Do you:
(a) Hotfoot it out at 5.40 pm, during a changeover, so as not to miss your taxi or your flight?
(b) Wait to see who will take the second set, planning a mad dash afterwards for the waiting taxi regardless of the outcome? (You have already called the driver at 5.45 pm to say that you are coming, but a little late, and have reassured him that you will pay him for his time, and tip him even more generously than you did earlier in the day, especially if he can get you to the airport quickly)?
(c) Decide that you will have to stay until the end regardless of how long the match takes, as the day still might include a never-before-witnessed-
in-person trophy-biting moment, which means that maybe you can't even leave right after the final point is played?
You are, of course, ready to go and pay off the driver (you know he’s only thirty yards away as you've already scouted the quick-escape exit) in between sets two and three - in the event that Stan takes the second. Of course, that would leave you free to return to the court for more. . .
On the middle Saturday during Roland Garros, I stayed right until the end of Rafa's match against Albert Montanes. Rafa never looked like losing (my friend left half an hour before I did), but I ended up missing not only the last Eurostar, but the last possible flight home.
On Sunday, therefore, that particular embarrassment was at the forefront of my mind.
Naturally, I dismissed all such petty concerns - I was prepared to go the distance if necessary. Rafa found a way through and won before 6 pm, but I waited to see the presentations. I'd struggled through the sardine-can crush horror that was Heathrow on Saturday morning, the day after unprecedented flash floods in southern England had left thousands stranded there, with multiple plane delays and cancellations, including mine. This, just to get to the semi-final against the fearsome F-Lo (Feliciano Lopez). How, then, could I fail to see the final through to its ceremonial conclusion?
Eventually I tore myself away at 6.20 pm. It was a hair-raising journey out to the airport. Maybe my waiting driver had been watching the German Grand Prix earlier in the afternoon; the amount of centripetal force felt during some of his racing spirals out of motorway exits was alarming, to say the least. Upon arrival at the airport, I gave him every Euro I had left in my purse; he was simply heroic in his dedication to customer service. After sprinting through the airport, I just made it to the boarding gate as it was closing, even after having my cameras thoroughly taken apart and checked over by Airport Security in case they were explosive devices in disguise.
Even while my internal decision-making drama was going on, I couldn’t help noticing the seemingly small things that, added together, allowed Rafa to suddenly look in control, and then to reel off five straight games from 2-5 down, to take the match.
Perhaps that’s why I hung on – once he had achieved momentum, I became sure that he would take the set after all, and I'd still be in with a fighting chance of getting home. Stan, serving for the set at 5-3, looked nervous. He double-faulted, to groans from the crowd. He did it again later, too. In 2007, even taking a set from Rafa on clay must be more than most players expect to do – he’s lost just five sets this clay season, of 75 played. and three of those were to that other Swiss guy - you know, the world number one.
There were a couple of specific shots that seemed to give Rafa an extra boost in coming from behind – an outrageous get, racing from behind the baseline to near the net, and a very solid overhead that he smashed away. I think there was also a drop shot that helped him hold serve when he looked as though he might go down 1-5. That was the Rafa I was hoping to see.
In many ways the set reminded me of the second set of the Rafa versus F-Lo semi-final match, after the first-set breadstick. The latter was ahead for most of it, but towards the end couldn’t maintain the pressure, or his high level of play, and made some nervy errors; the 7-5 second-set score was the same as for the final, and probably for the same reason – superior mental strength on the part of the winner, who increased his relentless focus to break, while the loser knew that he had to consistently go out of his comfort zone to pull off an upset.
Stan was a deserving finalist, and I think that although some of the ebb and flow was driven by errors, this particular match was appropriately tense and dramatic enough as a final – Rafa was a break down in both sets before recovering, while Stan definitely had his chances, and gave the crowd much to appreciate. The elegant Wawrinka backhand down the line was very effective, even off some of Rafa’s higher-bouncing topspin shots, and he was putting away some stunning forehand angled winners too.
I don’t know where Sunday’s Stan was during the Australian Open, where Rafa inflicted a routine loss on him. I also couldn’t help wondering what the scoreline might have been, had these two played earlier this year in Davis Cup on the tricky Taraflex carpet in Geneva - a surface that, ironically, was meant to be to Switzerland's advantage. You may recall that it put them both out of contention with injuries sustained during practice, before the tie began, and that Stan's was serious enough to have kept him off the tour for some time.
On Sunday’s evidence I’d say that clay is probably Stan’s best surface – his movement around the court isn’t exceptional, but he was able to stay with Rafa on the baseline in many exchanges, and win them outright, which delighted the crowd. His father is German, which brought him some additional support.
