WIMBLEDON 2016 - HISTORY BECKONS

The Championships at Wimbledon 2016, has the potential to be one of the most historic we've ever seen.  Novak Djokovic, and even Roger Federer, have the chance to extend their achievements beyond the wildest dreams of the kid who's just picked up a racquet and gapes to be the heir of these titans of tennis history.  While the curiosity surrounding their pursuits will most certainly overwhelm the entirety of this fortnight's media coverage, there may be a lot more interesting things at stake at SW19.

RETURN OF THE KING

Novak Djokovic has redefined the notion of the team concept in tennis:  while the depth of his support structure has altered significantly since his undeniable ascension to the top of the tennis pyramid, the breadth and depth of it continues to boggle the mind.  His parents have (with notable exception) receded into their proper place - that of the doting parents marveling at the exploits of their prodigious progeny from afar.  But in addition to his ever-growing dwindling list of celebrity sycophants, he has added a son and another 3-time champion Boris Becker, who at some point looked the more likely to equal or surpass the dominance of his similarly alliteratively named hero Bjorn Borg.  Though some (including this author) doubted the wisdom of that choice, Becker's ingenious re-engineering of his first serve placement, more obvious (but no less insightful and far more difficult) improvements in the second serve and his net play, have launched him into the stratosphere of just 6 other men with double digit major tallies (Federer, Sampras, Nadal, Borg, Laver and Emerson).

As such, the Serbian hero is poised to bring to fruition the notion of 4 separate but equally impressive historical achievements in just two weeks time.  First, he can become only the 4th man to three-peat at the All-England club in the Open era, following in the footsteps of Messrs Borg, Sampras and Federer.  Furthermore, by winning his 4th Wimbledon overall, he would separate himself from Roy Emerson as a 13-time major winner, one short of his former nemesis Rafael Nadal.  He would also, quietly, join Sampras, Federer and Borg as the only players to win at least 4 titles at two separate majors, and his would be a unique combination of Wimbledon and the Australian Open (where he has already joined Emerson as the only six-time champion, although his coming at a time when nobody skipped it).

But the real humdinger would be winning 5 major titles in a row, a feat which has never been accomplished in the Open era, and only once by another (oft forgotten) claimant to the GOAT accolade, the American Don Budge, who, in fact, won 6 in a row from Wimbledon 1937 to the same title in 1938.  Budge too, was halfway to a calendar slam, in 1938 when he repeated his Wimbledon triumph, as if Djokovic needed any additional motivation.  The pressure on him will be enormous on the day, if it comes to it, but for the moment, the only thing anyone seems to be concerned with is whether he can do the deed at Wimbledon.

If pressure is indeed a privilege, the smart money is the Djoker to kill about 5 historical birds with one almighty stone.

RETURN OF THE TITAN

While the prospect is altogether less likely, Roger Federer also has the chance to, once again, distinguish himself from all others who've deigned to whack fuzz as impressively as he has lo these many years.  An unprecedented 8th title would drive him past his historical nemesis, Sampras, into territory that has not only never been achieved in the open era, but wasn't accomplished even when the defending champion needed only one match to add to his tally of titles.  Since William Renshaw racked up 6 of his 7 titles by way of this...shortcut, the Challenge Round has been removed from the pages of Wimbledon history since 1922.  This conveniently predated the opening of French championships to international competition by 3 years, and is one of the many reasons why (de facto) professional tennis can only be considered to be 90 years old at the oldest.  Either way, 8 titles would be the most any man has achieved at the game's oldest and most coveted venue.

18 majors in total would extend the target which Nadal coveted, but in all likelihood (despite hasty proclamations to the contrary) will never achieve, but would still be pursued by Djokovic.  One more major doesn't sound like a lot, but just ask Nadal or Sampras, for that matter, if they would have liked one more to add to their totals...when Federer had 14, that is.  And at the other end of the spectrum, if Federer were to face Djokovic in the final, he would want to win also to avoid being the only player in the history of the game to lose the same major final 3 times in succession to the same player.  He already has a trifecta of futility to Nadal at Roland Garros from 2006 to 2008, and would want to avoid the same fate befalling him vis a vis Djokovic at Wimbledon from 2014 to 2016.

RETURN OF THE UNION JACK

Never in the history of the tennis, and possibly the world, has a Scotsman been so universally beloved and supported by so many Englishmen, as was Andy Murray when he won here in 2013 over the, now invincible but then uncertain, Novak Djokovic.  Back when the Djoker was just really good everywhere, Murray managed to beat him for the second time running at the All-England Club...of course, the first time he was wearing that lamentable

Union Jack inspired monstrosity of an outfit under the British flag at the London Olympics, but why quibble.  The point is, on-grass at least, he has repeatedly vanquished  MacBethovic, and appeared to have his number in general.  Murray had lost the Australian Open final in 2013 to the Djoker, and never figured to be a factor at Roland Garros, but putting together his US Open title in 2012, with his victory in the Olympics, the 2013 victory at SW19 had many outside the bubble of British sports hype believing that the light at the end of the tennis tunnel shone brightly for His Irascibleness.

