In his (even) more ornery days, John McEnroe had the same complaint about each of his partners in the broadcasting booth for the U.S. Open final. It was a simple one: From Bud Collins to Mary Carillo, he believed that none of them were qualified to be there. “How can anyone know what it’s like to play in a Grand Slam final if they haven’t done it themselves?”
A rather high standard, but after watching Fernando Gonzalez play the first game of the Aussie Open final today, I realized once again that Johnny Mac had a point. There’s a uniquely heady atmosphere surrounding one of these occasions, and no matter how many big matches you play, nothing can prepare you to go out, with just one other guy and a few tennis racquets, to compete in front of the world. Even the other individual sports, like golf or car racing, offer a course full of fellow participants for spectators to watch. The players in the Super Bowl can hide inside their helmets. In tennis, you’re it, and everyone gets to see you sweat close up. Pete Sampras has said that the one feeling he misses from his playing days is this: “it’s two hours before the Wimbledon final, you know the whole world will be watching, and you feel like you’re going to throw up."
Just before the first game started, Larry Stefanki, Gonzalez’s coach, told Pam Shriver that even if “things didn’t go as planned,” his student needed to stay calm because it was a long, three-out-of-five-set match. Gonzo made Stefanki look like a prophet when he shanked two backhands in the first game and quickly compiled more errors than he’d made in the first two sets of his matches with Lleyton Hewitt and Tommy Haas. This wasn’t the quarters or the semis anymore, and it was clear right away that Gonzo wasn’t going to be ripping the cover off the ball the way he had been all week.
Still, Federer was jittery enough to keep Gonzalez in the set with a few errors of his own. The Chilean even reached set point and had a good look at a forehand. He had served into the ad court at 40-30, and Federer had floated a slice backhand crosscourt. If this had been the semifinals, with someone not named Federer on the other side of the net, Gonzo likely would have drilled it for a screaming winner. Instead, he drilled it into the net. It should be noted, though, that it wasn’t a gimme—yes, Federer had floated the ball, but not down the middle. It landed just far enough to Gonzalez’s left that he was a split-second late getting over there. A little bad luck, and a little special Federer skill, and the set had slipped through Gonzalez’s hands.
That was the theme of the day for Gonzalez, I thought: Whether it was the first set, or a few later service games, he couldn’t quite finish, and he became increasingly frazzled because of it—every shot didn’t turn to gold the way they had for the last week. Gonzo (or Feña, to you international tennis elites) even seemed annoyed by the high bounce of the surface, as if that could have been a surprise at this late date. The stress of the day, and Federer’s relentlessness from every part of the court, had Gonzalez sucking wind by the middle of the third set. (It may be a good thing he didn’t win the first set, because he was looking ripe for a bagel treatment in the fourth.) His main problem, though, after the first set, was a total inability to read Federer’s serve. The Swiss’ service games became formalities; apparently Gonzalez couldn’t guess from his toss which way Federer was going to go with his delivery (a skill famously mastered by Sampras, at the behest of Pete Fischer).
I thought Serena Williams made a good point when she was interviewed in the stands. She repeated her mother’s advice that Gonzo needed to “get out of Melbourne.” In other words, he needed to move in front of the Melbourne sign on the court and play closer to the baseline. It was true, Gonzalez was scrambling farther behind the baseline than he had been earlier in the tournament. Good advice, but easier said than done, particularly against Federer. The Swiss generally refuses to back up, preferring to short-hop balls and dictate events from on top of the baseline. This means his opponent has to stand his ground and hit hard, accurately, and consistently enough to get Federer scrambling—only Nadal has the weight of shot to do that with any regularity. Otherwise, like Gonzo, you’re going to spend a lot of time back in the netherworld, chasing Federer’s heavy topspin.
As far as tactics, Stefanki said that Gonzo was going to go into Fed’s forehand, and he won a couple early points doing just that. But he didn’t keep it up, as far as I could tell. Federer seemed more willing to do different things in this match and mix up his aggressive plays. He hit a clutch backhand volley to save a set point in the first set, and he went straight at the Gonzo forehand when he had the advantage in the point. One note about Federer: He never really goes for the lines, the way someone like Gonzalez does. Watch Federer’s forehand passing shot down the line next time. It goes rifling past his opponent, but it has so much side- and topspin that the ball never even flirts with the line. That safety factor, which he builds into each shot without sacrificing any power, is a big part of what separates Sire Jacket from the pack.
The peak of the match, and its most telling moment, came late in the third set, with Federer trying to get the break he needed to finish the match. Gonzalez hit a spectacular running backhand pass up the line, a shot that looked like a sure winner. But Federer lunged and caught the ball just before it got by him and managed to put it into the open court to win the point. Gonzalez’s best wasn’t good enough for Federer’s best.
Odd and ends:
Gonzalez wouldn’t kill a moth on the court, and even made sure the ball boy didn’t step on it. I’m always surprised at what a mild guy he is off court; he looks almost nasty on it. He showed his soft side to good effect in the acceptance speech.
This was probably Federer’s most professional acceptance speech—no tears, no giggles, some good lines. Has he started to rehearse these things in his head during the final? He even congratulated Gonzo’s “team”—the guy is starting to sound like the Mayor of Tennis. Question: Did Federer ask Ken Rosewall to stand up, and then realize that Rosewall was already standing? He's gotta make a mistake sometime. Right?
The tournament: Rebound Ace has been famous in recent years for producing great matches, and there were at least two classics this time: Roddick-Ancic and Nadal-Murray. But the 2007 Aussie Open was more about performances, blowout performances—Federer-Roddick, Gonzo-Nadal, Gonzo-Hewitt, and Serena-Sharapova. This year the surface really favored the people playing their best tennis, and gave them just a split-second more time to do it.
Federer now has 10 Slams, but forget about Sampras’ 14 major titles. That’s already in the bag. If the guy wants a real goal, it’s time to start looking at Jimmy Connors’ record 109 titles. (Fed even mentioned that record during this tournament). There's a theory out there, largely forgotten since the days of Sampras, that overall titles, rather than Slams, are the real mark of greatness, because that number better represents a player’s entire career. Rog has a lot of work to do to catch Jimbo: Having gotten a somewhat late start on world domination, he now has 46 titles. Sixty-three more to go.
Does 109 titles sound crazy? Well, consider that when Sampras won his 14th slam in 2002, Federer at that point had never even made the semifinals of a Slam, let alone won one. Who in their right mind would have said that he would be a lock to break the record six years later?
To get to Jimbo, Federer would have to win 10 titles a year until he's 32 (he won 12 titles in 2006). That will only happen if he starts to care about the record and play more tournaments. Hey, it's a lot to ask, but we have to keep this guy motivated or he may take up a new sport altogether.
Thanks, everyone, it's been a great tournament. The Grand Slams really are action-packed. Remember that 20-18 tiebreaker between Roddick and Tsonga in the first round? Hard to believe that was the same tournament, isn't it?