10 Gifts from '07

I was flipping through my trusty 2007 Official Guide to Professional Tennis, better known as the “media guide,” one afternoon last week—everyone has to have their fun, right?—and accidentally came across a description of the Next Generation Adelaide International tournament. An image of Novak Djokovic in a red shirt making a speech during the trophy presentation in Adelaide popped into my head. I remembered being surprised at the time by how personable and gracious he was. Then it hit me: That was this year! It seemed impossible, so I checked it on the ATP’s web site. There was the photo of Djokovic holding the winner’s plate in Adelaide in January 2007; I even had the red shirt right. How far Nole would travel in the next 12 months!

What I’m trying to say is hardly news to anyone here: The tennis season is long. With all the travel, the various playing surfaces, and the mini-tours that lead-up to each Slam, it can seem like more like two or three or four seasons in one. As Boris Becker once said, a tennis player’s life should be measured in dog years. Djokovic’s long journey up the rankings and onto the media’s radar in 2007 is testimony to that.

You know about the downsides of an 11-month season. But let’s look on the bright side: It gives tennis writers and fans plenty of stories, moments, and matches to choose from when they make up their year-end Top 10 lists. Isn’t that worth a few injuries and burnout cases?

Casting my mind back over the season, I had a few more “did that really happen this year?” revelations. Did someone named Fernando Gonzalez actually crush his way to the Aussie Open final? Did the U.S. win a Davis Cup tie on clay? Did Xavier Malisse win two titles (he did, just in case it slipped your mind, in Chennai and Delray)? There were plenty of moments I won’t forget from 2007, and thousands that I already have. But here are the 10 I thought most worthy of going into Concrete Elbow’s personal historical record.

Some were big events, others personal favorites—it’s unlikely you’ll agree with, or even remember, my Andy Roddick choices. The only unifying theme was that they were highlights of my season as a fan. This may seem like an odd thing to say at a time when the relationship between the individual fan and his or her favorite sport has been downgraded, if not demolished. At this point, every move by every athlete is analyzed to tiny, pointless bits by an army of blowhard pundits seven days a week (not including CE, of course). Does today’s defenseless fan, out there alone against the forces of ESPN, still stand a chance of forming a unique response to a sporting event?

These are my individual responses from the 2007 tennis season. If you can cast your mind back that far, I encourage you to let us know a few of yours. The more obscure, the better.

10. Pete Sampras Teaches History

Like the ghost of tennis greats past, Sampras materialized at season’s end for three days and reminded us that he could play a little ball, not just in his day, but here and now. Balder and bigger than I remembered, the 36-year-old looked like a dad out at the public park trying to face down Roger Federer. Until he served, that is. One glimpse of that effortlessly snappy motion and its brutal result was enough to bring back 1990s tennis in all of its sporadic glory. And yes, its tedium as well—Pete still doesn’t play what I’d call an entertaining game.

In fact, his style seemed hard to believe. Here was a guy who wouldn’t let Federer get into a rally, let alone dictate one. The combination of Sampras’ serve and go-for-broke attack threw the world No. 1 off at times and made their exhibitions more competitive than anyone would have thought possible. In the process, Sampras showed us what today’s players aren’t doing against Federer, and made me think twice about handing Fed the Goat crown just yet.

9. James Blake Wins a Big One

It didn’t happen until his last match of the season, but Blake finally followed up his breakthrough 2006 with an important win. It came on the first Friday of the Davis Cup final between the U.S. and Russia. Blake was the question mark of the tie; even Andy Roddick, after his win earlier that day, begged the Portland crowd to help get his teammate past Russia’s Mikhail Youzhny. Blake, who had failed in this situation many times before for the U.S. team—he lost to Youzhny in the Davis Cup semis in Moscow last year—didn’t play the match of his life. But maybe what’s important is that he learned that he didn’t need to.

The American has been guilty of going for too much in the clutch, and he didn’t exactly hold back this time. In the end, though, he fought off a determined rally from Youzhny by keeping the ball in play and letting the Russian take his own turn at self-destruction in a fourth-set tiebreaker. The win doesn’t mean career redemption for Blake—there will be more disappointments in big matches—but it helped give the U.S. team a well-earned and long-delayed chance to celebrate a defining accomplishment for their generation.

