As Rafael Nadal readied to serve to Roger Federer for the 2008 Wimbledon title at 8-7 in the fifth set, the light finally faded to the point of no return. Nadal would serve into the void. Roger Federer would stab at a barely visible blur. This is what it came to: the greatest men’s Grand Slam final match since the 1980 Borg v. McEnroe classic, decided on account of darkness.
The man who had been swathed in the warm light of fan and peer adulation for going on five years was no longer stage-center. His rival for the past three years emerged from behind the curtain and was suddenly bathed in the bright white light of flashbulbs bursting like celebratory fireworks. A new world champion had taken his place at center stage.
The fade and flash of light was a fitting portent to this marked milestone in the careers of two of the greatest players ever to step onto the grass at Centre Court—symbolic of each man’s evolution. Exiting the stage was Federer, five-time Wimbledon champion and owner of 12 Grand Slam titles—the undisputed world #1 for more than four consecutive years. In his place a proud new champion who had stood in the wings for three years, biding his time and biting the neck of every trophy he collected in a gesture that underscored his insatiable hunger.
Federer’s rise is an example of organic evolution. A world champion in the juniors, as a young pro he displayed virtuoso talent as well as a diva-like quality, which showed in his frustration over his own less-than-perfect performances. Once he learned to quell the perfectionist within, his talent allowed him to blossom into a rare star—colorful yet traditional, shy yet confident, powerful yet controlled, graceful yet wildly ambitious. Seventeen Grand Slam starts after turning pro, he finally “emerged” one month shy of 22 with his first Wimbledon crown, a rather long draught for such a promising player.
Another 17 Slams later, Federer had amassed 12 titles—three times winning three Slams in one calendar year—a dominance not seen among the men in the Open era, and not seen at all since Steffi Graf won eight of nine Slam titles between the 1988 and 1990 Australian Opens and 10 of 11 Slams between the 1993 French Open and 1996 U.S. Open.
Federer’s descent from the pinnacle of greatness has been like that of a falling star, which catches our gaze and keeps us transfixed. It arguably began with his back-to-back losses in 2007 to Argentine Guillermo Canas, who had just returned to the tour from a two-year doping suspension. Those two losses exposed Federer’s Achilles heel. His next notable loss would come in the semifinal of the 2008 Australian Open to Novak Djokovic, the Serbian player who often comes across as too full of himself. There’s never been any love lost between these two, and that loss took its toll.
Andy Roddick was next up to bat, and he defeated Federer at the Miami masters event in the quarterfinals, Federer’s first meaningful loss to Roddick in 12 matches. The way Federer lost was so uncharacteristic that it made one wonder whether he had lost something else beside his invincibility, his magic. With a chance to hold at 3-4 in the third set, Federer hit four first serves in play and shanked or buried four straight groundstrokes to hand the balls over to Andy to serve it out, which he gladly obliged.
It was discovered that Federer may have been suffering from mononucleosis in Melbourne. He took on Jose Higueras, who coached Jim Courier to two French Open titles, to help him gear-up for a run at Roland Garros, and he spent a good part of the spring season battling the lingering effects of the mono to build his strength for that run—a strategy many questioned.
Nadal’s ascendancy, and despite the computer rankings still showing Federer hanging on at the top he has clearly ascended, has been a long time coming also, but with three straight years as the world #2 it is more of a breakout than a coming out. Just the way in which he has assumed the mantel is impressive.
After defending his titles in Barcelona and Hamburg in the European clay-court run-up to Roland Garros, Nadal put the hammer down on the competition in Paris, not dropping a set on his way to the highly anticipated final against Federer. From the first game with Federer serving, Nadal got his rival in a vise and never let up, beating him for the third straight year, this time convincingly. It was the second most lopsided score in a Slam final in the Open era—6-1, 6-3, 6-0.
That drubbing of the world #1 was the match that propelled Nadal to the top of the tour, in the eyes of his peers and those in the know, if not by the logic of the ATP computer. He went into the Wimbledon tune-ups brimming with confidence, and took the title at Queen’s Club in three tiebreak sets, despite being aced 35 times by big-serving Croatian, Ivo Karlovic.
By mid-June, the storyline heard most was that Federer would prevail on what had virtually become his “home court” for a sixth straight crown, surpassing Bjorn Borg’s record. The story heard almost as often was that Nadal would seize this one from his friend and rival, also putting him in legion with Borg, who is the last man to win the French and Wimbledon back to back. Borg himself was one of those who picked Nadal to win. There couldn’t have been a more highly anticipated event in tennis, if not in all of sport.