If Murray could find a way to use the success he's experienced this year over his own personal Serbian storm cloud, who's never more than a moment away from ruining any of his major final days, he would be the first British player to win 2 singles titles at Wimbledon since 1936.  He'd still have one more title to match the inimitable Fred Perry, but the signs are good for Murray in this regard:  he has dropped the deadweight of Amelie Mauresmo from his entourage, a coach who did almost nothing for his game since she was hired, suspended, unsuspended, and finally fired, (ironically) just prior to his (ironic) run to the final at Roland Garros.  He has rejoined his personal sensei, Ivan Lendl, the man who was almost single-handedly responsible for making the necessary alterations to his game to win (both) the major (and sort of major) titles he did manage to win.  And once England are eliminated from the 2016 Euros (I mean...let's be honest), the focus of the nation will once again fall on his shoulders.

But unlike his (truly and pseudo British) compatriots before him, Murray will not only need all the attention he gets, it is my assumption that he will, under the circumstances, thrive with it.

RETURN OF THE REST

Nick Kyrigos would be the first Australian winner at Wimbledon in 15 years, Milos Raonic would be the first Canadian winner ever, Grigor Dimitrov (yes, Grigor Dimitrov) would be the first major winner born in the last decade of the previous millenium, Kei Nishikori the first Japanese major winner ever, and Alexander Zverev the first German (by way of Russia) teenager to win for 20 years since some giraffe-eye-lashed, red-headed, Bavaria albino named Boris...whoever that is.  Now, it is a tall order, and because the odds would (and should) be so remote, it may be worth plunking 10'er on Jack Sock becoming the first American to win Wimbledon since...wait for it...2001!  Aside from one shining moment of lunacy in 2003, when Andy Roddick bazooka'd his way through the draw at Flushing Meadow, Sock would also be the first American to win any majors in 13 years.

Of the modern Mousquetaires, Tsonga, Gasquet, Simon or (the altogether unlikely) Monfils would be the first French major winner since 1983 and the first winner at Wimbledon since (not any of original Mouquetaires, but the unheralded and forgotten) Yvon Patra.  A Frenchman, born in the colony of Vietnam, Patra was a prisoner of war before winning 3 french national titles in succession (played at Roland Garros, but apparently with only European francophiles in the field) after his release, before becoming, in 1946, the last man to win at Wimbledon in long trousers (the warm-ups don't count, Roger).

So if either Sock, Kyrigos or one of the 4 horsemen of the French tennis apocalypse can figure out a way to overcome their historical burdens, perhaps the biggest return to major glory would be for three of the four countries that host majors, but seem to have forgotten how to produce major champions.

THE KEY TO WIMBLEDON? NEWSFLASH: IT'S NOT THE SERVE

Is there a key success factor on grass, and if so, what is it?  I say everyone's serve is better on grass, so that's not the key success factor - that's a myth.

It's the return.

Recently Rafael Nadal opined that "If your serve is good, you can win on grass even without playing your best."  The missing context is that he was clearly explaining how he had won his first tournament on grass without much preparation and without much of a good run of form to speak of leading into the tournament.  But not surprisingly it kicked off an extended debate in the blogosphere about the validity of results on grass, because of the influence of the serve.

I think what Nadal implied (without really meaning to) is that you can lose a match - any match - on grass to a player who serves exceptionally well on the day, and he's right.  That's one of the reasons why Wimbledon is so hard to win:  because you can so easily lose any single match if you have a bad day and your opponent (no matter who he is) serves his socks off.  But unlike what was immediately interpreted as a dig at grass court tennis (something that Nadal, who has always professed his love of Wimbledon and grass court tennis, would never do), you really can't win Wimbledon with just a big serve.

That is just a myth.

The universe of players who have won Wimbledon is much smaller than other majors, and it does not necessarily reflect players with the biggest serve. Serving well (and not necessarily big) like Federer and Sampras helps a great deal, but you have to serve well, not just big.  In fact, I think the reason why Federer and Sampras have won so many Wimbledons, and why the universe of champions at Wimbledon is smaller than the other majors, is precisely because the serve is not the deciding factor in whether you can win it.  Take the following statistics:

# of different FO champions in the open era = 26
# of different Wimbledon champions in the open era = 20

# of different FO champions in the last 20 years = 12
# of different Wimbledon champions in the last 20 years = 8

I don't mean to denigrate Roland Garros, but just as the universe of players who have won 250's is greater than those who have won 500's which is greater than those who have won 1000's which is greater than those who have won majors, the derived conclusion is that the harder it is to win the tournament, the smaller the universe of players who actually do it.  So, by this logic, that the universe of players who have won the FO is greater than the universe of players who have won Wimbledon would suggest that Wimbledon is harder to win.  If you doubt this conclusion, you must accept the opposite:  that the 250's are the hardest to win, and that just doesn't fly.