8. The Vitches Take Paris

No matter what you thought of Justine Henin, Maria Sharapova, or the Williams sisters as individual players and divas, there was a sense at the start of 2007 that the WTA was in dire need of new blood at the top of the sport. The only sure-fire star to emerge this decade had been Sharapova. Did we get another in 2007? Not quite, but we did see the collective ascent of a younger generation of ladies-in-waiting.

Most prominent among them were two Serbs, Jelena Jankovic and Ana Ivanovic, who finished the season No. 3 and No. 4, respectively, both career highs. They made their biggest splash at the French Open, where Jankovic beat Venus Williams to reach the semifinals (where she was soundly thrashed by Henin) and Ivanovic hammered Sharapova to make the final (where she was soundly thrashed by Henin).

In Paris, Ivanovic was bubbly off court and bruising on it. She harnessed the effortless power in her forehand and only came down to earth in a nervous final against Henin. Best of all was her attitude, which betrayed not a hint of entitlement—it was nice to see someone so obviously happy to be where she was.

Jankovic was equally winning on court and off. Her talk-first, think-later approach made her a press darling, and belied a serious work ethic. She played more matches than anyone—pretty much as many as humanly possible—but it was hard to get tired of her reckless athleticism, especially the way she launched herself into her backhand. Jankovic is worth watching if only to see her create a dozen distractions, then find a way to play through all of them.

7. Andy Roddick Shows His Many Sides

The image Roddick would like to remember most from 2007 came at the end of his last match, against Dmitry Tursunov in the Davis Cup final in Portland. Roddick finished with arms outstretched, the U.S. crowd applauding thunderously. Some people might have other memories of Roddick in '07—the deer in the headlights look he had by the end of his loss to Richard Gasquet at Wimbledon, perhaps.

For me, Roddick’s most memorable moments were more obscure, and revealing. The first came at the Australian Open, where he played one of the best matches of the year, a five-set tug of war with Mario Ancic. Roddick had started this tournament in an ugly way, berating the lower-ranked Jo-Wilfried Tsonga in the first round for daring to hang with him in a first-set tiebreaker. The next week, Roddick, playing a guy he respected, turned his attitude around 180 degrees. Anyone watching his match with Ancic might have expected the winner to drop to his knees in celebration (this certainly would have been the case if Novak Djokovic had been involved), but when Roddick clinched it 6-4 in the fifth, he raised an arm calmly and . . . that was it. He had too much respect for his opponent and the match they had just played to rub his face in his defeat. Instead, Roddick and Ancic walked to the net for an old-school handshake—no hugs, no head rubs, just a nod of acknowledgement after a match well fought.

Fast-forward five months to the final at Queens Club. Roddick played Nicolas Mahut in an entertaining three-setter. The American couldn’t seem to decide whether he respected Mahut, even while the Frenchman was pounding him through the first two sets. Mahut reached match point and had an easy passing shot lined up. With his first career title on the line, he rushed and drilled the ball into the tape. Instead of turning around to walk back to the baseline, Roddick backpedaled and watched Mahut the whole way. The look on Roddick’s face was, simultaneously, one of shock, relief, scorn, intimidation, and, somewhere deep down in there . . . sympathy. He could relate. Mahut had, perversely, earned his respect at that moment.

How many other professional athletes, let alone tennis pros, can express anything like that range of emotions while they play? It's why we’ll miss Andy Roddick when he’s gone.

6. David Nalbandian Pulls Off a Double Double

Like Pete Sampras, Nalbandian did his own reappearing act as the season was winding down. His performance at the Madrid and Paris Masters events was nothing short of jaw-dropping. In Madrid, he beat Nadal, Djokovic, and Federer in succession for the title; in Paris he beat Federer and Nadal again, in—dare I say it?—routine fashion. Along the way, he gave us another version of tennis excellence circa 2007: Calm, smooth, never hurried, with a new and nasty serve and the same old effortless backhand. Nalbandian moved his famous opponents past the sidelines and finished points at net with ease.

Was there any reason to downgrade this performance because it came after the Grand Slams? Absolutely not—these were Masters tournaments, and the guys on the other side of the net were the best the world had to offer. The only downside for Nalbandian: Now he must show us something at the Australian Open.

