - but when faced with a player who had sufficient defensive skills to neutralize his advantage in this area - someone like Sampras - he often found it difficult to impose his strategy. As a matter of fact, one could argue that while earlier in his career Agassi was prone to try to hit winners from the baseline, as he became stronger, fitter and more technical, he realized that the equilibrium between attack and defense, particularly from the baseline, meant that he was better off forcing errors than hitting outright winners. But either way, his game was about applying pressure, not absorbing it.
Jimmy Connors is another example of an aggressive baseliner who obviously had the necessary movement and footwork to get in position to ply his trade from his preferred position, but one shouldn't confuse Connors with a player like Bjorn Borg, Rafael Nadal, or Rene Lacoste, who were masters of absorbing pressure. Connors was adept at coming to net and finishing points off, as part of his strategy to apply pressure to his opponents, and had his most successful seasons (eight years apart in 1974 and 1982) when the mix of those to tactical hemisphere was at its peak. Connors may have made his living at the baseline, but he was never so effective at winning majors as he was when he transitioned from bludgeoning attacking opponents with his ground strokes and passing shots, to picking apart those players who made their living absorbing pressure (like the early incarnations of Ivan Lendl).
Over the course of his career, Connors had the most problems with players who effectively absorbed pressure and elicited errors from him. The most telling examples of this comes from Bjorn Borg and Ivan Lendl, both of whom enjoyed lopsided career head to heads against Connors, but initially found it difficult to cope with his aggressive baseline game.
The modern game is more homogeneous in terms of the skill set of players, but generic strategies are essentially split 50/50. Federer and Djokovic are clear examples of two players who apply pressure to their opponents, but do it in very different ways. The important thing to note is that while both players apply pressure, what separates them from other players who employ a similar generic strategy is their ability to defend just enough to get in position to apply pressure. Furthermore, that tipping point differs from player to player within generic strategies, as well as across generic strategies. Federer, if he has to go beyond 15 strokes in a rally, he is unlikely to win the point, whereas with Djokovic, that number is much higher.
Nadal and Murray would fall in the category of players who generically absorb pressure, but that should not be misinterpreted as saying they're pushers - to the contrary. A pusher could never get the results they have. Nadal's ability to transition from defense to attack is superior to Murray's in that when he makes his transition he has more power and spin at his disposal to finish the point. But they essentially play the game very similarly, and both are happy to stretch points well beyond the 20 stroke level to wait for that opportunity. In fact one could argue that the longer the point goes, the more likely they are to win it.
This brings us to why Djokovic is currently so effective. Because modern courts are slower, and the balls take more spin and the games of his opponents more generic than in previous periods in history, Djokovic's superior fire power to both Nadal and Murray put him in a position to finish points in a way that they cannot - however, his level of defense is on par with them and thus he really has both of his bases covered. In fact, his defense is so good, and his points so often so long, that one might be tempted to put him in the category of one who absorbs pressure. But watching him play Federer will dispel this notion.
Fedjoker matches are characterized by both players trying desperately to take control of the point as soon as possible in order to finish it as soon as possible, and it is only the quality of each's defense that stretches the points out. But generally speaking, it is rare for rallies in their matches to go beyond 20 strokes. And the Djokovic's footwork, court positioning and stroke production are now so well synchronized that he rarely requires that much effort to beat anyone else.
I think Michael Porter must be a tennis player.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Sugar Ray Roger
Boxing, like tennis, is a physical confrontation of two individuals who can possess diametrically opposed skills sets. When the contrast is stark, fascinating match ups and results often ensue. The one thing that differentiates boxing from tennis is that in order to become the best boxer in the world, you have to beat whoever is considered to already be the best in the world. In tennis, the head to head match ups are merely a means to an end of winning the tournaments, and it is by the latter measure that we rate a player's overall quality, but both sports are inherently head-to-head competitions. Therefore consistent head-to-head supremacy, or at least parity, over most of one's contemporaries, is as key to a tennis player's place in history.
Sugar Ray Leonard was a boxer who, at his peak, possessed many of the same technical qualities that Roger Federer possesses as a tennis player. The combination of being both broadly and (apparently) deeply skilled in so many areas of the game, coupled with an ability to identify an opponents weaknesses and adjust one's tactics and technique to exploit it, are two of the things that made Sugar Ray a great boxer, and the exact same thing can be said of Roger Federer. That the two share these characteristics is interesting, but what is more interesting is that if they do not to employ either breadth of their skill set, either by choice or by force, both are susceptible to another technical and tactical approach that is similar across both sports - that of the bashing bruiser.
Roberto Duran was a boxer from Panama of great pride and determination, to which his success in the ring was as often attributed as anything else. But the one element of Duran's pedigree as a boxer that didn't go unnoticed in that world, that of persistently overwhelming his opponents into submission, is rarely seen as a particular skill or quality in tennis. But it is equally effective, and also happens to be the perfect foil, for either a boxer or a tennis player who appears to have the more aesthetically appealing repertoire Not unlike the way Tomas Berdych and Juan Martin del Potro, whose best quality is the ability to bludgeon the their opponents until they eventually either elicit an error or hit an outright knockout punch. Duran's skill set may not have been as broad or possibly even as deep as Sugar Ray's, but because Leonard tried to beat Duran at his own game, a game of which Duran was a master and Leonard was only an apprentice, Duran appeared to fight the perfect fight and he soundly beat Leonard in their first encounter. The same could be said of Federer's most recent losses to his gargantuan and hammer wielding nemeses.
Federer and Leonard share a certain quality their best modus operandus - they both appear to have limitless breadth and depth of skill. But the reality revealed by his bomb dropping rivals is that Federer's skills, although broad, are not equally deep in all areas. As a matter of fact, while his breadth of skill allows him to more readily conceal those areas where his skills are shallow, if for some reason he can be forced to dig deep in those areas of weakness, those shortcomings bubble to the surface, and as a result, Federer can be made to look surprisingly ordinary. The real question is what is the common trait between those players who have had some recent relative success over Federer, and are those traits innate or by tactical design.
Losing to Andy Murray in Shanghai is nothing new to Federer - not only does he have a losing historical head to head, all three times they've played at that venue he has lost - so the result should come as no surprise. What does tickle the intellectual curiosity is the case of Tomas Berdych at the US Open and Juan Martin del Potro in Basel. Berdych and Federer have split their last six meetings, and while del Potro has only one the last of their latest 7, all of their encounters since the French Open have gone the distance and he actually won the latest. And of course, upon further review, it seems there are some similarities between the two players that give insight into the inherent weaknesses in Federer's game - yes, he does have weaknesses.
When Federer plays either of these two, and has the audacity to attempt to beat them at their own game, which is to say to out hit them from the baseline, the results are clearly much worse than when he technically and tactically circumvents the strengths of these two players with variety, changes of pace, direction, height, spin and angle. Pound for pound, Federer actually cannot hit these two off the court, and in all likelihood, that's the case for most of the heaviest hitters on tour. His best bet is to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee, vary the direction, depth, angle, spin and location of his deliveries. But, if Federer either chooses, or is forced, to stand toe to toe with either of these behemoths, he may get away with hit from time to time, but over the long run, his chances of winning the match plummet. He may score a few good rounds, but at the end of the day, he's going down and going down hard.
Now I don't want to delve too deeply into the psychological, because I've never met him, and can only speculate, but one has to assume that not only does Federer believe that, in terms of his skill set, he is a far superior player to the vast majority of players he faces on tour, and this would be doubly so with two players whose main strengths are their ability to consistently hit hard flat shots in the same direction until an error or an opening is elicited. Both big players who move well for big men, but with limited movement in the abstract, limited further by a two-handed backhands, and a tendency to position themselves closer to their own backhand corners than not, they lack not only the aesthetic qualities of Federer's game, but even the technical capacity to hit a wide variety of shots, from a wide variety of positions.
That's where one has to wonder if it also irritates the hell out of Federer that he has so much trouble beating them even if he does go toe-to-toe with them, as in, "I have more ability in my finger than they have in their arm, so why am I the one who has to adjust his game?" Or, "I'm good enough that I should be able to beat this guy at his own game, let alone my game." And here, competitive pride, or perhaps to some degree, hubris, conspires with the natural condition of the match up, to create the perfect storm of an inexplicable inability to do to them, what he normally does to so many others.
When Leonard fought Duran for the second time, he fought an entirely different fight - no more mucking with machismo and other attempts to prove how big his balls were - he feinted one way and jabbed, feinted another way, and jabbed, and dug in for combinations just long enough to score points, but more importantly not long enough for Duran to do the same. The display was so meticulous and so disciplined, combined with Duran's irritation, and the realization that he was going to lose, the effect was to pave the way for an early dismissal. In boxing, it's rare that a fighter quits in the middle of a fight - not so in tennis. They may go through the motions, but often a player is beaten long before match point, and this is most often the case when Federer displays the full breadth of his skills and his opponent, who may have a winning game and/or strategy, realizes that Federer has one too many ways to keep him from executing it.
Because Berdych and del Potro are both at the (idiotically named) ATP World Tour Finals this week, with del Potro in Federer's group, and (Berdych still with a chance at qualifying for the semi-finals if he can get a result of Tsonga...possible and Djokovic...unlikely), it would be interesting to see if Federer decides he's going to try to beat them at their own game and loses to them...again.
Because I think he'd love to win this title, I think he'll go with the altogether more fitting and successful approach of being Sugar Ray Roger.
