What a Difference One Match Makes

The 2008 Davis Cup final, pitting perennial contender Spain against a strong Argentina squad, was to be the perfect finale to an amazing year—a year that saw two first-time Grand Slam champions hailing from the small nation of Serbia in Novak Djokovic and Ana Ivanovic; the first back-to-back French Open-Wimbledon winner on the men's side since Bjorn Borg and subsequent ascendancy by long-time #2 Rafael Nadal to the world #1 ranking; the resurgence of the Williams sisters, too long from the top of the game, competing for the Wimbledon title; the inevitable but still unexpected fall from the mountaintop of Roger Federer, who had dominated his sport for four years and 237 consecutive weeks; the slow and steady rise to the WTA #1 ranking by Jelena Jankevic, a woman who had yet to challenge for a Slam title; and the emergence of a slew of relative newcomers on both the women's and mens tour, all ready and eager to shake up the established pecking order.

Among these newcomers is Juan Martin Del Potro, a lanky giant of a man not yet of drinking age but full of promise. Del Potro went on a 23-match tear over the summer, garnering four straight titles along the way. So, when the Spanish team found itself after the Paris Masters Series event without its stalwart, world #1 Nadal, out with tendinitis of the knee, the Name Del Potro suddenly loomed ever larger. Alongside David Nalbandan, an already proven warrior known for his late-season heroics and fondness of indoor venues, Del Potro began to look like the guy who would help Team Argentina—four times a finalist without a Cup to show—achieve her destiny.

Friday, the first day of play, saw David Nalbandian take on David Ferrer in the first rubber and Del Potro battle with Feliciano Lopez in the second. Nalbandian secured the early lead for Argentina with a straight-sets win over Ferrer, and it looked as though the loss of Nadal and others to injury and the Argentine home-court advantage might be too much for a Spanish team that is otherwise deep in talent. Then a funny thing happened—Lopez knocked out Del Potro in four sets, two by tiebreak.

Suddenly, what seemed an inevitable 4-1 or 3-2 Argentina victory began to look like an upset was in the making. By evening up the score at 1-apiece, Spain goes into Day 2, the doubles, with the momentum and with confidence that the experienced and skillful doubles team of Lopez and Fernando Verdasco can put Spain out in front going into the third and final day.

In isolation, the Lopez win might not be so significant, but put into the context and flow of the Davis Cup format, it may very well turn out to be the deal-breaker (or sealer, if you've been betting on Spain all along). If he and Verdasco can win the doubles rubber, putting Argentina ahead 2-1 going into the last day's reverse singles matches, Spain will have to be considered the favorite, her odds greatly improved. Winning two straight singles matches on the final day is a daunting task, and one that will certainly cause the Argentine players to feel a great deal of pressure, given the pre-Cup expectations in the midst of Nadal's absence.

The Lopez singles win over Del Potro also has shown once again how crucial the doubles rubber is to a team's bid to win a Davis Cup title. It just cannot be overstated. Funny how Lopez figures in that one, too. We may just have a new Davis Cup hero by Sunday afternoon, and an unlikely one at that. A fitting end to an unpredictable year full of wondrous surprises.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: This material is copyrighted and may not be reprinted or reproduced without the express written or verbal consent of the author. Thank you for your cooperation.

The French Have Their Wine... We've Got James Blake!

I anticipated the coming of the Davis Cup tie to North Carolina with great excitement this year, as Team France looked to be a very formidable opponent, at least on paper. With Richard Gasquet currently at No. 10, the much improved Jo-Wilfried Tsonga at No. 13, Paul-Henri Mathieu at No. 12, and a host of accomplished doubles players, including Michael Llodra, Julien Benneteau, Arnaud Clement, and Fabrice Santoro, this was not a team to be taken lightly. In fact, this was a team that we might not even be able to take. Throw the wildly athletic Guy Monfils in there, and you've got all the elements of a high-wire carnival act.

So, I went online at 10:00am Eastern Time on March 17, as did thousands of others, to purchase my tickets for me and my older brother, Tom, who would be flying in to RDU International in Raleigh on Friday at around noon from his business trip in Kansas City. My first attempt to purchase the tickets through TicketMaster came up empty: I used the drop-down menus to select the "Best Available" seats "At Any Price" (big mistake!) and the Web application came back with $500 tickets. Great seats, I'm sure. But 500 bucks?! Try again.... So I tried the $190 option, but couldn't get two tickets together. Finally, fearing I'd never get anything, I tried the $90-per-seat option, and was successful. Unfortunately, I'd be in the Upper Section again, same as last year.