The reason the 500s are harder than 250s is that the field is typically stronger, because there are more points at stake, and they are more coveted. That is precisely the point of the comparison, and transitively the comparison carries through to each level of more and more coveted titles, including comparing the majors.  Again, no denigration of the the tournaments that lose out in the comparison, but merely a logical conclusion from the evidence of the universe of players who've won the title.

Now, because Federer and Sampras have such great serves, the assumption is that the better your serve, the more likely you are to win Wimbledon.  As such, when sizing up a player's chances, or predicting the result of a particular match, the serves are frequently compared to determine who has the advantage.  But I am of the opinion that comparing serves is actually off the mark.  You are mixing and matching two things - one doesn't compare serves - that is irrelevant because only one player at a time serves. One compares the serve of one to the return of the other. A player with a big serve can escape losses to other players with big serves if they return well.  It is rare that players with really big serves return well, and also why players with just big serves (and little else to their game) rarely win Wimbledon.

Goran Ivanisevic is a perfect example - that man had the biggest and best serve in the history of tennis, but he won Wimbledon exactly once almost by accident.  In his best chance (on paper anyway), in 1992 he lost to Andre Agassi, a player with a relatively weak serve but a relatively oustanding return (who happened to beat Boris Becker and John McEnroe along the way - not exactly slouches in the serve department).  Ivanisevic's other Wimbledon final losses were to another player with a great serve - Pete Sampras.  So what distinguished the two?

The return - Sampras' was a better (as well as the rest of his game - but I digress).

So a big serve gets you a chance to win a match or two here or there - but if you want to win Wimbledon, you need more than a big serve. You need the whole package including a good serve.  But only the best of the best have the whole package, and as such, relatively few players have won Wimbledon as compared to say, the French Open, where a lot of players that did not have the full package, have won relatively more titles than have done so at a Wimbledon.

The logic and the stats on the universe of players who have won Wimbledon versus Roland Garros is very underrated, but it is not a matter of opinion.  As for the effect of the serve on grass, it is inversely overrated - Nadal has 2 Wimbledons, Djokovic 2, Murray 1, even Federer at 7 titles...not one of them could be said to have one of the biggest serves on tour, earning a lot of "cheap" points. Roddick had a huge serve, but consistently lost to players who returned better than him (after all, so few serve better than him they must have had better returns). Ivanisevic had the biggest serve ever and he won once, each time he lost to a player, not with a better serve, but a better return.

To win at Wimbledon you need a good serve among many things, but it is not the deciding factor - the return is.  Of course, even a good return (alone) isn't enough - you need the full package. You have to be able to attack and defend, you need decent volleys, but most importantly you need a good serve, because everybody gets a little help on the serve on grass. That the serve is the deciding factor to winning Wimbledon is a myth of grass court tennis that has persisted for years since the late 40's when serve and volley tennis became a full time tactical approach. There have been a lot of players with great serves who have not won Wimbledon, but almost none with bad returns, and certainly no multiple champions with a poor return of serve.

An example of this is Ivan Lendl - his biggest problem on grass wasn't his serve (which was excellent) it was his return, which he was never able to master on grass, despite years of trying. Lendl just wasn't that talented, and as a result he needed time and a certain bounce to return well, which he would get on clay or hard courts, and won many majors on those surfaces - what foiled him on grass was the return.  Lendl's talent limited his return against the best players with the best serves - this is not an on/off proposition as in "either you're talented enough or not" - it does depend on the guy across the net. He had as good a serve as the players he lost to, with perhaps the exception of Becker, but he lost to a lot more players than Becker, his problem against those players he lost to was that he couldn't make any headway in his returns.  His own serve was excellent.  Just because your return isn't good enough against Edberg, Becker and Pat Cash, doesn't mean it won't be good enough against Jeff Tarango or Brad Gilbert.