Sugar Ray Leonard was a boxer who, at his peak, possessed many of the same technical qualities that Roger Federer possesses as a tennis player. The combination of being both broadly and (apparently) deeply skilled in so many areas of the game, coupled with an ability to identify an opponents weaknesses and adjust one's tactics and technique to exploit it, are two of the things that made Sugar Ray a great boxer, and the exact same thing can be said of Roger Federer. That the two share these characteristics is interesting, but what is more interesting is that if they do not to employ either breadth of their skill set, either by choice or by force, both are susceptible to another technical and tactical approach that is similar across both sports - that of the bashing bruiser.
Roberto Duran was a boxer from Panama of great pride and determination, to which his success in the ring was as often attributed as anything else. But the one element of Duran's pedigree as a boxer that didn't go unnoticed in that world, that of persistently overwhelming his opponents into submission, is rarely seen as a particular skill or quality in tennis. But it is equally effective, and also happens to be the perfect foil, for either a boxer or a tennis player who appears to have the more aesthetically appealing repertoire Not unlike the way Tomas Berdych and Juan Martin del Potro, whose best quality is the ability to bludgeon the their opponents until they eventually either elicit an error or hit an outright knockout punch. Duran's skill set may not have been as broad or possibly even as deep as Sugar Ray's, but because Leonard tried to beat Duran at his own game, a game of which Duran was a master and Leonard was only an apprentice, Duran appeared to fight the perfect fight and he soundly beat Leonard in their first encounter. The same could be said of Federer's most recent losses to his gargantuan and hammer wielding nemeses.
Federer and Leonard share a certain quality their best modus operandus - they both appear to have limitless breadth and depth of skill. But the reality revealed by his bomb dropping rivals is that Federer's skills, although broad, are not equally deep in all areas. As a matter of fact, while his breadth of skill allows him to more readily conceal those areas where his skills are shallow, if for some reason he can be forced to dig deep in those areas of weakness, those shortcomings bubble to the surface, and as a result, Federer can be made to look surprisingly ordinary. The real question is what is the common trait between those players who have had some recent relative success over Federer, and are those traits innate or by tactical design.
Losing to Andy Murray in Shanghai is nothing new to Federer - not only does he have a losing historical head to head, all three times they've played at that venue he has lost - so the result should come as no surprise. What does tickle the intellectual curiosity is the case of Tomas Berdych at the US Open and Juan Martin del Potro in Basel. Berdych and Federer have split their last six meetings, and while del Potro has only one the last of their latest 7, all of their encounters since the French Open have gone the distance and he actually won the latest. And of course, upon further review, it seems there are some similarities between the two players that give insight into the inherent weaknesses in Federer's game - yes, he does have weaknesses.
When Federer plays either of these two, and has the audacity to attempt to beat them at their own game, which is to say to out hit them from the baseline, the results are clearly much worse than when he technically and tactically circumvents the strengths of these two players with variety, changes of pace, direction, height, spin and angle. Pound for pound, Federer actually cannot hit these two off the court, and in all likelihood, that's the case for most of the heaviest hitters on tour. His best bet is to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee, vary the direction, depth, angle, spin and location of his deliveries. But, if Federer either chooses, or is forced, to stand toe to toe with either of these behemoths, he may get away with hit from time to time, but over the long run, his chances of winning the match plummet. He may score a few good rounds, but at the end of the day, he's going down and going down hard.
Now I don't want to delve too deeply into the psychological, because I've never met him, and can only speculate, but one has to assume that not only does Federer believe that, in terms of his skill set, he is a far superior player to the vast majority of players he faces on tour, and this would be doubly so with two players whose main strengths are their ability to consistently hit hard flat shots in the same direction until an error or an opening is elicited. Both big players who move well for big men, but with limited movement in the abstract, limited further by a two-handed backhands, and a tendency to position themselves closer to their own backhand corners than not, they lack not only the aesthetic qualities of Federer's game, but even the technical capacity to hit a wide variety of shots, from a wide variety of positions.
That's where one has to wonder if it also irritates the hell out of Federer that he has so much trouble beating them even if he does go toe-to-toe with them, as in, "I have more ability in my finger than they have in their arm, so why am I the one who has to adjust his game?" Or, "I'm good enough that I should be able to beat this guy at his own game, let alone my game." And here, competitive pride, or perhaps to some degree, hubris, conspires with the natural condition of the match up, to create the perfect storm of an inexplicable inability to do to them, what he normally does to so many others.
When Leonard fought Duran for the second time, he fought an entirely different fight - no more mucking with machismo and other attempts to prove how big his balls were - he feinted one way and jabbed, feinted another way, and jabbed, and dug in for combinations just long enough to score points, but more importantly not long enough for Duran to do the same. The display was so meticulous and so disciplined, combined with Duran's irritation, and the realization that he was going to lose, the effect was to pave the way for an early dismissal. In boxing, it's rare that a fighter quits in the middle of a fight - not so in tennis. They may go through the motions, but often a player is beaten long before match point, and this is most often the case when Federer displays the full breadth of his skills and his opponent, who may have a winning game and/or strategy, realizes that Federer has one too many ways to keep him from executing it.
Because Berdych and del Potro are both at the (idiotically named) ATP World Tour Finals this week, with del Potro in Federer's group, and (Berdych still with a chance at qualifying for the semi-finals if he can get a result of Tsonga...possible and Djokovic...unlikely), it would be interesting to see if Federer decides he's going to try to beat them at their own game and loses to them...again.
Because I think he'd love to win this title, I think he'll go with the altogether more fitting and successful approach of being Sugar Ray Roger.
Friday, October 19, 2012
The Relationship Between Federer and Djokovic
Having emerged from the triumvirate of the big 3 as the ultimate contenders for the year end #1 ranking (with all due respect to Andy Murray), it now comes time, for those of us with little to write about in the blogosphere, to turn to the age old endeavor of shit-stirring. The topic this time is the presumed frosty relationship between Federer and Djokovic, which over the course of the last 6 years (yes, they've been competing with each other for 6 years!), has gone through its ups and downs, and at the end of this year culminates in a struggle to reach the north pole of the ATP first, and alone.
There is clearly respect between Federer and Nadal, the latter of which has always professed his admiration of the other, with the former only recently appearing to concede a comfort with sharing the greatest esteem in the game. Between Djokovic and Nadal, there rarely appears to be any antipathy - even in the midst of Nadal's desprate 7-match losing streak to his (other) nemesis, there didn't appear to be any hard feelings between the two - unusual for a rivalry which has been so unbalanced in both directions at various times.
Which leads us to what appears to be the frosty Fedjoker relationship - though they both deny it, and few specific qualms have shed light on the true nature of the distance between the two, it always appears to be there...lurking...just waiting for the light of day to reveal itself. Below is a chronology of what, at best, could be considered circumstantial evidence of a rift. Having said that, circumstantial cases are made in the judicial system all the time. So here goes:
2006 Davis Cup - Switzerland
During the relegation tie with Serbia/Montenegro, Djokovic played his first rubber against Stanislav Wawrinka, a grueling 5-set match that saw Djokovic prevail in the end. The match also saw the opening salvo in a stealth war of words between the two ever since, where Federer labelled the young player "a joke" after making multiple calls to the trainer during the match. This year Federer went out of his way to explain that he was simply irritated that his friend (Wawrinka) had been beaten despite the calls to the trainer, and that the rift was addressed a month or so later in Madrid (when it hosted an in indoor Masters 1000 tournament - which Federer won, by the way).
Federer went on to obliterate Djokovic in their second career head to head, in 3 straight sets to clinch the tie for Switzerland.
This was not a new or isolated complaint against Djokovic and his penchant for calling for the trainer, who has since been accused at various times by multiple players (including Tommy Robredo and Andy Roddick) of being something of hypochondriac following and preceding their respective matches with the Djoker at the 2008 US Open. By then, Djokovic had already earned a reputation of being quick to call for help and making miraculous recoveries, and quick to retire from matches. Both players so noted with disdain.
It's also worth noting further that the comment following the match with Wawrinka by Federer, was the first time any player of note made any complaints to that effect, so there could be a question of whether Federer actually initiated this reputation, or at the very least paved the way for it. To be fair, Djokovic did little to contradict it over the next 4 years, but it should also be noted that both Robredo and Roddick are of Federer's generation, and their opinions might be considered today to be somewhat old school by the standard of modern players.
Nevertheless the plot thickened.
Montreal 2007
By the time they met in the final of the Rogers Cup in Montreal, Federer had beaten Djokovic the first 4 times they'd played, and rarely been troubled by his game. Thus, it would have come as a surprise to most that the tennis yokozuna, who had won 2 of the first 3 majors that year, reached all three major finals, had just won his fifth Wimbledon title in a row, and enjoyed a huge lead in the race for #1, lost so close to the US Open to Djokovic.
In the post match press conference, Federer was asked if he saw and respected the similarities between his game and Djokovic's, as compared to the differences between his and Nadal's and his response was:
"No, not really. I mean, he plays like many other players on tour. You know, I mean, he's steady off the baseline, he's got a pretty good serve. But...nothing outrageous in his game. Always pretty predictable, which is a good thing. Yeah, you get some good rallies against him because he scrambles well, moves to the ball well, moves the ball around very nicely. Yeah, I enjoy playing against him."
Although there's nothing directly insulting in that statement, notable is a lack of appreciation for 1) any comparison to his own game, 2) Djokovic having beaten the top 3 players in the same tournament (Roddick, Nadal and Federer), or 3) winning his second Masters 1000 of the year (he had already won Miami). And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost interpret his throw away statement, that he enjoys playing him, because he's predictable and there's nothing outrageous in his game, as a euphemism for the guy being easy pickings for him.
He went on to say, in assessing his game that day that:
"I could never really breathe. Maybe that was a bit my problem today. It's such a pity, you know, when I start a match against a player like him serving so bad in the opening game."
