“This sport can be so cruel,” Sue Barker said to Andy Roddick to start her post-match interview with him on Centre Court. Roddick was having none of that sappy nonsense, of course. In the days afterward, however, I realized that she had a point. Everyone I talked to about the match would shake their head and mention just one shot out of the hundreds—thousands?—that were hit that day: Roddick’s botched backhand volley at 6-5 in the second-set tiebreaker. You play the best match of your life and not only do you lose, but nobody even remembers a single shot that you hit in the court. That’s cruel.
This is the Wimbledon men’s final we’re talking about, of course, the third straight five-set epic to take place on the last day of the fortnight. Roger Federer was the common denominator in all three. He won two of them, and on this day set the record for the most men’s Grand Slam titles. He assured his tennis immortality, and by all rights should have wrapped up the title of Athlete of the Decade—if we’d known there was such a title at the time. At the start of Wimbledon in 2003, Federer had never reached the semifinal of a major, let alone won one; a scant six years later, not much more than half a decade later, he’d won 15. That’s not good; that’s just goofy.
—This match looks so sunny and crisp after the storms and darkness and drama of the final the year before. It’s certainly well played, and these highlights point up how many different types of shots were on display—deft half-volleys, perfect passes, awesome serving, a casually parabolic overhead from the baseline. But for the most part the action happens inside the sidelines; Federer vs. Nadal was more rip-roaring, and took the players farther afield.
—The first point we see is enough to let us know that Rodick was playing the match of his life. He extends through his backhand smoothly, hits a heavy and penetrating ball, and catches Federer a little out of position, something he hasn't achieved all that often in the past. It wins him the set. Later we see Roddick do the same to Federer from his forehand side, from way out of position. He was matching, even outplaying, Federer during the rallies.
—But that’s been the Federer formula at Wimbledon: Hit aces, hold serve, and win tiebreakers. It won him the title in 2007 and almost brought him back in ’08, but it never worked quite as well as it did this year. Federer hit 50 aces, won the second-set tiebreaker 8-6, the third-set tiebreaker 7-5, and held 15 straight times to win the final set.
—My cruel friends were right about one thing: The most important shot was Roddick’s backhand volley at 6-5 in the breaker. He said later that he thought Federer’s high pass was going long, so he hesitated. But two other things went wrong with this shot. His approach landed only a foot or so behind the service line, which gave Federer some time for his pass. And Roddick hit his volley with a weird grip. His volley grips have never been ideal, and he chops down on the forehand side. This is the product, in part, of having a two-handed backhand and a semi-Western grip on the forehand side. The more conservative volley grips never feel natural. I feel Roddick’s pain. I grew up with a two-handed backhand and could never learn a proper backhand volley grip. In college, in a dual match against our biggest rivals, our team was tied at 4-4 in matches. In the deciding match, my doubles partner and I were up 5-4 in the third set, with me serving. We reached match point, I served and came to the net—and sent a makeable backhand volley long. We eventually lost. Afterward, my coach’s only words about the shot were, “You had the wrong grip.”
When people talked about Roddick’s miss afterward, they typically said something like, “All he had to do was get it in the court.” That’s not true; Federer would have tracked down a lollipop volley. More than that, though, just because the pros make those types of high volleys look easy doesn’t mean they’re as easy as they look.
—The second most important shot took place three points earlier, with Roddick up 6-2 in the breaker. He had four set points, and he was serving; this was the time to close the door, since Federer would have the next two serves. But Federer got him on the run and forced Roddick to go for a forehand winner up the line from a bad position. Roddick hit it well but Federer came up with a neat crosscourt flick to keep himself alive in the tiebreaker. That ability to hang around and give his opponent a chance to self-destruct is classic Federer, but I wonder if Roddick would have gone for something less risky if the score had been closer in the breaker. He tried to end it with one swing, and it didn’t work.
—I’d forgotten that Roddick had a break point (two break points?) at 8-8 in the fifth. Federer served his way out of it, naturally, and knocked off a perfect swing volley at 30-40. Talk about a shot that’s not as easy as it looks. I’ve never hit a swing volley in the court in my life; Federer makes it look like he could do it while juggling two bowling pins with his other hand.
—Federer said later that in the fifth set he imagined the two of them playing forever, with long beards hanging down below their faces—now you don’t need to feel so bad about the crazy, useless thoughts that pass through your own head during a match. But Roddick lost his way in the 30th game. His coach, Larry Stefanki, said that the shadows on the court, which were made worse by the new roof, bothered Roddick in that game. You can see that the last ball is on him before he’s ready. The better explanation is this: Somebody had to lose.
—Federer was the winner, and we can only marvel at his seemingly superhuman consistency. It’s come at the expense of Roddick on many occasions, but this time those superhuman qualities, that surreal 15-major record, the tennis nobility watching from the Royal Box, all of it served to make Roddick seem more human, more sympathetic, more dignified, more worthy. Who was the nobler figure at the end, the Duke of Whatever, or the American guy shaking his hand while wearing his baseball hat backwards?
When you watch sports, do you love the winner, or do you love the person? At this year’s Wimbledon final, you didn’t have to choose. Roddick was right: There's nothing cruel about that.