Go down the list of players with the biggest serves on tour over the last 40 years and remove those players with good returns (Colin Dibley, Ivan Ljubicic, Steven Denton, Mark Phillipousis, Kevin Curren, Bobo Zivojinovic, Greg Rusedski, Ivo Karlovic, Roscoe Tanner, Andy Roddick) and you'll have a very long list of players with big serves who have never won Wimbledon.  Now, do the reverse - list the players with the best returns in the game, remove those with great serves and you'll still have a list of players who have won Wimbledon (Agassi, Borg, Connors, Nadal, Murray, Djokovic, etc.).  That's just good analysis that dispels the myth that the deciding factor in winning Wimbledon is the serve.  Remember that on grass everybody's serve is a little more effective because of the surface, therefore getting an edge over the field would necessarily come from being able to neutralize that phenomenon, not from benefitting from it, which everyone does and which does not give you an edge.

Whether the return is harder to master or acquire is not relevant - it is whether having an outstanding return or an outstanding serve is the deciding factor in whether you will win Wimbledon.  Nadal, Murray, Djokovic, even Federer to some extent, rarely lead the ATP in aces, 1st percentage won or even service games won - and if they do, it isn't because they get a lot of free points on the serves like the Karlovic's, Isners, Lopez's, Tsonga's, Almagro's and Raonics of the world. They may use their serve better than this lot, but that's because they're better tennis players that are able to do more with less (on the serve). What they all do better than that lot is return of serve, and they've all won Wimbledon in the last 10 years - 3 of them more than once.

Counter-intuitive, I know, but true.

In fact, I'll go you one better - I don't even think it's even critical to have a great serve, to win Wimbledon, because there a lot of players who had just good serves and still won - therefore the serve cannot be the deciding factor in whether you will win Wimbledon.  What Nadal referred to with the big serves is really a reference to the risk a great player runs of being dumped out of the tournament by a guy serving his socks off for one day, but without much of an overall game. That kind of player can be a spoiler, and there are a lot of spoilers at Wimbledon, and from that I conclude (along with the universe of players argument) that that's one big reason why Wimbledon is harder to win than the other majors.  Particularly on grass, where everyone's serve is helped by the surface, there is a greater risk that a spoiler that can serve you off the court in one match.

That doesn't happen as often on other surfaces because the serve doesn't have as big effect - and that is the reason why at Wimbledon a great return is more important than a great serve.  Because if you can't efficiently take advantage of the few opportunities you get to break serve (attack second serves, attack poorly placed first serves, or just get your racquet on the ball a lot), you will eventually run into someone who serves you off the court. The truly great players (among other things) have great returns, so they survive the serving mine field that is grass court tennis better than the other (numerous) players with great serves, but a minimal/weak return game - hence the cream really rises to the top at Wimbledon.

Sampras rarely served above 125mph, even at his best - there were always players on tour with bigger serves, but none with better serves - he used his to great effect. And it helps to use a great serve to great effect if you have the game to back it up, which Rusedski, Roddick, Ljubicic, Phillipousis, Ivanisevic and oh so many other big serving contemporaries did not have - and a big part of that overall game to back up whatever serve you may possess (good to great) is the return of serve.  Federer also rarely serves big (130+), but his placement is outstanding, and nobody uses the serve to set up their game better than Federer - of course it helps that his game is outstanding, but the point is that it's not all down to the serve.

Riddle me this - why is it that Federer was so frequently able to out ace Roddick at Wimbledon when they played?  Because his return was better, not because his serve was.  And if I'm not mistaken, McEnroe never hit a serve over 120mph in his career, not so of the Roscoe Tanners and Kevin Curren's of his era - their serves were huge even by modern standards. But his overall game (including the return) was superior to both of those players, and as such he had more success at Wimbledon.

In fact, two of the biggest modern servers gave us an example in 2010 that put this distinction in relief:  that absurd farce of a match between John Isner and Nicolas Mahut where the 5th set had 138 games in it, where it took Isner 69 games to break Mahut's serves.

Does anyone think that any of the players who've won Wimbledon in the last 10 years would take 69 games to break anyone's serve, let alone Nicolas Mahut's? Neither Isner nor Mahut have much of a return game to speak of, and not coincidentally neither has ever done anything significant at Wimbledon other than that match. They may win matches and/or smaller tournaments with depleted fields, but when the best of the best are all there, they just can't serve their way to glory - eventually their inability to return well catches up to them. That's not the case with the best players in the world. That's why only the best players in history win Wimbledon. And that's why Wimbledon is the hardest tournament to win.

And what of poor old Andy Roddick - the argument is that had it not been for Federer, he would have won 4 Wimbledons, right?  I'm not so sure about that - after all, he lost to a lot more players at Wimbledon than just Roger Federer, and that Federer is a better player is a general statement which provides no insight - the better player doesn't always win (if that were the case, the trophy could be handed out at the draw).  On grass, Federer bested Roddick as frequently as he did because he neutralized his serve with a great return of serve, which Roddick could never do.  That was the deciding factor between them, not either of their serves which were both outstanding.