Now, if I were Djokovic, I wouldn't take too kindly to being referred to as, "a player like him" - if it were meant as a compliment, it would be prefaced or modified with, "a tough player like him", or "a player who returns as well as him" - but in the absence thereof, it just seemed he was lamenting that conditions and an unusually bad serving day was the cause of the result, and not anything Djokovic did!
Djokovic for his part didn't really take the bait that day. Although, there was something of an interesting response to the next question about learning what it takes to be #1 from playing Roger:
"Yes, I learn every time I play against Roger or Rafa. I learn from those matches always something new, try to, you know, improve on some things which I need to improve."
Two interesting notes - he refers to Roger and Rafa, but at that time, Rafa hadn't come close to reaching #1, he had been a distant #2 for almost 3 years, and secondly, to state so plainly that he was on the road to reaching #1 while Federer was still at the height of his powers was an extraordinary admission of his intent. Few players at the time talked about actually usurping Federer, rather than waiting out his dominance. Even if the Djoker put it off for at least 3 years (one-year off and from the right player, as it turned out).
The last salvo, although it was meant in jest, was this telling exchange:
"Q. Do you think it should still be called the Roger's Cup?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Somebody scream during the match, it's the Roger's Cup. I think it was the third set. It was pretty funny. Yeah, nothing against the sponsor, but obviously I'm going to have to arrange somebody to call Novak's Cup for next year."
Interesting...
Flushing Meadow, New York 2007
Here the Djoker finally made his first major final, and despite having beaten Federer a month earlier in Canada, was a clear underdog in the final. By that time, Djokovic had endeared himself to the press with his underwear modeling and player imitations, and despite rumblings from some corners, he continued to press on with his game and his off-court antics. But note in the next press exchange how he first tacitly acknowledged, then feigned ignorance of the murmur of dissent to his routines:
"Q. How do the players feel? Like Nadal, has he come up to you, or Roddick, I know you do him, Maria, have they made any comments to you about impersonations?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Yeah, yeah.
Q. And?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, I'll keep that is as secret.
Q. They're not mad about it? They're not offended?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: No. Everybody accepts it positively.
Q. Is there anyone who has been really hard to capture, their mannerisms?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, the untouchable one, Roger. Well, he's too perfect for my style. I cannot. Plus, I don't have a long hair. I hope he doesn't hear this."
By this time, even light-hearted ribbing of Federer was a strict no-no in the hierarchy of professional tennis - though you'd have to assume there were a number of players who would like to have had a word or two about him, apparently nobody but Djokovic dared to do so. Furthermore, it appeared that he was being less than forthcoming - there were already clips of him on youtube imitating his Hairness. This was Federer's response to a question about them (not his in particular):
"Well, in the locker room he's always very respectful toward me, you know. He's pretty quiet. I only hear stuff. I didn't see the stuff he did on court the other day. I didn't see what apparently he did in the locker room either. For me, these things, you know, I only hear. But people don't really talk about it. I know some guys weren't happy. I know some guys might think it's funny...He's walking a tightrope, for sure."
Walking a tightrope? Between what and what? Or whom? And specifically, who doesn't like it? Obviously one of the players being imitated, right? And there weren't (at that point) very many - namely Nadal, Roddick, Nalbandian (of whom, when he was asked to imitate him, the Djoker simply distended his belly) McEnroe (retired, not in the locker room), Ivanisevic (retired, not in the locker room) and Federer. Maybe there were others, but who, at that time, on the ATP tour was sufficiently well known to be the subject of an impersonation that some may not have liked?
Though he tried hard to conceal it, it's obvious there were a couple of things bothering Federer about Djokovic. And this was, in all likelihood, and in no small part, due to comments revealed later...
Melbourne, 2008
Here, Djokovic finally got the better of Federer in a major, and here also, began the inclusion of the Djokovic entourage in the simmering tete a tete between the two. First and foremost, Djokovic beat Federer in straight sets, and prevented him from having any chance at the grand slam - something he'd had the previous two years, and once before in 2004. But more of a catalyst to the tele-confrontation, were the remarks of Djokovic's parents.
Although Djokovic's mother, who speaks English better than the father, did most of the talking (the content of which Djokovic later distanced himself), both parents got in their shots at Federer, in support of their son. At first glance, it's no surprise that parents would be proud of, and instilling confidence in their son - all parents would, under the circumstances. But who would do it so publicly? Of her son, vis a vis Federer, Mrs. Djokovic famously had the following to say:
"As we said, 'The king is dead, long live the king',"
Ha-zzing!
She went on:
"Because the last time the US Open they played, my husband said, 'This is the last time he win against Novak'. Because Novak was making the points with Federer's weapon. He told him that he is so mature that he can win, like him (Federer)."
Eventually, she went on to predict that her son would reach #1, and that this would prove to be the first of many majors - of course this was nothing new, but to be so eager to dance on the grave of the man to whom her boy king gaped to his heir, had to be irritating to Federer. If nothing else, he had to feel it was somewhat premature. In fact both Federer and Mrs. Djokovic turned out to be right - it was the first of many, and he did reach #1, but it was also (3 years) premature.
The seeds were sown, nonetheless.
Later, when Federer revealed his diagnosis of mono, explaining he didn't mention it until Dubai (in March) because he didn't want to detract from Djokovic's victory in Australia, it had to raise a few eyebrows in the Djokovic clan, not the least of which because what he professed to avoid, was exactly what he did. And (hard to believe it was coincidentally) after Mrs. Djokovic decided to declare Federer dead. After all, he didn't appear to have mono against anyone else in Australia, so why would it be a factor against Djokovic? Perhaps because Djokovic won. In fact, I would argue that there didn't appear to be anything wrong with Federer physically at that time. He beat a plucky Fabrice Santoro, a difficult Tomas Berdych, and a resurgent James Blake in succession, playing some brilliant tennis, with no inkling that there was anything wrong with him or his game. However, in his defense: 1) if there were something wrong, he'd hardly want to share that with the world and 2) if it were the mono it would have few outward symptoms to the untrained/unknowing eye, but nothing justifies announcing that excuse as he did.
If I were Djokovic, I wouldn't have liked it one bit.
Monte Carlo, 2008
Having lost to Djokovic in Melbourne earlier in the year, and having certainly heard the previous comments from Djokovic's parents thereafter, it wouldn't surprise anyone if Federer were even more motivated to win their encounter in Monte Carlo in the first big tournament of the European clay court season. The surprise was the ease with which Djokovic conceded the match, after complaining of dizziness and retiring because of what would later be (somewhat unjustly) characterized as a "sore throat". The tame resistance he put up, and the resulting hollow win, would certainly have irritated a man who would have been motivated to settle the score. But nothing would irritate him more than what the Djokovic entourage came up with along the way.
In the middle of their match, with friends of the enemy seated in sufficient proximity to be heard at barely their "indoor voices", a shot from Djokovic was called long on the baseline, from which Federer had retreated to position himself for his reply, before the call was made. Having immediately moved, without prompting, towards the mark to check it, as do almost all professional players under the circumstances, Federer had the pleasure of hearing the Serbian peanut gallery call for him to "check the mark!"
What followed was an angry glance at the box, an indignant shout in their direction to, "be quiet, okay?", and a begrudging, if not defiant swipe at the mark (indicating that it had indeed hit the line), and a continued glare in their direction, as he lined himself up for a replay of the point and sado-masochistically struck the bottoms of his shoes with his racquet - ostensibly to release caked clay in the tread. It's worth noting that a player's entourage, by the rules of the tour, have no more right to engage the players in conversation than a random spectator. And any player can request that any spectator be removed from the premises, and the umpire and tournament referee have the right to grant that request - that would include the Djokovic's.
But as it were, Federer put his head down, finished the match, and had this to say when asked about it:
"Q. Was it obvious to you he was ill?
ROGER FEDERER: No. I didn't see anything anyway from my side till when he called the doctor...I didn't feel like he was playing, you know, too sick. Obviously after calling the doctor, you know...you might see some signs. But...I didn't think it was that extreme. Same as Davydenko last week. I mean, I didn't see any big signs till the moment they all of a sudden retired."
There's a palpable reluctance to confirm that Djokovic was, in any demonstrable way, hindered by his illness. Ironic, given his own contention that illness affected him in Melbourne. Furthermore, when lumping Davydenko in with Djokovic, two players who had developed a reputation for giving less than their best effort at times, Federer did neither any favors, although it may just have been because both retired against him in that tournament.
Of the incident where he told the Djokovic's to shut up - neither player was asked about it in the post-match press conference, and no player made any comments thereafter.
But still...
Melbourne, 2009
Having returned to the Australian Open in 2009 as the defending champion, and having suffered the ignominy of becoming the arch-villain at the US Open in 2008 (a year after endearing himself to so many at the tournament with his personality), Djokovic didn't appear to have the bollocks to fight through the physical challenge of winning in Australia. The advantage there always goes to the player with the best preparation, since it is the first major of the season, and few have had a chance to hone their games. Roddick had abundantly prepared by shedding 15+ pounds of weight, and appeared to be fit, quick and (as always) competitive as hell.
Djokovic just looked like hell.
And he got no sympathy from Federer, who said after dispatching del Potro in his quarterfinal:
"He's not a guy who's never given up before ... it's disappointing."
"I've only done it once in my career ... Andy totally deserved to win that match."
"I'm almost in favor of saying, you know what, if you're not fit enough, just get out of here."
"If Novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth. Thanks to Andy that he retired in the end. Andy pushed him to the limits. Hats off to Andy."
Wow - 'just get out of here'? He wouldn't have retired if he were up two sets to love? If you were Djokovic and/or his family, if the antipathy weren't already there, it would have to be now. After all, what business was it of Federer's to comment on Djokovic's health? (Save for the fact that he had been specifically asked about it). And would he have been so categorical had it been Nadal? Or would he have assumed that the injury/issue must have been severe enough to make him quit, and expressed concern?