The good news is there really isn't a poor seat in the house—the Lawrence Joel Veterans Memorial Coliseum, also known as the Winston-Salem Entertainment-Sports Arena, home to the Wake Forest men's basketball team, the Demon Deacons. Steely Dan even wrote a song about them in the 70s. Check it out sometime. "They call me Deacon Blue...".

Anyway, I was getting seriously pumped up for some prime-time tennis with Andy Roddick, James Blake, and the twin towers, Bob and Mike Bryan. Then the bad news trickled in. First, Tsonga pulled out. Then a few days later, Gasquet is sidelined. Holy crap! What just happened? Thankfully I didn't put down 1,000 smackeroos or I'd be one angry baboon.

It's a testament to the depth and heart of the French team that they came out and played some awesome tennis without their two top guns. (Even though Mathieu is ranked one spot above Tsonga, most feel that Tsonga would be a stronger pick on the fast surface.)

On Friday, Mathieu nearly upset No. 8 Blake in a riveting, electrifying five-setter that, in the end, showcased Blake's defensive skills and fearless shotmaking. Down 5-4, 40-15 in the fifth set, Blake made a remarkable return off Mathieu's wide slice serve to the deuce court, which completely opened the court for a winner that was nullified when Blake flew across the baseline and knifed a backhand slice as fine as any I've ever seen in my forty years watching tennis. That save sent the crowd roaring with approval and chants of "U-S-A... U-S-A" and Blake seemed to puff up with confidence as he reeled off huge return after huge return to break Mathieu and get himself back in the match. From that point on, he was a monster, although it still did not come easy, as Mathieu clawed and fought as gamely as any competitor ever has on foreign soil in front of a boisterous home crowd. I don't think there's any argument that on that day Gasquet could not have fought any more gamely than his countryman Mathieu did.

Then, on Saturday, the French team of Llodra and Clement played tactically smart, heads-up tennis to take down the No. 1 doubles team in the world in four sets with the tie on the line. The Bryan brothers came into that match 14-1 in Davis Cup competition, and the doubles point was considered about as "automatic" as in the days of McEnroe-Fleming. That would be John McEnroe, of course. But those of you who know and follow tennis recall that Llodra-Clement had taken down the Bryans in the 2007 Wimbledon final. And Llodra-Benneteau had upset the Bryans in the Las Vegas final earlier this year. What's more, Llodra has captured two titles this year already. This would be anything but automatic.

Here's the way it unfolded, in a nutshell. Bob (the lefty) and Mike (the righty) lined up with their forehands in the center of the court when receiving. Llodra (the lefty) and Clement (the righty) lined up in the traditional formation (a la McEnroe-Fleming), with the lefty wing on the outside of the court covering the ad-court sideline and returning the wide serves with that big hook forehand. I turned to my brother and said that I thought the Bryans would try to serve down the middle and blanket the center, while Llodra and Clement would serve more wide slices and kickers to pull the Bryans off the court and force them to return from their relatively weaker wings, their backhands. As it turned out, this was mostly true, at least when Llodra and Clement were serving.

One factor that no one could have predicted is how well Clement served. Putting in 70% of his first deliveries was huge. As Clement told Justin Gimelstob in his post-match on court interview (and I paraphrase here): "I don't serve so big, so it's important for me to get a good percentage." It began with Clement serving at 3-4 in the first set, as the balls were changed and he served up new ones. With new balls in hand, he hit two aces and held at Love. From there on out, he never looked even remotely vulnerable on his serve. (Perhaps all the talk from partner Llodra about drinking expensive wines after the match kept him loose.) If there was another factor, it was that Clement and Llodra stepped up the power and aggression on their returns, starting in the third set. At one set apiece, they clearly and visibly made an adjustment, deciding to go for bigger returns and take more chances around the net, poaching and feigning whenever possible. In essence, they began looking a lot more like the Bryans than the Bryans. And it paid of in a mighty big way, as we all know.

It was extremely disappointing, though understandable, that the Bryan brothers did not stick around to speak with Gimelstob, whose interview style has gotten a lot more polished, despite the fact that he still looks a little goofy in a suit.