So there they were, with the light fading fast, two warriors battling it out for ultimate bragging rights, for the record books, and for personal pride. The match should have been called due to darkness. But there’s no chance it would have been, not with a full house and millions of viewers tuning in late in the evening on the final Sunday to see the best in men’s tennis duel in the dying sun. To suspend play would have been the worst way to end the day and the championships. There would be no escape hatch, no exit.
And at that pivotal juncture in the match, serving at 7-7 after having rebounded from two-sets down by winning the next two sets in tiebreaks, Federer faltered. Perhaps he had a moment of doubt, or as we like to say, the yips. But he lost his nerve and his serve, and Nadal would serve for the match in the dark. Facing a nearly insurmountable task, and knowing that the referee and tournament director were not inclined to suspend play, Federer seemed to merely fade away, as an actor on a stage might back away from the dimming spotlight, ghostlike. His joie de vivre had finally left him, there on the court that had brought him his glory and fulfilled his potential as the most gifted tennis player the sport has seen. It was a sad moment.
So, perhaps it is fitting that on the last day of July in the sweltering heat of Cincinnati, home of the Bengals and Reds, the champion of cool and control went down in defeat to a player he’d never lost to before, the big man who brings the heat on serve after serve, 6’10” Karlovic—the same man whose 35 aces could not pierce the armor of Nadal just a month earlier on grass. Federer’s loss to Karlovic symbolically ushers in the august of this champion’s Hall of Fame career.
A champion’s time is limited in sport, and in tennis that window is becoming increasingly narrow. It is no longer a given, as it was just a few short months ago, that Federer will surpass Pete Sampras’s Grand Slam title count. Federer won his first Slam title just shy of 22; and at 27 he may have won his last.
It is the natural order of things: the guiding light from a star fades as the searing heat of the sun ascends to take its place. Nadal’s sun has risen. The question is: how long will it burn?
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.
Showing posts with label The Grand Slam Stage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Grand Slam Stage. Show all posts
Friday, August 01, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
By the Content of Their Characters
The 2008 Wimbledon men’s final, pitting the world’s top two players in a 4-hour, 48-minute rain-delayed marathon that was completed under the threat of darkness, had all the elements of an instant classic—a pageantry of athleticism on a field of grass colored by incredible shotmaking and momentum swings from two rivals who have played more Grand Slam finals (6) than any of the other notable rivalries in the Open era.
Like the great rivalries of the past 40 years, the Federer-Nadal match-up was as much a demonstration of contrasting personalities as it was a display of opposing playing styles. Looking back at the epic Open-era match-ups, the differences in their styles of play were equaled or surpassed by the contrasts in their character. And these contrasts in character are what make great drama—elevating an athletic contest to the level of operatic theatre, complete with villains and heroes, inborn character flaws and personal redemption.
In Laver v. Rosewall, we had the self-assured risk-taker against the even-keeled rock of patience and precision. In that historic 1975 Wimbledon final between the veteran Arthur Ashe and Jimmy Connors, who was at the height of his powers, we witnessed intelligence and wisdom facing off against youthful overconfidence. In Connors v. Borg the swaggering street fighter went toe-to-toe with the steely Swede of unbending will and unerring defense. Borg and McEnroe opened a lens into the breaking of that will under the constant pressure of the quick-thrusting touches of the temperamental red-head with the acid tongue. McEnroe and Lendl was nitroglycerin meeting oxygen; the off-court animosity between them as great as the on-court pyrotechnics. Sampras v. Agassi demonstrated how power can be blunted but never fully denied when the will exists to overcome those insuppressible moments of self-doubt.
In Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, we have two of the most distinctive personalities ever to play the game.
Federer is metro-man, the worldly Swiss who is fluent in three or four languages and who cuts as dashing a figure in his cardigan or gold-embroidered jacket as in an Armani suit. But behind that polished, poised exterior is a man driven by passion and ambition. He is Clark Kent, the mild-mannered reporter for The Daily Planet who swiftly transforms into a superhero by donning his tennis sneakers.
Nadal is less refined, a simple man from a small island village in Spain, an earthly savage with a halting gait who speaks, when he is prodded, in clipped sentences. His is the more imposing physique, with thick thighs and bursting biceps. He is the beast that lies beneath the surface of this modern-day Bruce Banner, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation—like a raging Hulk. Yet his outward appearance belies an innate intelligence and a gentle wit.
Propelling these two warriors is the unspoken truth of Nadal’s ambition to unseat Federer, which is matched only by Federer’s desire to remain there. So it was that this year’s Wimbledon final would answer the question of who reigns supreme as the world’s best player. Nevermind the points race; with his fourth straight French Open trophy already perched on a shelf in his Mallorcan villa, Nadal has momentarily wrested the title of World #1 from the five-time and defending Wimbledon champion.
