LONDON—Sometimes a match you intended would function as a footnote to the day’s action turns out to be the best, or at least the most fully-realized, of the lot. That’s the way it works out with David Nalbandian’s match against Vasek Pospisil, shuffled to the smaller, more intimate surroundings of Court 1.
This is Nalbandian’s third appearance at Queen’s Club, having made the semifinals in 2008 and losing in the round-of-16 here last year. Before the coin toss, Nalbandian bends down to run his palm over the grass and engages umpire Gerry Armstrong in conversation about whatever he feels. It’s been a damp day, and it’s getting damper now as we head into a gloomy evening; during the match, both players will find themselves face down on the turf.
Pospisil, the world No. 103, will turn 22 in 10 days. He doesn’t look it; he’s tall and well-built, but fresh-faced and he plays like a young man, with a refreshing enthusiasm. The contrast to Nalbandian, though, is more than the juxtaposition of the raw talent and the stone-faced veteran. No other player’s tennis can equal the peculiarly aesthetic appeal that Nalbandian’s play offers me; so sleek, so well-balanced, it feels almost decadent in its pure sensory indulgence, not least because it’s equally enjoyable whether he wins or loses. Against that, Pospisil’s energy explodes forward onto the court in every point, his huffing and puffing and effort audible unlike the silent Nalbandian.
Pospisil does best throughout when he sticks to simple patterns of play: Booming serve, a big forehand into space. But he’s not one-dimensional. Four games in, he serves-and-volleys for the first time and does it as well as anyone I’ve watched today. It’s not unusual to see a young or not-so-young player taking a big cut at a return, but what’s more impressive is that as Nalbandian figures that out and starts serving into his body—trying to jam him up—Pospisil picks up on it and does a good job of getting away from the ball enough to lean into a good hit.
Nalbandian double-faults to bring up break point after one of those lovely returns at 2-3; he saves it with a crafty drop-shot. But Pospisil is getting much closer to his serve than vice versa, and that pressure tells when the veteran must serve to stay in the first set. At 30-30, Pospisil plays his most patient point yet, staying in the rally, trading slices with Nalbandian until the Argentine has to take one hand off the racquet to get the ball back. Pospisil uses that advantage to run around for a forehand to force the error, after which Nalbandian throws in his second double-fault of the game. Pospisil wins the set 6-4 and is a set away from a big victory.
The first signs of trouble for the young Canadian come when he is on the verge of a potentially decisive breakthrough, having cracked a backhand return winner to earn two break points with Nalbandian serving at 0-1. Pospisil puts a backhand slice in the net to give away the first, and gets himself stuck in no man’s land charging in on the second. A forehand error gives away a third and, as so often happens, the let-down happens on his own serve after Nalbandian holds. When a double-fault gives Nalbandian 30-30, he finally shows his superiority with the sliced backhand, cutting the ball so sharply it barely seems to bounce. It throws Pospisil off, and Nalbandian gets the break. The veteran has his eye in on the young man's serve now, and starts dipping the ball back low to Pospisil’s feet whenever he tries to serve and volley. After a double fault and consequent double break, Nalbandian hits his first forehand winner down the line to even the match at one set all.
As the light fades and spectators line the top row of the Centre Court stands to get a look, Pospisil’s coach, Frederic Niemeyer—who has been encouraging but not off-puttingly voluble—has a quiet word of advice for his charge: ‘Fight hard, buddy.’ Pospisil, or ‘VP’ as his team keep calling him, doesn’t seem to need telling; after holding to open the decider, he bounds to his chair, shaking a clenched fist, vibrating with eagerness while Nalbandian trudges the distance, shaking his head. If anything, he’s too eager, a touch too impatient when greater discretion served him better earlier in the match.
Pospisil has game point at 1-1, but double-faults; three break points are saved with big serves before he has game point again. Nalbandian punishes him for an attempt at serve-and-volley, then passes him easily at net for the break. It’s telling that when Pospisil does return to more patient play, he earns a chance to break back, working the point until the space for the big winner opens up. Nalbandian, though, proves himself a more seasoned campaigner, choosing the perfect moment to come to net himself, then on the next point putting a lob over Pospisil’s head that sees VP crashing into the back wall. Pospisil’s opportunity has passed, and Nalbandian serves out the match, 6-2 in the third.
It’s difficult not to see this match as the triumph of experience over innocence, or that of a complete game over one which still has exploitable weaknesses, is still rubbing raw in places. Pospisil can look forward to—one hopes—years of growth; in the short term, he hopes to play doubles with Daniel Nestor at the Olympics. The career and future of Nalbandian more or less prove the folly of making grand, sweeping statements about a given player‘s future; it’s a cruel irony that he has so many years of wear and tear on his body when he’s playing some of the wisest, coolest tennis he’s ever produced. I knew from the beginning that I would leave this match wanting to see David Nalbandian play again. It comes as a surprise, but a pleasant one, that I feel the same way about Vasek Pospisil.
Hannah Wilks is a frequent contributor to TENNIS.com.