I sold my Sunday tickets to a good friend on the cheap, so that brother Tom and I could play tennis and hang out with my seven-year-old before we had to get to the airport, so I cannot comment on the Sunday matches. You can read the blog of TENNIS Magazine's Peter Bodo (TennisWorld) if you want a more complete breakdown of the weekend's matches.

Let me sign off by sharing this last nugget. I've seen three Davis Cup ties now (2001 versus India, 2007 versus Spain, and 2008 versus France, all in Winston-Salem), and one thing remains constant: expect the unexpected. Look for Andy Roddick and James Blake to each win once, and for the Bryans to tie the winning record of McEnroe and Fleming, on the crushed red brick in Spain.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This material is copyrighted and may not be reprinted or reproduced without the express written or verbal consent of the author. Thank you for your cooperation.

Davis Cup, North Carolina Style (Day 1)

The last time North Carolina hosted the Davis Cup was in 2001, when the U.S. squad defeated India to stay in the World Group. On April 6, 2007, the USTA and Captain Patrick McEnroe brought the American squad back to Winston-Salem to use a home-court advantage against the perennially successful Spaniards.

Winston-Salem, at one time most recognized as the home of R.J. Reynolds Co. and the birthplace of famous cigarette brands such as Winston and Salem, is now a cozy town known for its Wake Forest University basketball and the world-renowned Bowman-Grey Medical Center. It's situated about two hours due west of the state capital, Raleigh, along a stretch of Interstate 40 that is just plain weird. Between Durham and Winston-Salem are towns like Burlington, with its many factory-direct shops, its factory irregulars, and its china replacement megastore; Greensboro, which is best remembered for its clash between some members of the Ku Klux Klan and the Communist Party, which ended in a police intervention and several dead; and High Point, former world center of furniture (it's quickly being eclipsed by the big monied and convention-friendly Las Vegas). Also along the road to Winston-Salem, you'll find such oddities as a Dockside Dolls strip joint sharing a parking lot with a Life Fellowship Baptist church. Actually, in North Carolina, that's not all that odd.

The Davis Cup tie is being held at the Lawrence Joel Veterans Memorial Coliseum, where the Demon Deacons play basketball. It seats about 14,500, and we've got a full house. The event sold out in three days.

The Demon Deacs, as they're called by the locals, used to hail from a small hamlet just north of Raleigh on N.C. Route 1 called Wake Forest. It began as a seminary, and when the school grew into a college, it relocated to Winston-Salem. Wake Forest still has the seminary, now called the Southeastern Baptist Seminary, a quaint campus on a hill of orange brick buildings in the Classical Revival style, I believe. I forgot to mention that this part of North Carolina, known as the Piedmont, is also known for its red clay soil and consequently its brick manufacturing.

I arrive at the coliseum, which is smack dab in the middle of nowhere — actually, it's part of the fairgrounds — a bit early to see what I can take in. Apparently, not early enough to catch Andy Roddick's practice session, but early enough to meet a home-grown celebrity of sorts — Elizabeth "Lizzie" Horton, Miss North Carolina. Lizzie, tiara and all, hails from High Point and is there to sing the National Anthem. She's a cute, pixie-like young woman who claims to have played on her high school tennis team. She's enrolled at Johns Hopkins University, and has a dual major in vocal performance and something or other. Later, after she has belted out the Star Spangled Banner, I find her soaking in the action through my binoculars.

Next I watch Fernando Verdasco practice. He's got good wheels (must be a Spanish thing, because they all do), a huge roundhouse forehand, and a solid, flat two-handed backhand. He can blast a flat first serve, which is dart-like but doesn't look as heavy as Blake's or Roddick's, of course. I'm a bit surprised by his volleys, however. He seems to get a late start with his footwork, and often lets his elbow collapse behind him on his forehand wing. A decent teaching pro would make him drill endlessly until he learned to keep that elbow in front of his belly button.

I'm in the Upper Level, Section 213, Row P, Seat 1. It's only a half-dozen rows below the roof line, but there's not a bad seat in the house, except the first three rows of the Upper Level, which are partially obstructed by a metal rail and a translucent plexiglas.