5. Oracene Says “Keep Your Chin Up”

Serena Williams was looking awful at one point in the Aussie Open, most likely during her epic struggle with Shahar Peer. Williams was hitting off her back foot and sending balls 20 feet out. She stared up at her mom with that Serena-in-trouble face: Half enraged, half little girl about to cry. Oracene gave her the most concise and effective piece of coaching any player would get all year: She put her hand under he chin and lifted both up: “Keep your chin up!” was the message, and she wasn't talking about her daughter's technique. Serena immediately turned the match around and a few days later finished the tournament with the most outrageous performance of the tennis season, when she barraged Maria Sharapova in the final with laser-like winners from all over the court. Oracene, knowing her daughter better than any coach could, reminded Serena what the core of her game and identity has always been: her unshakeable self-belief. That was all she needed.

4. Novak and Radek Get a Little Wild and Crazy

Second-round matches don’t get much more colossal than the five-set, five-hour U.S. Open duel between Djokovic and Stepanek—imagine a neck-and-neck marathon, if you can. Every set went to 7-5 or 7-6, and every point was a mini-war of attrition, with both guys baiting each other, slicing safely, playing the angles, and then suddenly making breakneck charges to the net.

Second-round matches also don’t get much quirkier. Interspersed with all those carefully crafted points were a series of oddball antics that only got odder as the match progressed. First you had Stepanek lifting his leg and fist-pumping downward like he was tying a large knot, something he did even did after missing a backhand long. He took this a step further by adding a dance step with it, a move that Djokovic mimicked in slow motion after winning a huge point. As the match reached its apex with the fifth-set tiebreaker, Stepanek juiced up the crowd in his geeky way, by twirling his index finger above his head as he was getting set to receive serve. Oh, how I wish he had won that breaker, if only because he could have given New York, and the world, its best chance to see the Worm performed on a tennis court, in front of 10,000 people.

But it was Djokovic who got to drop to the court in the end, and deservedly so. While he would go on to put on his biggest show a week later with his night-match impersonations, this was the Djokovic performance that mattered. After five hours, a thousand strokes, and those wacky celebrations, when the match was on the line Djokovic refused to miss. It’s a show we'll be seeing again.

3. Justine Almost Loses It

There were many Justine Henin moments to remember from 2007. With two majors, a 63-4 record, 10 titles, and the No. 1 ranking, this was a redemptive year for her, and maybe her best. I watched her hit dozens of brilliant backhands, forehands, volleys, and overheads (yes, real live overheads), cover every inch of every court she stepped on, fight off her nerves at crucial moments, and play rings around her bigger opponents.

So why is the Justine moment I remember more than any other the one where she came closest to losing control? It happened during the third set of her Wimbledon quarterfinal with Serena Williams. Henin was way up, but Serena was beginning to make a run. Justine was shaken and lashed out at her coach, Carlos Rodriguez, as she walked back to the baseline after losing a point. She seemed on the verge of an historic meltdown. It didn’t happen: Henin righted herself just long enough to finish Williams 6-3 in the third.

On the one hand, this was a moment when Henin and Rodriguez went too far with their on-court communication. On the other, it may have been the highest drama we saw in tennis all year. Besides the explosive forehands, backhands, and overheads, Henin gives us something that her male counterpart and fellow No. 1, Roger Federer, doesn’t—vulnerability at its most intense and dramatic.

2. Rafa Sacks Rome

Want to know where the press section is at a tennis tournament? Look for the empty seats. Or, failing that, look for the expressionless faces. Tennis reporters don’t get worked up too often; even if they wanted to, they’re not allowed.

Which makes the reaction of a few press guys to the Rafael Nadal-Mikhail Youzhny match in Rome this year something to remember. With each blistered—yes, that is the right word—winner off the Nadal racquet, the reporters in front of me were spinning around in their seats and making guttural noises. These weren’t Spanish press homers, either, but seen-it-all British adults. Their reactions weren’t inappropriate. There was something about the way Nadal was hitting the ball—the crack coming off the strings; the trajectory over the net, which was both high and flat; the penetration from way behind the baseline—that I had never seen before. It only took about four games before Youzhny was laughing as the ball screamed past him.

Improbably, Nadal maintained that level in his next match, against Djokovic. Ranging behind the baseline and far past the sidelines, he was like the most powerful and accurate backboard in the world—Djokovic’s shots were good, but they came back much, much better. All the Serb could do in the end was surrender. He deliberately dumped the ball into the bottom of the net on match point. Nobody blamed him.