That's not to say that Federer's serve isn't really good - just not the equal of Roddick's - better game, obviously (especially the return) - but not the serve.  But let's set that debatable example aside...can the serve possibly explain his losses to Murray (2006), Gasquet (2007), Randy Lu (2010), Tipsarevic (2008), Lopez (2011), Ferrer (2012)?  Maybe Ivanisevic (2001), but that entire tournament was the outlier - he also lost to Rusedski in 2002, but in both matches to equally dominant serving players, the telling factor was the return - Rusedski broke Roddick 3 times 2002 and Ivanisevic twice in 2001...but he never broke either of them. And equally telling of Rusedski - he lost in the very next round....to Xavier Malisse. Now I can tell you that there were about 25 things Malisse did better than Rusedski, but the serve wasn't one of them - and if there were every a place where Rusedski should have put his serve to use against Malisse (if it were key) it would have been at Wimbledon.  But surprise, surprise, Malisse broke Rusedski 3 times to 2.

To be honest, I watched Roddick play tennis for 10 years, and I can't ever remember him serving poorly - he may have, but it would have been exceedingly rare.  It was the one part of his game that never broke down.  But I have seen a lot of guys get a beat on his serve in one game and the rest of his game fell apart.  He himself rarely broke serve on grass, precisely because it is so hard to do.

I should also point out something that is a logical extension of the "it's the return, stupid" argument:  the better players have better returns of serve precisely because it requires more talent to consistently respond well to the easiest shot in the game to produce - i.e. the serve. For a good return you need particularly good hand-eye coordination, anticipation, consistent strike zone, balance, quickness, footwork, etc.). So a relative donkey, like Lukas Rosol can beat a great player from his serve, here and there, but win the tournament, no chance - not without a great return. There are a lot more players out there with great serves than players with great returns of serve - and it's no coincidence that they tend to do most of the winning. That's because it's harder to do than serve well, and as such it is a more telling factor in who wins the tournament - particularly on grass where the serve is helped so much by the surface, and everyone looks like a world beater with their serve - by the same token, only the best of the best appear to have even decent returns on grass.

My point here is that I'm trying to dispel the myth that the serve is the key/critical/deciding success factor on grass - it's not at all, it's the return. Some would limit their agreement if (and only if ) the serves are equal, but the serves are rarely equal and frequently the player with the better serve loses to the player with the better return. Therefore, it's pretty clear that the return is the key success factor and not the serve - of course your return has to be pretty good to beat a player with a great serve, especially on grass...but that's more to my point of why so few players have what it takes to win Wimbledon.

We've all fallen prey to the blurring of the lines defining the quality of the serve - if there is such a thing as a good serve, there must logically be great serves and below average serves - let's not lump everyone into sufficient/good/great serving category, cite Wimbledon champions (none of whom have a poor serve) and then claim that the key factor is something that they share in common with 90% of professional tennis players.

A key success factor is something that distinguishes players who've had success from those who have not. To point to the serve, which a large portion of players who have not won Wimbledon, and likely will never win, isn't informative. The return, however, is very probative. I happen to think that while the serve is the easiest stroke in tennis, because it's ball in hand, the return might be the hardest (because you must use a broad range of skills to respond to the easiest stroke in the game to hit at you), and by this logic, I am of the belief that the return, particularly at Wimbledon, where even the worst serves in tennis get a lot of help, is the most important stroke to winning the tournament.

FEDERER'S HIGH ONE-HANDED BACKHAND PROBLEM

This is the story of two Swiss players - each with a 1-handed backhand who played the same player at the same tournament with two very different results.  Considering their all-time pedigree, a casual (and ill-informed) initial assessment would conclude that Federer's backhand ought to have less trouble than Wawrinka's, with the high bouncing, left pulling, heavy spinning forehand of Rafael Nadal.

In fact, the opposite is the case.

While Federer continues to have problems dictating points because of this idiosyncrasy, Wawrinka seems not to have the same, and this is not merely manifested by the results of the 2014 Australian Open.  Despite never previously taking a set off of Nadal, Wawrinka has really never had a backhand problem with Nadal - he has other problems, and one could argue that so does Federer...but it's useful to analyze the backhand, as this is clearly problematic for one, but not the other.

Now, I should point out that as often as the high 1-handed backhand problem is cited as a problem for Federer, the two-handed backhand is proposed as the solution, and as a result, the assumption is made that because Federer is the foremost exponent of the 1-handed backhand in the history of the game, its future is necessarily as dead as his recent record against Nadal.  After all, who would want to expose themselves to this seemingly insurmountable obstacle?  

