Think I'll go all Roger Federer on you today. That is, I'll just go about my business, type a few pretty paragraphs, throw in a few juicy quotes, make a few brilliant observations, explain it all (and more) and call it good. Just take care of business in a ho-hum, casually and mind-blowingly brilliant and smooth way.
Seriously, though, that's one of the admirable qualities of Federer; it's not so much that he makes it look easy (which he does) - that's partly the function of talent, his God-given gift. What struck me today as Federer battled Novak Djokovic, in a match that had all the entertaining overtones of an exhibition, is how Federer just goes about his business and gets the job done, leaving the histrionics, attention-gathering dramatics, and overt appeals for our sympathies to all those other guys. More and more, Federer goes out, goes to work, keeps his mouth shut, and gets it done like no other player has, probably in the history of the game.
This will set up a kind of classicist's final, for he will be bumping heads with another undemonstrative fellow, if one whose all-business attitude may owe more to youth and a kind of arresting timidity (for one so tall and powerful) than to experience and flat-out superiority, Juan Martin del Potro.
Tennis purists will love this; those who like to wax nostalgic about the heydays of John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors less so. But it has to tell you something that McEnroe himself, now re-constructed, will endorse the purist's point-of-view. This is a significant accomplishment, and I'm not sure exactly how Federer did it. Wait, I do know. He won 15 Grand Slam titles while generating less drama (of the non-essential kind) than any other towering champion.
It would be nice to report that Federer took it upon himself to save the world, or at least that part of it to which tennis is crucial, but he did no such thing. He was just being himself, and thereby set an example. Roger Federer has made the world safe for sportsmanship and sotto voce brilliance. Leo Durocher, who famously said, "Nice guys finish last," must be rolling over - and over - in his grave.
Del Potro appears to be on the same track. His post-match remarks on Arthur Ashe, and later in his presser, were so unaffected, so un-demonstratively heartfelt, that it was, somewhat counter-intuitively, moving. Of the crowd, which has taken to this gentle giant in a sort of mirror-image of its love for the feisty little underdog (Melanie Oudin, anyone?), he said: Well, they help me a lot to be happy in the court, you know. I heard the crowd so exciting when I did a good point, and that's beautiful for me."
The crowd, of course, lapped it up and showered applause on del Potro, who later said that his oft-declared love for the US Open was implanted when he was a youngster watching television, and saw the stadium "too big." Hmmm. . . wise child. "I say (to myself), this will be my favorite tournament."
Del Potro got to the final the hard way, through Rafael Nadal. I don't have time to do justice to the "Nadal issue" today, but the short version is that the arc and texture of his career seems to have changed, perhaps in a more fundamental way that we might have expected, with his loss to Robin Soderling at the French Open. Today, del Potro did exactly what a 6-6, 180-pound stretch of lean muscle needs to do against a man who was willing to trade court position for room to maneuver. Delpo imposed himself, playing so big that you half expected his shadow to fall across the net and all the way to Nadal's baseline. As he said, "I saw Rafa in the baseline, but too far away on the baseline. . ."
Tomorrow, Delpo must be no less imposing and physical, but he's going to have to be quicker and even more willing to pounce on any opportunity to take the game to Federer - to impose the pace and tone he wants on the match, which is something Novak Djokovic wasn't capable of doing. The underdog del Potro's attitude is characteristically phlegmatic, "Yes, I'm (with) confidence. When I was playing against Roger in the French Open I was so close. On that surface was much better for me. And if I play against him tomorrow, the surface going to help too much him, not too much me. But I have a good sensation with everything, and I hope the best for tomorrow."
!90710284 That the Federer-Djokovic match seemed more a demonstration than battle was probably a mistake on Djokovic's part. He seemed content to rally with Federer, and failed to lift his game at the times he most needed to. It's just plain self-injurious to go out and have a hitting contest with Federer, and suicidal to make lapses that in retrospect seem unforgiveable in light of the opponent.The most conspicuous one today was Djokovic's failure to hold when he was up a break at 4-2 in the first set. He served the next game and made a hash of it. "I think that's the worst game I played all match. Who knows? If I was 5-2 up, a lot of things can change. If you win a set, it's a big advantage. . .you could get the confidence. the opponent starts being a little confused, and gets out of the comfort zone."
Well put, but you'd think a player so cognizant of, and attuned to, the nuances would take extra care at a juncture like that. The only conclusion to draw is that Djokovic played far too soft, with too little desire or confidence. Still, the first set remained close, and you could almost boil the rest of the match down to two specific, nearly identical points where Djokovic again went soft - a pair backhands that Djokovic drove into the net.
In the first set tiebreaker, Federer lashed a furious forehand approach winner to score a mine-break on the very first point. Djokovic got it back, though, when Federer made a forehand error two points later. Djokovic held the next point for 2-2, but then Djokovic flubbed a routine rally backhand. In the blink of an eye, Federer was up 5-3, and he won the next two points after that.
In the second set, the backhand boner and its effect were more well concealed. The score was 15-all, with Djokovic serving, when he drilled the backhand into the net. When Federer won the next point, Djokovic was in a significant hole, 15-40. He teased two uncharacteristic errors out of Federer to wipe out the de facto set points, but expecting The Mighty Fed to make three or four consecutive errors is unrealistic. Djokovic struggled back and even had an game point, but a stone-cold forehand winner and a delightful, no-look backhand flick (it trickled along the netcord at a severe angle, and finally fell on Djokovic's side; Djokovic tried to dig out ball, but couldn't poke it back over) brought Federer to break point again; he converted with yet another of his trademark inside-out forehand winners.
This was as good an example of how a loose point, even at a seemingly safe time in any given game, can open the gate to disaster. With two sets in hand for Federer, the match was effectively over.
I've been a little troubled by Djokovic in recent times. He seems to be enjoying his life at the top, as if he's realized his ambitions and is happy to smell the roses. Sure, he's entitled, and it would be foolish to write him off. But this doesn't encourage you to view him as a threat to the status quo of which he is such a prominent part.
This complacency seems reflected in his game. Over time, that clean, streamlined, purposeful game has sprouted flourishes. He's swinging bigger, and with more conspicuous effort, than ever before. At times, it looks almost like he's evolving into what we're more likely to think of as a clay-court player, where two years ago his game had "hard courts" stamped all over it. Djokovic has grown increasingly loose-limbed, as if all the Grand Slam miles he's put on have loosened up the springs and shocks and nuts and bolts to the point where they rattle.
And Djokovic definitely pays the price for the wince-inducing way he retrieves wide balls to either wing, the squeal of his tires harsh as he comes skidding to a halt, putting enormous stress on his ankles, knees and thighs. He comes close to doing those splits that were once Kim Clijsters trademark, and you pay a higher price for such dramatic decellerations in the men's game.
The men, especially the top players, hit the ball with such force that skidding to a locked-up full stop, and then having to accelerate again for the next ball, is too time-consuming a process. The best hard-court players are nimble, and they either glide (Federer) or work double-time (Nadal) to avoid falling into any more of a stop-start pattern than necessary. You don't want to go zero-to-60 mph (and back down) over and over in tennis; you're better off maintaining good speed and accelerating - and braking - smoothly as required.
Delpo, incidentally, has calibrated his match-speed nicely - it's one of his assets. I think Djokovic might be well served going back and studying some film, the way football players do. He can watch himself, circa 2007, or Roger Federer, any old time.