Ironically, although Federer suggested he wouldn't have retired had he been up two sets to love, Djokovic had in fact retired from a match leading two sets to one, against Nikolay Davydenko, the other oft derided retiree, in a Davis Cup match in February of 2008. So, that particular consideration would have to be considered invalid - of course, it's unclear if that's a good or bad thing for Djokovic!
Nevertheless, the pot was stirred.
Miami, 2009
It's never fun to get your ass handed to you on a tennis court, and you would think that a player of Federer's caliber would handle it well, given that it was happening so rarely, but his semi-final loss to Djokovic in Miami in 2009 included a shocking breakdown in his calm veneer when for the first time in years (it seemed) he violently destroyed a racquet in frustration. The match was of quite poor quality, with Florida's early spring winds making the ball play tricks on both players - but clearly Djokovic handled the conditions better, and found a way to win, rather than fall a apart, as did Federer.
You couldn't help but wonder if any other player on tour would have elicited such a response from Federer? Could losing to Djokovic, after losing his #1 ranking and his beloved Wimbledon crown, and an Australian Open final to Nadal, and getting obliterated by Mardy Fish in Indian Wells a couple weaks earlier, have been the straw that broke the camel's back? To anyone observing Federer's uncharacteristic meltdown, it seemed to be. After all, if there was a player on tour against whom he should have lost his temper, because he just couldn't take it anymore, it should have been Nadal (against whom he did lose his temper back in 2005 at the same tournament, but never/rarely since).
It seems there would have to be something that particularly irked him about losing to Djokovic.
Basel, 2009
So this one is the wild-card, but apparently, as a gesture of good will, Federer's mother invited the Djokovic clan to their home in Basel (during the indoor tournament in 2009) for a two-family dinner, which supposedly did much to improve the relationship - but why would that be necessary if there was nothing in it to improve?
I think that is probably the clearest evidence yet of a rift to be healed.
Indian Wells, 2011
After their Indian Wells final in 2011 - having lost his first big final of the year to Djokovic, Nadal said in his acceptance speech:
"I lost today but I lost against one of the greatest."
Perhaps in response, or in defiance of the going sentiment that Federer is the GOAT, Djokovic said to Nadal in his acceptance speech:
"It's always a pleasure playing against you, you are a big champion - to me you are the greatest player ever..."
Well, well, well...I don't know any player on tour who has said this - they all defer the GOAT debate to Federer - it's only in some quarters of the media, and in the lunatic fringe of the blogosphere that he isn't. But here, the hottest player on tour, with a growing major record of his own, having played almost 30 times against each of the games most respected players, identified Nadal - and more importantly not Federer - as his choice for the greatest of all time. A lone voice among so many of their contemporaries - but a significant one. When asked to explain himself in the post-match press conference, far from backing away from his comment, he doubled down on it:
"Q. What was behind you saying to him in the trophy ceremony that you thought he was the best player ever?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, I think I have said what I needed to say. There is nothing behind. It's just what I think.
Q. So you think he's better all-time than Roger?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: I think he's the best ever because, even though he's 24, 25 years old, he has done so much already, you know. Many years in front of him to, you know, I think even to overtake Roger in the Grand Slam trophies."
How about that? So, even after joining the families for dinner, and having nothing but nice things to say about each other since, it seems one or the other cannot resist the temptation to do or say something that would obviously get under the other's skin.
Neither has made any comment on the matter since then.
Paris, 2011
The semi-final between Federer and Djokovic at the French Open in 2011 denied what many suspected would have finally been the day Nadal would learn the word "comeuppance" in French, after losing to his nemesis 4 times in 2011, and twice on his best surface, in Madrid and Rome. All of their matches had been very close, most of them going the distance, and the unmoveable object of Nadal at Roland Garros, would have met an apparently irresistible force in Djokovic had he made the final.
But somebody forgot to tell Federer to read his own obituary - and nobody was more irritated than Djokovic.
Throughout the match, Djokovic appeared to be irritable - when a spectator had a seizure at the end of the first game, his first service game, which was broken, by the way, Djokovic appeared to be on the verge of having a go at the crowd for intentionally (or otherwise) disrupting him. Reason got the better of him when he realized it was a medical emergency - I guess nobody told him the "Au secours" he heard in french means, "Help!"
But as the match wore on - not only did Djokovic have problems with his footing, something that he seemed to have resolved with significantly improved footwork, there seemed to also have a problem with the crowd - again! Over and over again, they seemed to take Federer as an adopted Frenchman. While Nadal has grown accustomed to this treatment by the French, at the hands of Federer, he had (and still has) the game to let all of that wash over him like a warm breeze. But Djokovic had no answer to Federer's brilliance that day. And, as is most often the case, with Federer serving as well as he did, Djokovic was left to respond to point after point with sarcastic, head-shaking incredulity at how his winning streak, and his almost certain coronation as the champion against a Nadal, a player he owned at the time, was fading away like the light on Phillipe Chatrier that twindled so poetically at the end of the match.
If you watch the clips, you can see, at one point, Ion Tiriac, a fellow eastern European, angrily and fervently gesticulating in support of Djokovic as he stood alone, with the exception of his entourage, struggling to keep the match alive, while the French crowd ruthlessly bayed for his blood. Tiriac, no stranger to being unappreciated by the game, appeared to be the only one not related, in love with, or working for Djokovic that wasn't. It is at these times when tennis can be its most cruel. After all, as a global sport, why should one player, who has won so much, be so heavily supported by the crowd? So the reception Federer received must have been an arrow in the heart to a player who so obviously wants to be loved.
That's why that little index finger of Federer's, shaken after hitting an ace on match point, at once dismissively and defiantly, in the direction of Tiriac, Djokovic and his entourage, was so unexpected. After all, were they the only ones Federer saw in the crowd? Could he have better blocked out the undying support from the French spectators (who so desperately willed him to win), than Djokovic (whom they so desperately willed him to lose)? Could that laser focus have been due, in part, to a commensurate disdain with which he continues to view Djokovic and his coterie?
Conclusion
It took a while for Federer to come to grips with the fact that Nadal was not just an irritant, who had no business beating him, but a great player in his own right, and the glowing terms with which he has spoken of him since 2008 is a testament to that. Nadal, for his part, has had little to say that could be construed as negative towards either of his main rivals.
And Djokovic, who has avoided stirring the embers of what is presumed to be a long dead fire of discord, also seems to be reading from the same script. Perhaps Federer, who would certainly resent the bombast, if not from Djokovic, from his parents, and also view Djokovic as an irritant who can't hold a stick to the breadth and depth of his game, would have to conclude now that there is no shame in losing to him. Perhaps this would do much to temper what, for all the above evidence, would have appeared to be a cold war between the two - always circulating, rarely confronting, but always on the verge of a renewed conflagration.
But is that good for the game? Isn't it better to have the feeling that they really don't like each other? For my part, I would prefer the latter. Think:
Connors/McEnroe
Connors/Lendl
Lendl/McEnroe
Agassi/Sampras
Agassi/Becker
Sampras/Rafter
Isn't it more compelling when you know they don't care for each other? I'm not saying they have to engage in a kind of pro-wrestling pantomime, but part of me feels there is that one thing missing from tennis, that isn't altogether a bad thing. It is often said that Rugby is a game for rogues played by gentlemen, and football is a game for gentlemen played by rogues.
What is tennis? These days, it's a game for gladiators played by hypersensitive types, who you know can't stand each other, but won't give you the satisfaction of admitting it.
Give me my satisfaction, please.
There is clearly respect between Federer and Nadal, the latter of which has always professed his admiration of the other, with the former only recently appearing to concede a comfort with sharing the greatest esteem in the game. Between Djokovic and Nadal, there rarely appears to be any antipathy - even in the midst of Nadal's desprate 7-match losing streak to his (other) nemesis, there didn't appear to be any hard feelings between the two - unusual for a rivalry which has been so unbalanced in both directions at various times.
Which leads us to what appears to be the frosty Fedjoker relationship - though they both deny it, and few specific qualms have shed light on the true nature of the distance between the two, it always appears to be there...lurking...just waiting for the light of day to reveal itself. Below is a chronology of what, at best, could be considered circumstantial evidence of a rift. Having said that, circumstantial cases are made in the judicial system all the time. So here goes:
2006 Davis Cup - Switzerland
During the relegation tie with Serbia/Montenegro, Djokovic played his first rubber against Stanislav Wawrinka, a grueling 5-set match that saw Djokovic prevail in the end. The match also saw the opening salvo in a stealth war of words between the two ever since, where Federer labelled the young player "a joke" after making multiple calls to the trainer during the match. This year Federer went out of his way to explain that he was simply irritated that his friend (Wawrinka) had been beaten despite the calls to the trainer, and that the rift was addressed a month or so later in Madrid (when it hosted an in indoor Masters 1000 tournament - which Federer won, by the way).
Federer went on to obliterate Djokovic in their second career head to head, in 3 straight sets to clinch the tie for Switzerland.
This was not a new or isolated complaint against Djokovic and his penchant for calling for the trainer, who has since been accused at various times by multiple players (including Tommy Robredo and Andy Roddick) of being something of hypochondriac following and preceding their respective matches with the Djoker at the 2008 US Open. By then, Djokovic had already earned a reputation of being quick to call for help and making miraculous recoveries, and quick to retire from matches. Both players so noted with disdain.
It's also worth noting further that the comment following the match with Wawrinka by Federer, was the first time any player of note made any complaints to that effect, so there could be a question of whether Federer actually initiated this reputation, or at the very least paved the way for it. To be fair, Djokovic did little to contradict it over the next 4 years, but it should also be noted that both Robredo and Roddick are of Federer's generation, and their opinions might be considered today to be somewhat old school by the standard of modern players.