But an analysis of the fundamentals of a backhand would do much to identify why Wawrinka's backhand is superior to Federer's and may very well be the best backhand in the world.  First the fundamentals:  a good backhand starts with:

1. A closed shoulder on take back
2. A point of contact in front and at waist level
3. A strong but controlled step into the court upon contact
4. A smooth and controlled shoulder turn through the point of contact
5. A racquet head that starts below the ball, but flows through it on contact
6. A finish out in front, where the body weight is balanced neither leaning too far forward or back (and just like after a good serve, the player should be able to immediately address the next shot).

Now if you have a 2-handed backhand, items #1, #3, #4 and #6 are taken care of without much extra required - it's almost impossible to not to close the shoulders on take back, and because your reach is shorter it's rare that reach for the ball with just your arms.  The shoulder turn is controlled because both shoulders are necessarily involved in the stroke production and with two hands the finish is almost never above the head.

And you can get away with being a little fuzzy with your point of contact because that primarily goes to racquet head stability, which is the whole point of the second hand on the racquet.  Most 2-handed backhands are flatter (think David Ferrer and Andy Murray) because the second hand allows you to stabilize the racquet head and still hit through the ball, so you don't have to sacrifice any pace for spin by brushing up against the back of the ball.

Now, as far as the fundamentals are concerned, the 1-handed backhand has little to no margin.  Both Federer and Wawrinka turn the shoulders well on the take back; most professionals do.  You see this more with club players who reach across their chest on the take back. The exception is when a 1-handed player is stretched, they often switch to a slice or are forced to flick the racquet head through the point of contact. With the flick, because everything is accelerated, the hand-eye coordination required to get the timing right is typically reserved for the most talented players.  Think Federer and Dimitrov flicking running backhands down the line.  It as beautiful to behold as it is rare.

But the first place Federer and Wawrinka differ is making their point of contact at waist level - primarily from a high looping shot that moves through their strike zone.  With Nadal's forehand, for example, as the ball arrives, rather than being at the apex of its arch in the strike zone (thus in a kind of mid-air suspension, like the top of the serve toss) it is, in fact, still moving in three dimensions - (1) up into your chest, (2) towards you and (3) to the left.

We have already discussed how the timing has to be very precise on the 1-hander because your racquet head stability is limited to what you can create with one hand, but with movement in three dimensions, the premium on timing is almost insurmountable. Taller players like Dimitrov or Daniel Brands, whose waists are considerably higher than even slightly shorter players (because most of one's height is in the legs) struggle less because the ball stays closer to their optimal strike zone.  Also, most players concede the baseline and play yards behind it, unlike what Federer tried to do, and like what Wawrinka successfully did, against Nadal.

So average height, aggressive players like Federer and Wawrinka must adjust, and they basically have three options in how to handle this corkscrew of a shot.

The first alternative is just try to hit the backhand at shoulder height.  This forces them to finish the stroke above the head, which is a problem when you need spin to control that shot (and Federer really does).  Spin is generated by going from low to high before and after the point of contact, and it's easy to get low on a high backhand, but very hard to finish high. Furthermore, if you finish too high, you lose forward momentum, pace and control. Often the player looks like he's performing a pantomime of a backhand, with the finish high above and even behind his head.  And doesn't that sound exactly like what Federer's backhand looks like against Nadal?

But what about Wawrinka? 

His natural backhand finishes further out in front of him than Federer's does, so if he takes the backhand high, whereas Federer's naturally high finish is hard to duplicate, Wawrinka's backhand can finish going through the point of contact even on a high backhand.  This is why he is able to generate more pace than his more illustrious countryman, because his fundamentals are better - I know, it's hard to believe that a backhand as aesthetically appealing as Federer's is fundamentally flawed, but in this particular regard, it is.

The second alternative to handle the high backhand is to step back and wait for the ball to fall into the strike zone, but this is problematic for 3 reasons:

First, by moving back you concede the forecourt which makes it more difficult to control and finish the point with subsequent shots.  This is a problem Federer has particularly on clay, compounded by his own looping backhand, which lacks the flat trajectory of Wawrinka's and by the time his ball reaches Nadal it now has even less power because it was hit from further behind the baseline.

Second, to be able to come forward through the stroke you have to move back beyond the point of contact, and step into it. This is easier if you set up a little further behind the baseline, like Wawrinka, or even further for most clay court specialists with one-handed backhands (e.g. Carlos Berlocq).  They often set up shop 8-10 feet beyond the baseline as their default court positioning.  But with this approach, you'll have to defend better...much better...like "Nadal" better.  

Good luck with that.

If you don't like to concede the baseline you'll typically move only as far back as the point of contact, but then all your momentum is moving backwards when you hit the ball, and this is a problem Federer has on all surfaces against Nadal, but particularly on hard courts, where he is even more reticent to conceded the baseline.

