Arthur Ashe Stadium gets very, very little love. OK, it gets none. And it’s true, during the daytime the USTA’s corporate colossus can suck the life out of pretty much any match. But even a hardcore tennis populist would have to admit that there’s a certain glamour to the place at night, particularly for a big second-week match. The seats are full all the way up to the nosebleeds, and the luxury boxes, which are such an obnoxious waste of space during the day, become the focal point of the energy in the arena—that’s where the liquor is, after all. Steely Dan once sang of Hollywood, “while the poor people sleep, all the stars come out at night.” It’s still true in Queens during the Open, though the stars who came out last night were a somewhat motley bunch, and perhaps not the best advertisement for the sport’s hipness. We had Lorne Michaels, Seal and Heidi Klum, and the Donald and Melania. I guess that’s tennis’ audience: one-named men with German supermodels. Hey, it’s a niche.
Roger Federer, tennis’ biggest star in the post-Andre era, had been wondering for the last week when he could come out at night. He wanted to play, as he put it, in the “more electrified” atmosphere of an evening match on Ashe. He got his wish Thursday against James Blake, in a quarterfinal that many fans had circled when the draws were made two weeks ago. You could see that Federer felt the electricity, too, because he came out a little tight. Blake, who was only playing the biggest match of his career, was pumped up by it. His J-block, which took the glamour factor in the building down about 10 notches, helped mainly by irritating Federer. The combination—Blake up, Fed down—made for a competitive first set, in which Blake held three sets points before losing in a tiebreaker.
I mentioned in my last post that there were certain things that only Blake can do on a court: bust back the hardest-hit serves, play “aggressive defense,” run around to hit a forehand more quickly than anyone, and snap off vicious overheads. I guess I forgot about Federer, because he can do every one of these things. His overhead may not have the finality of Blake’s, but I can’t remember ever seeing him miss one or lose a point once he got a crack at one.
I hadn’t watched Fed much this tournament, mainly because I didn’t want to see the guys he was playing. I was reminded again in the first set last night of how cat-like he is around the court. Not only is he always in position, he’s in position gracefully, softly—quietly, if that word can apply. The only time I can recall seeing him off-balance or lunging is when he has to track down Rafael Nadal’s forehand in his backhand corner. That’s more a testament to how tough Nadal’s forehand is than anything else. Early last night, Federer briefly misjudged a floating Blake return; it looked like Fed wasn’t sure whether to take it out of the air or not. He eventually let it bounce, but it got behind him for a split-second. Not a problem: Federer took one big step back and was immediately balanced and in position again to hit winner. Which is exactly what he did, with a short, sharp, swing of his forehand.
Michael Jordan—yes, we can mention Fed with Michael Jordan—said that he felt like he had to prove himself every day, no matter what he had already won. The night-match atmosphere, combined with his American opponent, seemed to make Federer feel the same way. An eight-time major champion was playing a zero-time major champion, but he suddenly had to prove himself to the New York crowd. The pressure point of the first set, and ultimately the match, came with Blake serving at 6-5 in the tiebreaker. Federer had been up 4-1 in the breaker, and if he lost this point, it could have made for a very long night. Federer didn’t panic; in fact, he may have played his most purposeful point of the set. He hit himself out of the ad corner with his backhand and eventually turned the point in his favor with his forehand. He backed Blake up behind the baseline, where he sent a lame block forehand long. The American’s best chance was gone. He would lose that set and, with his shoulders slumped and the air out of the building, the next one 6-0.
In the third set, Federer hit an absurd backhand winner up the line, one of those Fed shots that makes me say—out loud, even when I’m by myself—“good God.” (Sometimes I mix it up with “Oh, lord” or “Ooof!” or even “Oy.”) On this one, Blake himself shook his head and said “Too good.” I thought then that Blake had thrown in the towel, and that it had happened too easily, even against Federer. But it wasn’t the case. Blake relaxed and regained control of the points, while Fed got a little overamped and began to pound balls over the baseline. He got so excited at the end of the third set that he lost all his grace for a split-second, going down hard on the DecoTurf on the final point. But let’s face it, Roger Federer wasn’t going to lose three straight sets to a guy who has never won a five-setter, no matter where or when they were playing. And Blake didn’t do himself any favors by continuing to go for broke with hard returns and line-drive forehands. James always hits all out and takes no time between points; he’s a stubborn guy that way. It’s taken him far, but, once again, not to the semis of a Slam.
Late in the match I realized that it’s Federer who does something that no one else can: He takes over the middle of the court and creates out of the air like no one in history. Andre Agassi popularized the swinging volley, but his was a rudimentary thing compared to the way Federer uses it. Anything even remotely defensive is fair game. Imagine playing someone who could take your standard floating slice rally shot and put it away with a full-swing topspin volley at any time? Sounds scary. And then there’s that backhand snap overhead, an exceedingly difficult shot that Federer hit for a couple winners last night. It's another example of a common squash shot that Federer has brought to the tennis court. Squash: Could it be the secret to becoming the greatest tennis player in history?
Last week, I saw a little of Federer's match against Vince Spadea. In the stands, a guy and two girls in their 20s sat down and proceeded to tie blue Nike Federer headbands over their foreheads. One of the girls had writing on her forearms that I eventually deciphered as “Go Fed!!!” and “Fed’s the greatest!!!” What a bunch of dorks, I thought. But last night, after Federer blistered one last outrageous backhand winner at an impossible angle, I started to think they weren't so crazy. Maybe I’ll get one of those headbands for Fed’s next match . . . Nah, too much. I’ll just keep saying “good God” to myself over and over. That’s crazy enough.