Nevertheless the plot thickened.
Montreal 2007
By the time they met in the final of the Rogers Cup in Montreal, Federer had beaten Djokovic the first 4 times they'd played, and rarely been troubled by his game. Thus, it would have come as a surprise to most that the tennis yokozuna, who had won 2 of the first 3 majors that year, reached all three major finals, had just won his fifth Wimbledon title in a row, and enjoyed a huge lead in the race for #1, lost so close to the US Open to Djokovic.
In the post match press conference, Federer was asked if he saw and respected the similarities between his game and Djokovic's, as compared to the differences between his and Nadal's and his response was:
"No, not really. I mean, he plays like many other players on tour. You know, I mean, he's steady off the baseline, he's got a pretty good serve. But...nothing outrageous in his game. Always pretty predictable, which is a good thing. Yeah, you get some good rallies against him because he scrambles well, moves to the ball well, moves the ball around very nicely. Yeah, I enjoy playing against him."
Although there's nothing directly insulting in that statement, notable is a lack of appreciation for 1) any comparison to his own game, 2) Djokovic having beaten the top 3 players in the same tournament (Roddick, Nadal and Federer), or 3) winning his second Masters 1000 of the year (he had already won Miami). And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost interpret his throw away statement, that he enjoys playing him, because he's predictable and there's nothing outrageous in his game, as a euphemism for the guy being easy pickings for him.
He went on to say, in assessing his game that day that:
"I could never really breathe. Maybe that was a bit my problem today. It's such a pity, you know, when I start a match against a player like him serving so bad in the opening game."
Now, if I were Djokovic, I wouldn't take too kindly to being referred to as, "a player like him" - if it were meant as a compliment, it would be prefaced or modified with, "a tough player like him", or "a player who returns as well as him" - but in the absence thereof, it just seemed he was lamenting that conditions and an unusually bad serving day was the cause of the result, and not anything Djokovic did!
Djokovic for his part didn't really take the bait that day. Although, there was something of an interesting response to the next question about learning what it takes to be #1 from playing Roger:
"Yes, I learn every time I play against Roger or Rafa. I learn from those matches always something new, try to, you know, improve on some things which I need to improve."
Two interesting notes - he refers to Roger and Rafa, but at that time, Rafa hadn't come close to reaching #1, he had been a distant #2 for almost 3 years, and secondly, to state so plainly that he was on the road to reaching #1 while Federer was still at the height of his powers was an extraordinary admission of his intent. Few players at the time talked about actually usurping Federer, rather than waiting out his dominance. Even if the Djoker put it off for at least 3 years (one-year off and from the right player, as it turned out).
The last salvo, although it was meant in jest, was this telling exchange:
"Q. Do you think it should still be called the Roger's Cup?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Somebody scream during the match, it's the Roger's Cup. I think it was the third set. It was pretty funny. Yeah, nothing against the sponsor, but obviously I'm going to have to arrange somebody to call Novak's Cup for next year."
Interesting...
Flushing Meadow, New York 2007
Here the Djoker finally made his first major final, and despite having beaten Federer a month earlier in Canada, was a clear underdog in the final. By that time, Djokovic had endeared himself to the press with his underwear modeling and player imitations, and despite rumblings from some corners, he continued to press on with his game and his off-court antics. But note in the next press exchange how he first tacitly acknowledged, then feigned ignorance of the murmur of dissent to his routines:
"Q. How do the players feel? Like Nadal, has he come up to you, or Roddick, I know you do him, Maria, have they made any comments to you about impersonations?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Yeah, yeah.
Q. And?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, I'll keep that is as secret.
Q. They're not mad about it? They're not offended?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: No. Everybody accepts it positively.
Q. Is there anyone who has been really hard to capture, their mannerisms?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, the untouchable one, Roger. Well, he's too perfect for my style. I cannot. Plus, I don't have a long hair. I hope he doesn't hear this."
By this time, even light-hearted ribbing of Federer was a strict no-no in the hierarchy of professional tennis - though you'd have to assume there were a number of players who would like to have had a word or two about him, apparently nobody but Djokovic dared to do so. Furthermore, it appeared that he was being less than forthcoming - there were already clips of him on youtube imitating his Hairness. This was Federer's response to a question about them (not his in particular):
"Well, in the locker room he's always very respectful toward me, you know. He's pretty quiet. I only hear stuff. I didn't see the stuff he did on court the other day. I didn't see what apparently he did in the locker room either. For me, these things, you know, I only hear. But people don't really talk about it. I know some guys weren't happy. I know some guys might think it's funny...He's walking a tightrope, for sure."
Walking a tightrope? Between what and what? Or whom? And specifically, who doesn't like it? Obviously one of the players being imitated, right? And there weren't (at that point) very many - namely Nadal, Roddick, Nalbandian (of whom, when he was asked to imitate him, the Djoker simply distended his belly) McEnroe (retired, not in the locker room), Ivanisevic (retired, not in the locker room) and Federer. Maybe there were others, but who, at that time, on the ATP tour was sufficiently well known to be the subject of an impersonation that some may not have liked?
Though he tried hard to conceal it, it's obvious there were a couple of things bothering Federer about Djokovic. And this was, in all likelihood, and in no small part, due to comments revealed later...
Melbourne, 2008
Here, Djokovic finally got the better of Federer in a major, and here also, began the inclusion of the Djokovic entourage in the simmering tete a tete between the two. First and foremost, Djokovic beat Federer in straight sets, and prevented him from having any chance at the grand slam - something he'd had the previous two years, and once before in 2004. But more of a catalyst to the tele-confrontation, were the remarks of Djokovic's parents.
Although Djokovic's mother, who speaks English better than the father, did most of the talking (the content of which Djokovic later distanced himself), both parents got in their shots at Federer, in support of their son. At first glance, it's no surprise that parents would be proud of, and instilling confidence in their son - all parents would, under the circumstances. But who would do it so publicly? Of her son, vis a vis Federer, Mrs. Djokovic famously had the following to say:
"As we said, 'The king is dead, long live the king',"
Ha-zzing!
She went on:
"Because the last time the US Open they played, my husband said, 'This is the last time he win against Novak'. Because Novak was making the points with Federer's weapon. He told him that he is so mature that he can win, like him (Federer)."
Eventually, she went on to predict that her son would reach #1, and that this would prove to be the first of many majors - of course this was nothing new, but to be so eager to dance on the grave of the man to whom her boy king gaped to his heir, had to be irritating to Federer. If nothing else, he had to feel it was somewhat premature. In fact both Federer and Mrs. Djokovic turned out to be right - it was the first of many, and he did reach #1, but it was also (3 years) premature.
The seeds were sown, nonetheless.
Later, when Federer revealed his diagnosis of mono, explaining he didn't mention it until Dubai (in March) because he didn't want to detract from Djokovic's victory in Australia, it had to raise a few eyebrows in the Djokovic clan, not the least of which because what he professed to avoid, was exactly what he did. And (hard to believe it was coincidentally) after Mrs. Djokovic decided to declare Federer dead. After all, he didn't appear to have mono against anyone else in Australia, so why would it be a factor against Djokovic? Perhaps because Djokovic won. In fact, I would argue that there didn't appear to be anything wrong with Federer physically at that time. He beat a plucky Fabrice Santoro, a difficult Tomas Berdych, and a resurgent James Blake in succession, playing some brilliant tennis, with no inkling that there was anything wrong with him or his game. However, in his defense: 1) if there were something wrong, he'd hardly want to share that with the world and 2) if it were the mono it would have few outward symptoms to the untrained/unknowing eye, but nothing justifies announcing that excuse as he did.
If I were Djokovic, I wouldn't have liked it one bit.
Monte Carlo, 2008
Having lost to Djokovic in Melbourne earlier in the year, and having certainly heard the previous comments from Djokovic's parents thereafter, it wouldn't surprise anyone if Federer were even more motivated to win their encounter in Monte Carlo in the first big tournament of the European clay court season. The surprise was the ease with which Djokovic conceded the match, after complaining of dizziness and retiring because of what would later be (somewhat unjustly) characterized as a "sore throat". The tame resistance he put up, and the resulting hollow win, would certainly have irritated a man who would have been motivated to settle the score. But nothing would irritate him more than what the Djokovic entourage came up with along the way.
In the middle of their match, with friends of the enemy seated in sufficient proximity to be heard at barely their "indoor voices", a shot from Djokovic was called long on the baseline, from which Federer had retreated to position himself for his reply, before the call was made. Having immediately moved, without prompting, towards the mark to check it, as do almost all professional players under the circumstances, Federer had the pleasure of hearing the Serbian peanut gallery call for him to "check the mark!"
What followed was an angry glance at the box, an indignant shout in their direction to, "be quiet, okay?", and a begrudging, if not defiant swipe at the mark (indicating that it had indeed hit the line), and a continued glare in their direction, as he lined himself up for a replay of the point and sado-masochistically struck the bottoms of his shoes with his racquet - ostensibly to release caked clay in the tread. It's worth noting that a player's entourage, by the rules of the tour, have no more right to engage the players in conversation than a random spectator. And any player can request that any spectator be removed from the premises, and the umpire and tournament referee have the right to grant that request - that would include the Djokovic's.
But as it were, Federer put his head down, finished the match, and had this to say when asked about it:
"Q. Was it obvious to you he was ill?
ROGER FEDERER: No. I didn't see anything anyway from my side till when he called the doctor...I didn't feel like he was playing, you know, too sick. Obviously after calling the doctor, you know...you might see some signs. But...I didn't think it was that extreme. Same as Davydenko last week. I mean, I didn't see any big signs till the moment they all of a sudden retired."
