!Frenchies by Pete Bodo
Congratulations to Serbia on its triumph in the Davis Cup final. I wrote a post for ESPN on what the victory means for Novak Djokovic, who was overshadowed by some of the unexpected drama in this tie. But let's remember, if Viktor Troicki emerged the hero, Novak Djokovic was the rock of Serbia. And I see in this morning's news reports that I'm not the only one who sees this weekend's win as Novak's long-deferred second major, and as a potential jump-starter for a second, even more prosperous stage of his career.
The results this weekend may have dealt the Davis Cup reform movement a signficant blow, in that it's hard to imagine anyone who watched the tie unfold thinking, Gee, they really need to do something about this event... The only thing Davis Cup lacks is universal support. It's funny, but as a New Yorker, I'm exposed daily to the New York Times, a news operation that takes quite a bit of pride in being international in scope (the bona fides begin with going ga-ga for futbol, aka football, or soccer). Yet there was no "news alert" from the Times on my Blackberry shortly after Troicki clinched the Cup for Serbia. Let's face it, broadly speaking, there's a PC/hip element to being a soccer fan. Davis Cup isn't comparably cool. And curmudgeon appeal only takes you so far.
One of the odd and intriguing things about the weekend was that while four of the five matches (in fact, all the singles rubbers) were straight-set blowouts, the tie was eventful and at times intense. You can thank the doubles for that, as the French came back from two sets down to win and establish a 2-1 lead going into the final day. Once again, Davis Cup struck a blow for the game of doubles. I've said it before but it bears repeating—given the relatively simple, streamlined format of Davis Cup, the number of permutations and potential tactical surprises available to a Davis captain is impressive. The lead France secured going into the third day also unleashed a chain of moves that struck another blow against the "reverse singles" tradition. The only players who played more than one singles match on either team were the respective No. 1s, Djokovic and Gael Monfils.
These substitution maneuvers are a relatively new thing in Davis Cup. It wasn't that long ago that a team took advantage of the substitution rule only if one of its players was disaccomodated and unable to play the reverse singles, usually due to injury. The ITF has tweaked the Davis Cup format significantly in recent years and come up with the better mousetrap. The key changes: mandating that the highest-ranked player on either team play No. 1 singles (this can backfire if, say, your No. 1 is great on fast courts but apt to struggle on the clay chosen by a host-opponent. Tough luck.), making the clash of the No. 1 players the fourth match, or the first of the reverse (Sunday) singles, and freeing up the captains to substitute in the final day of singles. This whole baroque operation is launched by a "draw" in which only one name is drawn from a hat—that of the singles player who will play the first match of the tie. Then you just fill out the draw, like a crossword puzzle.
The flexible format has invited captains to play guessing games, and in this final it appears that French captain Guy Forget out-thunk himself—or Serbian captain Bogdan Obradovic out-thought Forget when he responded with a suprise of his own. Forget chose to use Michael Llodra in the fifth and decisive singles rubber, whereupon Obradovic retaliated by naming Viktor Troicki to play Llodra, ignoring the fact that using Janko Tipsarevic (a loser in the first rubber against Monfils) would have given the Serbs the significant advantage of fresh legs. Llodra and Troicki both had played in the agonizingly long doubles rubber.
Forget had nominated Gilles Simon to play No. 2 at the start of the tie, reckoning that Djokovic would probably win both his singles, thereby making the doubles absolutely critical for the French. So he saved Llodra for doubles. That worked out well enough to give France that 2-1 lead, but the doubles was a long-five setter, and Forget did an about-face on the fatigue question by asking Llodra to play the final singles.
To compound his risk, Forget was going with a hit-or-miss serve and volley player (Llodra) on a slow indoor surface where he would have to be extremely sharp over a potentially long period to win. I imagine that Forget simply hoped that Llodra would be on fire, inspired by the comeback he mounted in the doubles (with Arnaud Clement), and get the job done quickly and efficiently.
This was more than a Hail Mary, but not by very much. Sure, Llodra might have swarmed all over Troicki, a relative Davis Cup newbie, making him feel the full burden of that mythical Davis Cup pressure in his home arena. But France might have accomplished the same thing—albeit at a more leisurely pace, and with a greater margin for error—had Froget allowed Simon play. To make a guy feel pressure, you either have to charge him hard and successfully, or grind him down, physically and emotionally. Simon, a baseliner, certainly would have played longer points. He's better equipped than Llodra to make the other guy win it, and that's a daunting task in a decisive Davis Cup match.
But I don't want to be too hard on Forget or the French. They've been a critical factor in the renaissance of Davis Cup over the past few decades, a resurgence that was originally driven by John McEnroe (with significant help later on from Boris Becker and the ever team-orientated Swedish stars, Stefan Edberg and Mats Wilander). The funny thing is that the basic character of French tennis doesn't really suggest that the nation would develop into a Davis Cup stalwart. For rightly or wrongly, the French are perceived by many as stylish and invariably "interesting," but a bit soft, a bit too individualistic and perhaps even too self-absorbed to be good team players. The French in general have been Grand Slam underachievers, ergo, they ought to be mediocre in Davis Cup, which is truly a buck hunt. Yet they consistently punch above their weight in the competition.
It's not like Monfils, Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, Llodra and Clement et al (and you can trace the trend back much further) really need what money they get from playing Davis Cup. The French play simply because, like the majority of top players, they believe in Davis Cup. And because they have a proud national tradition to maintain.
The winning French tradition goes way back. They reached the first of their 15 finals in 1919, losing 2-3 to the British (there's a British-tennis joke in there somewhere). The French hit their stride and implanted their reverence for the Davis Cup in the heyday of the Four Musketeers, who won six consecutive Davis Cup finals (back then, the Challenge Round format allowed the defending champs to sit out the competition until a challenger emerged for the final) starting in 1927.
But after that run, France would not win another final, while appearing in a number of them, until it took down the two-man Romanian team of Ilie Nastase and Ion Tiriac in 1977. The French tasted success again in the Forget-Henri Leconte years, beating Thomas Muster's squad of Austrians in 1986, and they posted their greatest Open-era triumph in 1991, when they hosted and beat a U.S. squad that featured Pete Sampras, Andre Agassi and the exceptional doubles team of Ken Flach and Robert Seguso. The French are 2-3 in finals since then.
All in all, the French are presently ranked No. 5—ahead of the U.S. and Russia—and share third place on the all-time titles list with Great Britain (there's a British-tennis joke in there somewhere). The French have won the cup nine times—more than Sweden, Spain (currently the top-ranked squad), Germany or Russia. And given how this tie worked out, who knows what might have happened, had Tsonga not been injured?
But the real value of the French has been in boosting the prestige of the competition. As a Grand Slam nation and, in general, global trend-setter, France's loyalty to Davis Cup has been an enormous asset to the ITF and tennis in general. Many thanks, France. I hope they're at full strength next year, because this team deserves another shot.
Of course, they might have to contend with Djokovic and company somewhere along the trail, because from the enthusiasm we witnessed in Belgrade all year, Serbia may be the new France. But next time, the "old" France will host.