We watch their Grand Slam rivalry to learn what each man is made of, what is at the core of their characters.
This much we know: Nadal has shown repeatedly that he is incapable of losing. Like Borg before him, he can come from behind to snatch victory out of the hands of a stunned opponent or break his foe’s will in the early going, rendering the outcome a foregone conclusion. Yes, he can be beaten, he can be bested. But he has yet to succumb to the yips, to shrink out of fear or self-doubt. He seems hard-wired for the psychologically charged one-on-one battle, as if the only thought to enter his head is to fight and to keep fighting until the last ball has been struck. This is a most rare and special gift among tennis players.
Federer’s gift is found in his unique skills—his talents. He has grace and speed, agility and balance, out-of-sight hand-eye coordination and other-worldly racquet skills. He can win against nearly all odds. He is rarely if ever beaten. But he can lose. He occasionally gets the yips, and sometimes appears to unravel at the seams.
Despite Nadal’s winning the French Open and Wimbledon back to back, there are questions that remain unanswered.
Are there built-in character flaws that will keep Nadal from seizing hold of this opportunity to finish the year as the number one player in the world? Or will his Wimbledon win boost his confidence and propel him to new heights? What about Federer? Can he rebound from two huge defeats at the hands of the same man—the first a complete and utter knockout and the latter an epic battle of wills, of character, that may or may not have revealed a chink in his armor?
Did the mononucleosis that hampered Federer through the first few months of the year have an affect on his will to compete? Or did he overcome it in time to get his game in tune for the hard court season? Will he bounce back from his Wimbledon loss to take the U.S. Open and put to rest any doubts about who is still the best player on all surfaces, day in and day out? Will Nadal’s knees be able to withstand the hard court grind? And if so, would winning a shootout with his rival in the U.S. Open final settle things for once and for all, or would it merely enhance the already legendary status of this rivalry?
Whatever the outcome of the hard court season, we an be sure of one thing: it will test these men’s characters. Two men now carry targets on their backs, and each will be faced with unprecedented pressures, from themselves, their opposition and the media. We will learn what makes each man tick, and what chinks their characters may contain.
So, we’ll watch wide-eyed as the weeks unfold and the tension builds, in hopes of learning which man can summon the inner beast or superhero when all the chips are on the table and the last hand is dealt. It’s a rivalry for the history books, yet like those others before it is compelling because of the personalities and the characters of the two men entwined.
Characters welcome.
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.
Like the great rivalries of the past 40 years, the Federer-Nadal match-up was as much a demonstration of contrasting personalities as it was a display of opposing playing styles. Looking back at the epic Open-era match-ups, the differences in their styles of play were equaled or surpassed by the contrasts in their character. And these contrasts in character are what make great drama—elevating an athletic contest to the level of operatic theatre, complete with villains and heroes, inborn character flaws and personal redemption.
In Laver v. Rosewall, we had the self-assured risk-taker against the even-keeled rock of patience and precision. In that historic 1975 Wimbledon final between the veteran Arthur Ashe and Jimmy Connors, who was at the height of his powers, we witnessed intelligence and wisdom facing off against youthful overconfidence. In Connors v. Borg the swaggering street fighter went toe-to-toe with the steely Swede of unbending will and unerring defense. Borg and McEnroe opened a lens into the breaking of that will under the constant pressure of the quick-thrusting touches of the temperamental red-head with the acid tongue. McEnroe and Lendl was nitroglycerin meeting oxygen; the off-court animosity between them as great as the on-court pyrotechnics. Sampras v. Agassi demonstrated how power can be blunted but never fully denied when the will exists to overcome those insuppressible moments of self-doubt.
In Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, we have two of the most distinctive personalities ever to play the game.
Federer is metro-man, the worldly Swiss who is fluent in three or four languages and who cuts as dashing a figure in his cardigan or gold-embroidered jacket as in an Armani suit. But behind that polished, poised exterior is a man driven by passion and ambition. He is Clark Kent, the mild-mannered reporter for The Daily Planet who swiftly transforms into a superhero by donning his tennis sneakers.
Nadal is less refined, a simple man from a small island village in Spain, an earthly savage with a halting gait who speaks, when he is prodded, in clipped sentences. His is the more imposing physique, with thick thighs and bursting biceps. He is the beast that lies beneath the surface of this modern-day Bruce Banner, waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation—like a raging Hulk. Yet his outward appearance belies an innate intelligence and a gentle wit.
Propelling these two warriors is the unspoken truth of Nadal’s ambition to unseat Federer, which is matched only by Federer’s desire to remain there. So it was that this year’s Wimbledon final would answer the question of who reigns supreme as the world’s best player. Nevermind the points race; with his fourth straight French Open trophy already perched on a shelf in his Mallorcan villa, Nadal has momentarily wrested the title of World #1 from the five-time and defending Wimbledon champion.