There's a palpable reluctance to confirm that Djokovic was, in any demonstrable way, hindered by his illness. Ironic, given his own contention that illness affected him in Melbourne. Furthermore, when lumping Davydenko in with Djokovic, two players who had developed a reputation for giving less than their best effort at times, Federer did neither any favors, although it may just have been because both retired against him in that tournament.
Of the incident where he told the Djokovic's to shut up - neither player was asked about it in the post-match press conference, and no player made any comments thereafter.
But still...
Melbourne, 2009
Having returned to the Australian Open in 2009 as the defending champion, and having suffered the ignominy of becoming the arch-villain at the US Open in 2008 (a year after endearing himself to so many at the tournament with his personality), Djokovic didn't appear to have the bollocks to fight through the physical challenge of winning in Australia. The advantage there always goes to the player with the best preparation, since it is the first major of the season, and few have had a chance to hone their games. Roddick had abundantly prepared by shedding 15+ pounds of weight, and appeared to be fit, quick and (as always) competitive as hell.
Djokovic just looked like hell.
And he got no sympathy from Federer, who said after dispatching del Potro in his quarterfinal:
"He's not a guy who's never given up before ... it's disappointing."
"I've only done it once in my career ... Andy totally deserved to win that match."
"I'm almost in favor of saying, you know what, if you're not fit enough, just get out of here."
"If Novak were up two sets to love I don't think he would have retired 4-0 down in the fourth. Thanks to Andy that he retired in the end. Andy pushed him to the limits. Hats off to Andy."
Wow - 'just get out of here'? He wouldn't have retired if he were up two sets to love? If you were Djokovic and/or his family, if the antipathy weren't already there, it would have to be now. After all, what business was it of Federer's to comment on Djokovic's health? (Save for the fact that he had been specifically asked about it). And would he have been so categorical had it been Nadal? Or would he have assumed that the injury/issue must have been severe enough to make him quit, and expressed concern?
Ironically, although Federer suggested he wouldn't have retired had he been up two sets to love, Djokovic had in fact retired from a match leading two sets to one, against Nikolay Davydenko, the other oft derided retiree, in a Davis Cup match in February of 2008. So, that particular consideration would have to be considered invalid - of course, it's unclear if that's a good or bad thing for Djokovic!
Nevertheless, the pot was stirred.
Miami, 2009
It's never fun to get your ass handed to you on a tennis court, and you would think that a player of Federer's caliber would handle it well, given that it was happening so rarely, but his semi-final loss to Djokovic in Miami in 2009 included a shocking breakdown in his calm veneer when for the first time in years (it seemed) he violently destroyed a racquet in frustration. The match was of quite poor quality, with Florida's early spring winds making the ball play tricks on both players - but clearly Djokovic handled the conditions better, and found a way to win, rather than fall a apart, as did Federer.
You couldn't help but wonder if any other player on tour would have elicited such a response from Federer? Could losing to Djokovic, after losing his #1 ranking and his beloved Wimbledon crown, and an Australian Open final to Nadal, and getting obliterated by Mardy Fish in Indian Wells a couple weaks earlier, have been the straw that broke the camel's back? To anyone observing Federer's uncharacteristic meltdown, it seemed to be. After all, if there was a player on tour against whom he should have lost his temper, because he just couldn't take it anymore, it should have been Nadal (against whom he did lose his temper back in 2005 at the same tournament, but never/rarely since).
It seems there would have to be something that particularly irked him about losing to Djokovic.
Basel, 2009
So this one is the wild-card, but apparently, as a gesture of good will, Federer's mother invited the Djokovic clan to their home in Basel (during the indoor tournament in 2009) for a two-family dinner, which supposedly did much to improve the relationship - but why would that be necessary if there was nothing in it to improve?
I think that is probably the clearest evidence yet of a rift to be healed.
Indian Wells, 2011
After their Indian Wells final in 2011 - having lost his first big final of the year to Djokovic, Nadal said in his acceptance speech:
"I lost today but I lost against one of the greatest."
Perhaps in response, or in defiance of the going sentiment that Federer is the GOAT, Djokovic said to Nadal in his acceptance speech:
"It's always a pleasure playing against you, you are a big champion - to me you are the greatest player ever..."
Well, well, well...I don't know any player on tour who has said this - they all defer the GOAT debate to Federer - it's only in some quarters of the media, and in the lunatic fringe of the blogosphere that he isn't. But here, the hottest player on tour, with a growing major record of his own, having played almost 30 times against each of the games most respected players, identified Nadal - and more importantly not Federer - as his choice for the greatest of all time. A lone voice among so many of their contemporaries - but a significant one. When asked to explain himself in the post-match press conference, far from backing away from his comment, he doubled down on it:
"Q. What was behind you saying to him in the trophy ceremony that you thought he was the best player ever?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: Well, I think I have said what I needed to say. There is nothing behind. It's just what I think.
Q. So you think he's better all-time than Roger?
NOVAK DJOKOVIC: I think he's the best ever because, even though he's 24, 25 years old, he has done so much already, you know. Many years in front of him to, you know, I think even to overtake Roger in the Grand Slam trophies."
How about that? So, even after joining the families for dinner, and having nothing but nice things to say about each other since, it seems one or the other cannot resist the temptation to do or say something that would obviously get under the other's skin.
Neither has made any comment on the matter since then.
Paris, 2011
The semi-final between Federer and Djokovic at the French Open in 2011 denied what many suspected would have finally been the day Nadal would learn the word "comeuppance" in French, after losing to his nemesis 4 times in 2011, and twice on his best surface, in Madrid and Rome. All of their matches had been very close, most of them going the distance, and the unmoveable object of Nadal at Roland Garros, would have met an apparently irresistible force in Djokovic had he made the final.
But somebody forgot to tell Federer to read his own obituary - and nobody was more irritated than Djokovic.
Throughout the match, Djokovic appeared to be irritable - when a spectator had a seizure at the end of the first game, his first service game, which was broken, by the way, Djokovic appeared to be on the verge of having a go at the crowd for intentionally (or otherwise) disrupting him. Reason got the better of him when he realized it was a medical emergency - I guess nobody told him the "Au secours" he heard in french means, "Help!"
But as the match wore on - not only did Djokovic have problems with his footing, something that he seemed to have resolved with significantly improved footwork, there seemed to also have a problem with the crowd - again! Over and over again, they seemed to take Federer as an adopted Frenchman. While Nadal has grown accustomed to this treatment by the French, at the hands of Federer, he had (and still has) the game to let all of that wash over him like a warm breeze. But Djokovic had no answer to Federer's brilliance that day. And, as is most often the case, with Federer serving as well as he did, Djokovic was left to respond to point after point with sarcastic, head-shaking incredulity at how his winning streak, and his almost certain coronation as the champion against a Nadal, a player he owned at the time, was fading away like the light on Phillipe Chatrier that twindled so poetically at the end of the match.
If you watch the clips, you can see, at one point, Ion Tiriac, a fellow eastern European, angrily and fervently gesticulating in support of Djokovic as he stood alone, with the exception of his entourage, struggling to keep the match alive, while the French crowd ruthlessly bayed for his blood. Tiriac, no stranger to being unappreciated by the game, appeared to be the only one not related, in love with, or working for Djokovic that wasn't. It is at these times when tennis can be its most cruel. After all, as a global sport, why should one player, who has won so much, be so heavily supported by the crowd? So the reception Federer received must have been an arrow in the heart to a player who so obviously wants to be loved.
That's why that little index finger of Federer's, shaken after hitting an ace on match point, at once dismissively and defiantly, in the direction of Tiriac, Djokovic and his entourage, was so unexpected. After all, were they the only ones Federer saw in the crowd? Could he have better blocked out the undying support from the French spectators (who so desperately willed him to win), than Djokovic (whom they so desperately willed him to lose)? Could that laser focus have been due, in part, to a commensurate disdain with which he continues to view Djokovic and his coterie?
Conclusion
It took a while for Federer to come to grips with the fact that Nadal was not just an irritant, who had no business beating him, but a great player in his own right, and the glowing terms with which he has spoken of him since 2008 is a testament to that. Nadal, for his part, has had little to say that could be construed as negative towards either of his main rivals.
And Djokovic, who has avoided stirring the embers of what is presumed to be a long dead fire of discord, also seems to be reading from the same script. Perhaps Federer, who would certainly resent the bombast, if not from Djokovic, from his parents, and also view Djokovic as an irritant who can't hold a stick to the breadth and depth of his game, would have to conclude now that there is no shame in losing to him. Perhaps this would do much to temper what, for all the above evidence, would have appeared to be a cold war between the two - always circulating, rarely confronting, but always on the verge of a renewed conflagration.
But is that good for the game? Isn't it better to have the feeling that they really don't like each other? For my part, I would prefer the latter. Think:
Connors/McEnroe
Connors/Lendl
Lendl/McEnroe
Agassi/Sampras
Agassi/Becker
Sampras/Rafter
Isn't it more compelling when you know they don't care for each other? I'm not saying they have to engage in a kind of pro-wrestling pantomime, but part of me feels there is that one thing missing from tennis, that isn't altogether a bad thing. It is often said that Rugby is a game for rogues played by gentlemen, and football is a game for gentlemen played by rogues.
What is tennis? These days, it's a game for gladiators played by hypersensitive types, who you know can't stand each other, but won't give you the satisfaction of admitting it.