As the year ends, the bloom is off Nadal, as it has been the last two seasons. He had another mediocre second half by his standards, losing twice to Nalbandian and getting crushed by Federer in Shanghai. But since this is a year-end wrap-up, let’s remember the first half that Rafa put together. He won his first title at Indian Wells and dominated on clay as always. His streak on that surface may never be broken. And I don’t know if anyone will match the kind of tennis he played in Rome in the coming year. I don’t expect to see tennis reporters spinning in their seats again anytime soon.

1. Roger Federer Claims the Belt

After Rome, I wrote that Federer and Nadal were like pro wrestlers who owned different world-championship belts, and that it was time they were unified. Well, I got the bout I wanted on the court that has become their neutral territory: the grass at Centre Court. Hey, they both love it there, and you couldn’t ask for a better spot!

Have we forgotten the power—the sun-drenched grandeur, even—of this match a little? I suppose with Nadal’s relative decline and the rise of Djokovic, the Wimbledon final of 2007 may have to wait a few years before it gets its full due. I watched it at my tennis club, on a small TV high in the corner of the room. I remember the match as a mix of the spectacular—have two guys ever covered a grass court like that?—and the grinding. The service holds piled up, and the feeling in the room was that Nadal was slowly tightening his grip.

Then he blew chances to break in the third set, and Federer grabbed it out of his hand in a tiebreaker. Same thing in the fifth—up 15-40 early in the set, Nadal sent a makeable backhand return long. He looked like he knew he’d just blown the whole thing, and he had. You can’t just fight well, you have to knock the champ out, they say in boxing, and Nadal left Federer on his feet one game too long.

Federer grabbed the set and the match this time, and he looked like a man just let out of jail as he did it. The forehands flowed from everywhere; he was in his fullest flight, as they say, and he may never soar higher. If you want to capsule up Roger Federer and send his essence to the future, you could start with the last four games of the 2007 Wimbledon final. But I thought he topped it with his speech during the trophy presentation. He said that he had told Nadal when they shook hands that they both deserved to win that day. It was a humble (and truthful) statement coming from a guy who had just won his fifth straight Wimbledon. But beyond that, the fact that Federer had taken the time, in the middle of his celebration, to console an obviously crushed Nadal at the net with those words made it a great act of friendship.

Even if Federer and Nadal never reach these heights together again, they’ve already done their share for this era of tennis. We mourn the Borg and McEnroe "era," but the peak of their rivalry lasted just two years. Then it was over for good. The same could happen to Fed and Rafa. Let’s give this match, and these two giants of tennis, their due right now.

OK, that’s it for Concrete Elbow for 2007. This has been the busiest year on this blog since I started doing it in ’05. I wrote more posts (this being the longest ever—sorry) and received more comments in return. I can say for sure now that getting immediate feedback from around the world is addictive. Having written only for magazines, I wasn’t quite ready to hear it from the readers when I started the blog—I was used to talking at people, not with them.

But like Pete Bodo over at Tennis World, I feel like the format offers much more, to me and to other readers, than a simple column. When I put up a post and finish reading all the (intelligent) comments on it, I know a lot more about the subject that I would have otherwise. There’s a density of knowledge that comes from a group, and which you can’t get from even the most thoroughly reported article. I feel like the blog surrounds it topics, and that there are 10, 20, 100 different, valid, and insightful ways of looking at them.

That doesn’t mean CE or TW are utopias. I’m aggravated by all the usual suspects: trolls, stat abusers, the Federer police, one-line ponies who read a thousand words I’ve written in praise of a certain player, then trash me for a single less-than-worshipful aside. I still have to brace myself before I click on the comments bar. At the same time, I wouldn’t want every comment to consist of “Great post, Steve!” (Actually, now that I mention it …)

Let me finish with a story I was told by a friend I met through this blog. I had dinner recently with TW regulars Asad Raza and Andrew Friedman (it’s hard to believe I've only known those guys since the spring). Asad recounted running into Patrick McEnroe at a restaurant and asking him about an upcoming Davis Cup match. PMac was shocked and very happy to hear that someone he was meeting randomly even knew what the Davis Cup was. Anyone who works in tennis in the U.S. understands what a rare and exciting feeling that is. I played squash with a guy from Peru a few weeks ago who mentioned that he had watched the Masters Cup. My first thought was, “Did someone just say the words ‘Masters Cup’ to me?” I was floored.

That’s what the blogs have been like for Pete and I. We’ve suddenly been put in a room with hundreds of people who know what the Davis Cup is, and who say the words “Masters Cup” all the time.

It’s been nice to meet you. Stick around, a new season isn't far away.