And third, waiting for the ball to drop into the strike zone does nothing to mitigate the problem of the ball moving in two dimensions - only this time the ball is moving down and towards you rather than up and towards you. Most good 1-handed backhanders would prefer this to the ball coming up, towards them, but it's still harder than a ball that apexes right in the strike zone and stays there just waiting to get belted.  1-handers just love that.

The third alternative to handling the high 1-hander is the most effective solution, it is ironically technically the easiest to do, but by far it is the most difficult tactically.  To hit your most natural 1-handed backhand on a heavy spinning ball you can step into the court and catch it on the rise.  Doing so will keep the ball in your strike zone, thereby maximizing your racquet head stability - after all, just try keeping the racquet above your shoulder or at your waist for 3 minutes straight and you'll see which is easiest.

The second advantage to taking it on the rise is that, with very little effort, you use the pace of the ball coming to you most efficiently when it has the most energy on the way up - like a drop kick in football - and thus you can keep your shot deep with spin, without much risk.  

Of course the risk increases exponentially the harder you try to hit the ball, because everything is accelerated, and the timing has to be just right - so typically only the most talented of players, with the best hand-eye coordination, can do this consistently.  But technically it is easier to do this than hit the shot at shoulder height, or move back and wait for it.  Also, because you're already moving forward to take it on the rise, you are already moving forward through the stroke, which is always good for power and direction.

Now Federer is extremely talented - moreso than Wawrinka - and he has very consistent technique - he rarely improvises if he doesn't have to, and when he does he makes it look easy.  And because tactically he doesn't like to concede the baseline/forecourt, this would seem to be his optimal solution - we've all marveled at how easy he makes it look.

So why the bloody hell doesn't he do this all the time?  Well, in the words of Hamlet, "...there's the rub."

Nadal's ball is different than anyone else's ball in tennis. Nadal employs the reverse forehand more often, and puts more spin on his shots on average, than any player in the history of tennis.  Measured  years ago when he was still using natural gut strings (he has since switched to one of the "poly-est" of polyester strings) his RPM averaged 3200 (vs 2400 for Federer and 1800 for the rest of the field) and maxed out at a whopping 5400 - I mean that's just absurd.

Because of this, Nadal is not only able to hit harder, but he is also able to hit shorter in the court, and as a result, to take the ball on the rise, you'd have to be literally 2-3 feet inside the baseline to make this work on every backhand you hit.  And it follows that'd you have to be 2-3 feet inside the baseline on the forehand as well, because moving back, forward, left and right between every shot is impossible even for a player who moves as efficiently as Federer, and especially against Nadal.

But Wawrinka has options that Federer does not.  If he takes the backhand on the rise, because his natural stroke is flatter and more relaxed, he is better able to handle the pace and coincidentally hit with more pace and depth himself.  As a result, the ball coming to Nadal pushes him further and further back, reducing his ability to impose his will on his next shot, causing his next shots to land shorter and shorter.  Then Wawrinka's next backhand is more likely to be in his optimal strike zone and he can really belt it - either safely cross court, or tactically more risky (but because he's into the court and moving forward technically less risky) backhand up the line.

That too is a thing of beauty if you've ever seen his.

This forces Nadal to hit deeper, which ironically makes it easier for Wawrinka to half-volley it safely back - in fact this is, in some ways, an easier shot. It's only on clay that you'll ever see Wawrinka consistently back up to hit his backhand, and obviously his results against Nadal, while generally very bad, are even worse on clay because of this (this despite winning Roland Garros Juniors in 2003, BTW).  Furthermore, Nadal has always had problems with hard flat shots into his forehand - this is probably due to being a natural right hander, and manifests in his (over)use of the reverse forehand, and only exacerbated by the hardest flattest shots into that side. Cue the Wawrinka backhand, but as for Federer's?

Fuhgedabouddit!

So if he doesn't have this high 1-handed backhand problem, why has Wawrinka had so much trouble against Nadal in the past?  Aside from the obvious - that he's no Roger Federer - there are some other changes he's made which has helped him more now than in the past.

First, he changed racquets, facilitating improvements in his forehand, which always suffered from an imbalance of power and spin - in the past, too much spin. These days, his forehand is almost as good as his backhand. Second, he's fitter which facilitates his movement, allowing him to position himself better on all shots. Third, his volleys, while they've never been great, are better now than they have been - and this allows him to take fewer cuts at his (still at times) shaky forehand. Now he can come forward to the net more and finish his points earlier.

But Federer's backhand doesn't allow him to impact Nadal the way Wawrinka's does, and thus in this particular match up, it is more difficult for him to get into position to control, set up and kill points...and remind us of just how good he really is.  In fact, against Nadal, the closer he gets to 20 strokes in the rally, and the more often he does so, the worse it is for him. Not necessarily the case with Djokovic and Murray who defend better than Federer, and can more easily take the backhand on the rise, with that second hand.