Give me my satisfaction, please.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
The Hindrance Rule Trilogy - The Umpire Screws Up
So, based on the statistics, in all likelihood you have come to see about the hindrance rule referred to in this post concerning Serena Williams in the final of the US Open last year against Sam Stosur:
http://tennis-column.blogspot.com/2011/09/hindrance-rule.html
or this post concerning Mardy Fish in Miami this year against Matthew Ebden:
http://tennis-column.blogspot.com/2012/03/again-with-hindrance-rule.html
There were a couple of coincidences about the two incidences that made them interesting to align with each other - both players against whom the hindrance rule was called were Americans who were ignorant of the specifics of the rule, thought they should get a let and refused to shake the umpire's hand at the end of the match - umpires who were 100% right, by the way - and they lost the ruling and the match to Australians.
Interestingly, today in the US Open semi-final between Tomas Berdych and Andy Murray, the end of the first set saw another hindrance ruling, only this time, I have to say that
(1) the umpire, Pascal Maria - one of the best in the game - got it wrong, but
(2) was man enough to admit his mistake, and (with help from Murray)
(3) make right what he did wrong.
First the rule:
"Rule 26. HINDRANCE
If a player is hindered in playing the point by a deliberate act of the opponent(s), the player shall win the point.
However, the point shall be replayed if a player is hindered in playing the point by either an unintentional act of the opponent(s), or something outside the player’s own control..."
So, there are two parts of the hindrance rule: (1) was it a hindrance? and (2) was the act that caused the hindrance deliberate?
Clearly the hat falling off of Murray's head in the middle of the point, fully in Berdych's line of sight, while he still had a play on the ball, was a hindrance. And just as clearly, unlike Serena and Mardy, the act that caused the hindrance was not intentional - Murray didn't intend to take off his hat. But Pascal Maria, one of the best umpires in the game, allowed the point to stand, originally ruling that the hindrance did not affect Berdych's ability to reach the ball - only that's not part of the hindrance rule.
The rule that Maria referred to is used when an overrule is made - when a ball is called "out" that is corrected to "in". Appendix V, Case 7 states:
"If a chair umpire or line umpire calls “out” and then corrects the call to good, what is the correct decision?
Decision: The chair umpire must decide if the original “out” call was a hindrance to either player. If it was a hindrance, the point shall be replayed. If it was not a hindrance, the player who hit the ball wins the point."
So if the play "invalidated" by a corrected "out" call was not affected by that call (either because the player chose not to swing at it assuming incorrectly that it was out, or the shot was just too good), then the player who hit the shot on the corrected call wins the point. But this doesn't apply to a hindrance caused by AN OPPONENT, to which THE hindrance rule 26 above refers.
Murray then approached, sensing that the umpire had made a mistake and didn't want to take a point he didn't deserve, and asked Berdych (several times actually) if he was 100% certain that the cap hit the ground while the ball was in play, which speaks to the first hurdle of whether it was a hindrance.
Fortunately Murray was man enough to suggest to the umpire that they play a let, and Maria was man enough to agree to correct his mistake (which I believe he only did once realized he was applying the wrong rule) and justice, almost accidentally, was actually served.
Unfortunately Murray proceeded to lose the point he would have won had his hat stayed on, and also proceeded to lose the set. But FORTUNATELY he won the match and not a single question was asked about it in the post match press conference with Berdych.
Oh how quickly we forget.
http://tennis-column.blogspot.com/2011/09/hindrance-rule.html
or this post concerning Mardy Fish in Miami this year against Matthew Ebden:
http://tennis-column.blogspot.com/2012/03/again-with-hindrance-rule.html
There were a couple of coincidences about the two incidences that made them interesting to align with each other - both players against whom the hindrance rule was called were Americans who were ignorant of the specifics of the rule, thought they should get a let and refused to shake the umpire's hand at the end of the match - umpires who were 100% right, by the way - and they lost the ruling and the match to Australians.
Interestingly, today in the US Open semi-final between Tomas Berdych and Andy Murray, the end of the first set saw another hindrance ruling, only this time, I have to say that
(1) the umpire, Pascal Maria - one of the best in the game - got it wrong, but
(2) was man enough to admit his mistake, and (with help from Murray)
(3) make right what he did wrong.
First the rule:
"Rule 26. HINDRANCE
If a player is hindered in playing the point by a deliberate act of the opponent(s), the player shall win the point.
However, the point shall be replayed if a player is hindered in playing the point by either an unintentional act of the opponent(s), or something outside the player’s own control..."
So, there are two parts of the hindrance rule: (1) was it a hindrance? and (2) was the act that caused the hindrance deliberate?
Clearly the hat falling off of Murray's head in the middle of the point, fully in Berdych's line of sight, while he still had a play on the ball, was a hindrance. And just as clearly, unlike Serena and Mardy, the act that caused the hindrance was not intentional - Murray didn't intend to take off his hat. But Pascal Maria, one of the best umpires in the game, allowed the point to stand, originally ruling that the hindrance did not affect Berdych's ability to reach the ball - only that's not part of the hindrance rule.
The rule that Maria referred to is used when an overrule is made - when a ball is called "out" that is corrected to "in". Appendix V, Case 7 states:
"If a chair umpire or line umpire calls “out” and then corrects the call to good, what is the correct decision?
Decision: The chair umpire must decide if the original “out” call was a hindrance to either player. If it was a hindrance, the point shall be replayed. If it was not a hindrance, the player who hit the ball wins the point."
So if the play "invalidated" by a corrected "out" call was not affected by that call (either because the player chose not to swing at it assuming incorrectly that it was out, or the shot was just too good), then the player who hit the shot on the corrected call wins the point. But this doesn't apply to a hindrance caused by AN OPPONENT, to which THE hindrance rule 26 above refers.
Murray then approached, sensing that the umpire had made a mistake and didn't want to take a point he didn't deserve, and asked Berdych (several times actually) if he was 100% certain that the cap hit the ground while the ball was in play, which speaks to the first hurdle of whether it was a hindrance.
Fortunately Murray was man enough to suggest to the umpire that they play a let, and Maria was man enough to agree to correct his mistake (which I believe he only did once realized he was applying the wrong rule) and justice, almost accidentally, was actually served.
Unfortunately Murray proceeded to lose the point he would have won had his hat stayed on, and also proceeded to lose the set. But FORTUNATELY he won the match and not a single question was asked about it in the post match press conference with Berdych.
Oh how quickly we forget.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
FED DEAD WRONG
THIS POST IS INCORRECTLY DATED IT SHOULD READ 3/12/2008
I used to read blog posts about the mind games Federer plays with his opponents, and loathe that I am to accept it, I have to admit that his recent attempts to justify his poor results are indeed evidence of this. Let me be perfectly clear: there's no conspiracy, and the press are not helping him get results. If his opponents are afraid of him it's because of their results against him - at the end of the day he still has to hit the shots.
I used to read blog posts about the mind games Federer plays with his opponents, and loathe that I am to accept it, I have to admit that his recent attempts to justify his poor results are indeed evidence of this. Let me be perfectly clear: there's no conspiracy, and the press are not helping him get results. If his opponents are afraid of him it's because of their results against him - at the end of the day he still has to hit the shots.
But blaming his losses in Australia and then Dubai on an undiagnosed case of mono is about the lowest I've ever seen Fed go. I give him credit for carrying himself appropriately during his reign as #1 - he could have been unbearably arrogant and surly with everyone all the time, as was say...John McEnroe, Jimmy Connors and Illie Nastase...but he hasn't. For this he deserves credit.
But what purpose is served by claiming his results were down to illness? First consider that every player on tour could be suffering from some sort of discomfort, injury or illness - never mind their personal lives which can easily impact their game. So the fact that Fed is announcing his injury, and laying the blame for his losses at this altar of self-pity, is counter balanced by the likelihood that his opponents over the last four years have also been carrying some handicaps. At the end of the day, we generally don't know, and rightfully don't care, because if you're fit enough to pick up a ball and racquet, you must accept the results regardless of your own mental qualifications thereof.
That he even thought to include in his explanation and additional explanation of why he didn't want to say anything before is further evidence that he recognizes how his assertions would (and should) be received by the objective observer. I doubt had Federer won in Australia and Dubai he'd have bothered to mention his illness. He did the same in his first match against Canas in Indian Wells last year - blaming the loss on a blister. Two weeks later he lost to the same man with no excuse - there may have been one, but even the casual observer would certainly have adjudged them ridiculous. After that second loss, he actually consoled himself (publicly) by saying it was better to lose to the same player twice, making it more likely that the loss is down to some esoteric circumstance of that match up that is unlikely to repeat itself, than starting to lose to all kinds of people.
But why bother with either explanation?
Much has been made of the effect that the aura of Federer has had on his opponents, and I have to say that in this I totally agree. There are any number of players who appear to have lost the match before they step on the court, and rather than continue fighting to the end, seem to accept their fate as inevitable. Where I differ with the lunatic fringe of the blogosphere is in the suggestion that that aura is the result of a media and public relations offensive that has lasted 4 years, in which his management, the tennis media and even some of his opponents are complicit. The suggestion that you can win just by walking on the court is espoused only by those who have no idea how difficult it is to play professional tennis. At the end of the day, you still have to hit the shots, and it is only this that creates the true aura.
But there is certainly an aura - Borg had it for 3 years, Connors for a couple in the 70's, and Laver for many in the 60's, and Pancho Gonzales? Don't get me started. I doubt anyone would put their success down to media hype or anything other than their superior play, but for some reason Federer's detractors can't bring themselves to admit the obvious - the man has played great tennis for the last 4 years, and as a result he's scared the piss out of 99 out 100 players on tour.
But you can begin to depend on your aura, and I think this may have started to happen here. The US Open final of 2007 was Novak Djokovic's to lose - he had set points in each of the first two, and I can stone cold guarantee you that if he had won the first, that match would have turned out very differently. Federer didn't hit but one winner in that sequence, most of the set points were lost due to Djokovic's errors, including an inopportune double-fault or two. Bottom line: he choked, and he choked because he just couldn't handle the fact that he was about to beat the myth.
