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.
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.
Posts