Before the action starts, I go to get my requisite hot dog, peanuts and tasteless beer, where I spot a couple of young guys juggling plastic bowling pins. They're sending them back and forth in a rapid volley, and have perfected an impressive move in which, while facing each other, one guy flips a pin around his leg while the other flips it between his legs. I show them the Roddick 'Tweener, and will check back today and Sunday to see if they've mastered it. I promise a picture if they do.

I get back to my seat in time to see the next pre-match activity, the Calypso Tumblers. This group of five black performers does amazing things with their bodies, and thoroughly entertains the crowd. I wonder, though, why the USTA doesn't come up with some sort of traveling tennis show, either with kids or with a small troupe of athletes that could showcase some of the exciting things we're about to witness, except in a super-lively, acrobatic manner a la Ringling Brothers or Harlem Globetrotters.

Next, the teams are introduced. The Spanish captain has decided to put Tommy Robredo and Fernando Verdasco in the singles, while Captain McEnroe goes with his two studs, Roddick and James Blake. The twin towers, Bob and Mike Bryan, wil take on Verdasco and Feliciano Lopez, who I must say is not as handsome in person as he is pretty.

The play itself is a bit pedestrian on this day, I think, except for Blake's performance. James comes out fired up and ready to play in the first match, looking a bit like Nadal as he bounces on his toes and then dashes back to the baseline to start the warm-up. You can sense that he's hungry for a win; God only knows he needs one.

Robredo is silky smooth, with his relaxed and easy strokes off both sides. As the match wears on, though, I notice that Disco Tommy is never able to really crank it up when needed. He hurts you mostly with his disguise. He has the classic windshield-wiper forehand, and in his case he never ever breaks his wrist. He cocks it back and up, and it stays rigid throughout the stroke, hence he is not able to get that extra bit of leverage, or pop, from a good wrist snap. Robredo doesn't really extend toward the target on either side; his racquet path is perfectly circular. I think that's his weakness. That, and the fact that, despite his quickness, he doesn't play a very good defensive game on this day. He's far better off when dictating play and his opponent is on the run and guessing which way the ball will come next. At that he is pure genius.

Robredo won the toss and elected to receive. Despite frittering away a 40-love lead on serve at 3 games apiece, Blake fights for his hold and breaks Robredo at 5-4 to take the first set. And that is essentially the match, as Blake overpowered Robredo time and again with his serve and forehand on the slick, rubberized surface. Robredo's first serve is actually quite good, but he made the mistake of going to Blake's forehand a few too many times; his second delivery lacks the power or kick (at least on this seemingly deadening surface) to hurt anyone.

To his credit, James held his errors to a minimum, and he used his head well, rarely playing a numbskulled shot or going for broke too early, as he is prone to do. I was impressed with his performance, as was the packed house who cheered him wildly. One thing about Davis Cup that is unlike any other tennis match, is that it's alright to cheer the opposing team's error and to be unashamedly biased. It's a weird departure for me, but I get into costume quickly. The most effective ploy the home crowd can employ is to remain utterly silent when an opposing player makes a good play. It must be feel terribly lonely out there.

Next up, Roddick and Verdasco. This kid Verdasco, ranked number 35, is a terrific athlete, but his swagger is too evident, even from Section 213, Row P. It's not wise to strut around in Roddick's face; it just makes him angry. Verdasco actually played a brilliant first set; well, almost. He was up 5-3 and blew it, seving an ace, two double faults, another ace, then shanking a forehand into the stands behind Roddick, and finally missing wide with a forehand down the line. That's all Roddick needed to make it clear Verdasco was a lot more swagger than he was confident and capable. Roddick never looked back. And despite having a very nice first serve — he ended up with 14 aces — Verdasco double-faulted often and seemed to wilt when it counted most. For his part, Roddick didn't play brilliantly, and seemed to be content roaming the backcourt some six to eight feet behind the baseline. He needs to step up for his forehand to be the weapon it can be.

Other notable attractions were the brass band that played loudly and often, a Blake contingent in the Upper Level that were all wearing blue and had some makeshift drums, and a large band of Spanish hopefuls in red behind their team. Every time they tried to whoop it up and make some noise with their cow bells and rattles, the PA system would drown them out with some American rock'n'roll.

There's a strong contingent from Raleigh, and I will try to get a few pictures. I did run into a small group from Down East — the Greenville, Wilson, Rocky Mount area, and hope to see them again on Day 2.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This material is copyrighted and may not be reprinted or reproduced without the express written or verbal consent of the author. Thank you for your cooperation.