But what is more telling is not the fact that Djokovic choked those set points away, but the way Federer played those points - in fact, I think it's fitting to say that Federer's willingness to let his opponent self-destruct, rather than attack him in that moment was an indication that he recognized the power of his aura, and let it do its work. Now it's anyone's guess if he would have taken a different approach in the second set, had he lost that first, but because it wasn't broke, he didn't fix it, and the Djoker proceeded to collapse again.
In Australia, Djokovic may have been helped by the natural antipathy he feels at being left out of that exclusive club of two - Federer and Nadal. Legions of fans appear to be at their disposal at all times and places, so much so that it wouldn't surprise me to see them one day walking on the shoulders of all their fans from the practice court to the club house without ever touching the ground. And Djokovic clearly had had enough. Aided by the camp mentality so obviously purported by his family, who just can't understand how it is everybody doesn't love their little boy as much as they do, when Djokovic saw the finish line in Melbourne, he ran through it, rather than pulling up at the end like at the US Open.
Does this mean that the end is nearer for the reign of the Great Roger Federer - of course, but this would have been true whether he won or lost in Australia - after all, one cannot expect him to be so dominant forever. And it is possible that Djokovic just may have finally done the one thing that other players who succumb to the impulse to beat the myth, can't do - he just went out and beat the player instead.
Maybe that's why Roger is trying so hard to explain away his bad results - maybe he has become too reliant on that myth. If that is the case, it is a problem that is easily fixed by hard work. If players have found solutions to the problems you present, find new problems. But if Roger Federer decides to go the other way - to keep doing the same thing and hope to get (in his case) the same results, I think he's dead wrong.
But what is more telling is not the fact that Djokovic choked those set points away, but the way Federer played those points - in fact, I think it's fitting to say that Federer's willingness to let his opponent self-destruct, rather than attack him in that moment was an indication that he recognized the power of his aura, and let it do its work. Now it's anyone's guess if he would have taken a different approach in the second set, had he lost that first, but because it wasn't broke, he didn't fix it, and the Djoker proceeded to collapse again.
In Australia, Djokovic may have been helped by the natural antipathy he feels at being left out of that exclusive club of two - Federer and Nadal. Legions of fans appear to be at their disposal at all times and places, so much so that it wouldn't surprise me to see them one day walking on the shoulders of all their fans from the practice court to the club house without ever touching the ground. And Djokovic clearly had had enough. Aided by the camp mentality so obviously purported by his family, who just can't understand how it is everybody doesn't love their little boy as much as they do, when Djokovic saw the finish line in Melbourne, he ran through it, rather than pulling up at the end like at the US Open.
Does this mean that the end is nearer for the reign of the Great Roger Federer - of course, but this would have been true whether he won or lost in Australia - after all, one cannot expect him to be so dominant forever. And it is possible that Djokovic just may have finally done the one thing that other players who succumb to the impulse to beat the myth, can't do - he just went out and beat the player instead.
Maybe that's why Roger is trying so hard to explain away his bad results - maybe he has become too reliant on that myth. If that is the case, it is a problem that is easily fixed by hard work. If players have found solutions to the problems you present, find new problems. But if Roger Federer decides to go the other way - to keep doing the same thing and hope to get (in his case) the same results, I think he's dead wrong.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The GOAT Debate
Disclaimer - if reading about the GOAT debate would be considered hazardous to your emotional well-being, please STOP READING THIS POST IMMEDIATELY.
I've been trolling the blogosphere lately getting into all manner of the GOAT debate. Let me tell you, there is something visceral about the debate that makes it the kind of thing that, if you want to enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner, you just don't bring up. The level of vitriol coming from debaters of many different perspectives on the topic is staggering. Having said that, I'm not going to pretend I don't understand why there is so much emotional invovlement in something as, in the grand scheme of things, benign as the GOAT. At its core, the emotion is really just a deep love of the game - and honestly I can't argue with that.
But apparently, in the course of forging one too many times into the breach, a few people have been more than mildly irritated with the "majors won" argument as the only measure of greatness we need to consider, the conviction with which I make it and the conviction with which I dispute all others measures argued. Like everyone else who debates the GOAT, obviously I do love the game. I play it, I watch it, and I study its history for no other reason than I love it. The majors constitute the backbone of the tradition in the game, and the tradition is the only thing that links current players with the history, and as a result, I believe we can compare players across the history of the game by counting majors won. It is an imperfect measure - I never said it wasn't - but so too are the crowned jewels of the game, but because we love it, we accept those limitations.
To argue that head to head record, or proficiency on multiple surfaces, or talent, or any other specific measure of greatness is more important than majors won strikes me as both revisionist and cynical. A little bit like when Lucy yanks the ball away from Charlie Brown at the moment he's about to kick it. Everyone involved in tennis, from the players to the fans and everyone in between, follows the majors because they are what everyone follows. At its core, the most basic argument for the tradition of the game is, indeed circular, but somehow, it doesn't make that argument any less compelling.
All these other measures of greatness are either (1) encompassed in winning majors, (2) subordinate in value to the majors, (3) a means to achieving majors or (4) completely arbitrary. As such, I don't think it makes any sense to bother with any other measure of greatness than majors won. But one of the arguments that I find the most pernicious is that somehow there is something wrong with seeking to identify a GOAT, or even the possibility that a GOAT can be determined.
I mean, if you follow tennis, and the game is even remotely important to you, then you obviously have no problem with determining mini-GOATs like the best player in a match, the best player at a tournament, the best player over the course of a year, and ironically, the best player in an ill-defined period of time so fashionably referred to these days as an "era". I have no clue what an era is, but if you do, and you accept there can be a best of it, isn't it just a little disingenuous to somehow conclude that for the ultimate era (all time) the best cannot be determined? Why is that? If you use the same tools used to determine all these other mini-GOATs, which you accept, what on earth is the problem with determining THE GOAT?
Of course, that's a big if - and strangely, it seems the only way to dispute the most obvious candidate for the GOAT, is to dispute the validity of the measure used to determine it. My question is, in exchange for what measures? What measures are superior to those measures which we know, accept and already use for nearly every other competitive evaluation in the game?
What I have tried to guard against more than anything, in arguing majors won as the best measure of greatness, is the introduction of measures of greatness that contradict those that are already established by the game's traditions, because doing so would do the one thing that, as a tennis fan, I admit I simply can't bear to do - invalidate precisely that which makes me love the game.
If that happens, then what the hell is the point? If you're wondering, that's why it's so important to me.
I've been trolling the blogosphere lately getting into all manner of the GOAT debate. Let me tell you, there is something visceral about the debate that makes it the kind of thing that, if you want to enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner, you just don't bring up. The level of vitriol coming from debaters of many different perspectives on the topic is staggering. Having said that, I'm not going to pretend I don't understand why there is so much emotional invovlement in something as, in the grand scheme of things, benign as the GOAT. At its core, the emotion is really just a deep love of the game - and honestly I can't argue with that.
But apparently, in the course of forging one too many times into the breach, a few people have been more than mildly irritated with the "majors won" argument as the only measure of greatness we need to consider, the conviction with which I make it and the conviction with which I dispute all others measures argued. Like everyone else who debates the GOAT, obviously I do love the game. I play it, I watch it, and I study its history for no other reason than I love it. The majors constitute the backbone of the tradition in the game, and the tradition is the only thing that links current players with the history, and as a result, I believe we can compare players across the history of the game by counting majors won. It is an imperfect measure - I never said it wasn't - but so too are the crowned jewels of the game, but because we love it, we accept those limitations.
To argue that head to head record, or proficiency on multiple surfaces, or talent, or any other specific measure of greatness is more important than majors won strikes me as both revisionist and cynical. A little bit like when Lucy yanks the ball away from Charlie Brown at the moment he's about to kick it. Everyone involved in tennis, from the players to the fans and everyone in between, follows the majors because they are what everyone follows. At its core, the most basic argument for the tradition of the game is, indeed circular, but somehow, it doesn't make that argument any less compelling.
All these other measures of greatness are either (1) encompassed in winning majors, (2) subordinate in value to the majors, (3) a means to achieving majors or (4) completely arbitrary. As such, I don't think it makes any sense to bother with any other measure of greatness than majors won. But one of the arguments that I find the most pernicious is that somehow there is something wrong with seeking to identify a GOAT, or even the possibility that a GOAT can be determined.
I mean, if you follow tennis, and the game is even remotely important to you, then you obviously have no problem with determining mini-GOATs like the best player in a match, the best player at a tournament, the best player over the course of a year, and ironically, the best player in an ill-defined period of time so fashionably referred to these days as an "era". I have no clue what an era is, but if you do, and you accept there can be a best of it, isn't it just a little disingenuous to somehow conclude that for the ultimate era (all time) the best cannot be determined? Why is that? If you use the same tools used to determine all these other mini-GOATs, which you accept, what on earth is the problem with determining THE GOAT?
Of course, that's a big if - and strangely, it seems the only way to dispute the most obvious candidate for the GOAT, is to dispute the validity of the measure used to determine it. My question is, in exchange for what measures? What measures are superior to those measures which we know, accept and already use for nearly every other competitive evaluation in the game?
What I have tried to guard against more than anything, in arguing majors won as the best measure of greatness, is the introduction of measures of greatness that contradict those that are already established by the game's traditions, because doing so would do the one thing that, as a tennis fan, I admit I simply can't bear to do - invalidate precisely that which makes me love the game.
If that happens, then what the hell is the point? If you're wondering, that's why it's so important to me.
Labels:
Federer,
GOAT,
Gonzales,
grand slam,
greatest of all time,
Laver,
majors,
Nadal,
open era,
slams
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