Now I'm not saying that Wawrinka is all of a sudden going to dominate Nadal - to the contrary, I don't think that will happen at all, because there's a lot more to Nadal than just a high looping forehand.  But if you're looking for a solution to Federer's high 1-handed backhand problem against Nadal, you need look no further than his Davis Cup teammate. 

Whether he can or will, at this point in his career, make the necessary adjustments, is an altogether different proposition.

ADDENDUM:

I found an excellent instructional clip here that goes into very specific detail about what Wawrinka does differently from other players on the one-handed backhand, and why his is consistently hit with more power and spin than any of his contemporaries.   There are segments of the blogosphere that resist the notion that any player on earth could have a 1-handed backhand that is superior to Roger Federer's.  But this clip is an objective analysis showing that the hip/core rotation (which you can accomplish by a pronounced step into the court, with the lead foot pointing towards the target, rather than directly across the body) is more pronounced than anyone.

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 the 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 two tactical hemispheres 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 are 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 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.

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 Stanislas 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 it could be argued that 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".

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 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, it's hardly laudatory.  And 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).  So one could hardly argue that he played like "many other players on tour" - after all, had many others on tour won two Masters 1000's that year? 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!

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 prodded 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 trying to instill confidence in, their son - all parents would, under the circumstances.  But who would do it so publicly, and so brashly? 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 be the 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 & 1/2 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 have been a factor against sweet little Nole? 

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?", a begrudging, if not defiant swipe at the mark (indicating that it had indeed hit the line), a continued glare in their direction, as he lined himself up for a replay of the point and sado-masochistically bludgeoning 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 an unseen 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 spring.

Of the incident where he told the Djokovic's to shut it - 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 retired, not only the match, but the first major title he was defending.

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 one, Djokovic had in fact done just that - leading two sets to one, against Nikolay Davydenko (the other oft derided retiree), in a Davis Cup match in February of 2008 Djokovic retired with a fever.

Yes, a fever.

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 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).  Come to think of it, Federer had some pretty harsh things to say about Nadal & Co. at that time as well, so maybe his reaction to losing to Djokovic, and the context thereof, was not dissimilar to his reaction to losing to Nadal, and the context thereof.

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 game's 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 immoveable 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 cool 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 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 to, 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 (to say nothing of that primal roar). 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 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.

ADDENDUM Flushing Meadow 2011

Most remember this match as a stunning affirmation of Djokovic's renewed mental strength - affirmed by the fact that despite finding himself down two sets to love, he somehow conjured up the character to fight his way back to 2 sets all with some outstanding play. Actually Djokovic had told anyone who would listen that it had all been in his head, that the main component of his success was a previously absent belief in himself.

But Federer begged to differ.

When asked about it in his press conference following the match, Federer dismissed this assertion and lobbed in a less than laudatory assessment of Djokovic's performance at the end of the match - if you read carefully, he actually asserts that Djokovic won BECAUSE he gave up, and as a RESULT of giving up, hit a lucky shot that cost Federer HIS match:

"QUESTION: Could you hit a much better serve for the return he hit that winner?

ROGER FEDERER: Yeah, much better. I didn't hit the best serve. But it's just the way he returns that. It's just not -- a guy who believes much, you know, anymore in winning. Then to lose against someone like that, it's very disappointing, because you feel like he was mentally out of it already.  Just gets the lucky shot at the end, and off you go."

Now just reading that, you may be left with the impression that this was a one off response, and it's been taken out of context - maybe so, but take at look at this next question and answer:

"QUESTION: When a guy hits a shot like that forehand on match point, is that a function of luck, of risk, or is it a function of confidence that someone would make kind of... 

ROGER FEDERER: Confidence? Are you kidding me? I mean, please.  Look, some players grow up and play like that. I remember losing junior matches. Just being down 5-2 in the third, and they all just start slapping shots. It all goes in for some reason, because that's the kind of way they grew up playing when they were down. I never played that way. I believe in hard work's gonna pay off kinda thing, because early on maybe I didn't always work at my hardest. So for me, this is very hard to understand how can you play a shot like that on match point. But, look, maybe he's been doing it for 20 years, so for him it was very normal. You've got to ask him."

Maybe he was more upset at the question, than he was at Djokovic, or even himself, but can you imagine how Djokovic would feel if he heard/read that?  

Lucky shots?  Like they do in the juniors?

I BELIEVE IN 'HARD WORK'S GONNA PAY OFF'?

I don't know about you, but if I gave a damn about earning anyone's respect, I wouldn't take a shining to being compared to a junior, that hit lucky shots and intimating that I hadn't worked hard, or earned the victory?  I mean, what's a guy gotta do to get any respect?