We watch their Grand Slam rivalry to learn what each man is made of, what is at the core of their characters.
This much we know: Nadal has shown repeatedly that he is incapable of losing. Like Borg before him, he can come from behind to snatch victory out of the hands of a stunned opponent or break his foe’s will in the early going, rendering the outcome a foregone conclusion. Yes, he can be beaten, he can be bested. But he has yet to succumb to the yips, to shrink out of fear or self-doubt. He seems hard-wired for the psychologically charged one-on-one battle, as if the only thought to enter his head is to fight and to keep fighting until the last ball has been struck. This is a most rare and special gift among tennis players.
Federer’s gift is found in his unique skills—his talents. He has grace and speed, agility and balance, out-of-sight hand-eye coordination and other-worldly racquet skills. He can win against nearly all odds. He is rarely if ever beaten. But he can lose. He occasionally gets the yips, and sometimes appears to unravel at the seams.
Despite Nadal’s winning the French Open and Wimbledon back to back, there are questions that remain unanswered.
Are there built-in character flaws that will keep Nadal from seizing hold of this opportunity to finish the year as the number one player in the world? Or will his Wimbledon win boost his confidence and propel him to new heights? What about Federer? Can he rebound from two huge defeats at the hands of the same man—the first a complete and utter knockout and the latter an epic battle of wills, of character, that may or may not have revealed a chink in his armor?
Did the mononucleosis that hampered Federer through the first few months of the year have an affect on his will to compete? Or did he overcome it in time to get his game in tune for the hard court season? Will he bounce back from his Wimbledon loss to take the U.S. Open and put to rest any doubts about who is still the best player on all surfaces, day in and day out? Will Nadal’s knees be able to withstand the hard court grind? And if so, would winning a shootout with his rival in the U.S. Open final settle things for once and for all, or would it merely enhance the already legendary status of this rivalry?
Whatever the outcome of the hard court season, we an be sure of one thing: it will test these men’s characters. Two men now carry targets on their backs, and each will be faced with unprecedented pressures, from themselves, their opposition and the media. We will learn what makes each man tick, and what chinks their characters may contain.
So, we’ll watch wide-eyed as the weeks unfold and the tension builds, in hopes of learning which man can summon the inner beast or superhero when all the chips are on the table and the last hand is dealt. It’s a rivalry for the history books, yet like those others before it is compelling because of the personalities and the characters of the two men entwined.
Characters welcome.
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.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Aussie Open 2007: Federer will raise the bar again
In just over 30 minutes, Roger Federer will attempt to defend his Australian Open title against one of the most enigmatic players in the men's game today — Fernando Gonzalez. Along with Serena Williams' long-awaited return to tennis and her masterful title match against top-ranked Maria Sharapova, Gonzalez has been the story at this year's championships in Melbourne.
He has cruised through his half of the draw in blazing style, beating in succession James Blake, Rafael Nadal, and Tomy Haas, all in straight sets. His winners-to-unforced errors differential is over +190, more than 100 points better than Federer's, and in his semifinal match against Haas he made only three unforced errors in the entire three-set match, none at all in sets one and three. To say Gonzalez is on fire would be a huge understatement. And yet, it is Roger Federer he will be facing across the net this morning, a fact which changes the entire equation.
Ordinarily not one to predict outcomes, I've got a sneaking suspicion that Federer will show the world just how much wider the gap is between himself and the rest of the men's field. Because Gonzalez is playing so brilliantly, serving smartly and using the entire court and varying the spins, depth and pace of his groundstrokes to make opportunities to end points with one swing of his racquet, Federer will need to employ a different strategy to keep Gonzalez from gaining confidence as the match wears on. I believe that Federer will take a page from the Sampras playbook, and take away Gonzalez's time by approaching the net earlier and much more frequently than he has thus far in his career.
The wise strategy for Federer is to keep Gonzalez on his heels, searching for a quick answer to Federer's strong forays to net, and to do so early and often so as to put maximum pressure on Gonzalez's groundstrokes. By coming to the net early and often, Federer can prohibit Gonzalez from finding his form on his groundstrokes and dictating the pace and tempo of the match. And if Gonzalez cannot find the spot with his passing shots and lobs early on, he will be forced to play a much more aggressive strategy, perhaps even choosing to try to beat Federer to the net to stem the bleeding.
We may very well witness, in this 2007 Australian Open men's final, the raising of the bar by the world's best player. And he'll do it, not so much because he'll need to do so to win, but because it will bring him victory much sooner than if he were to stay on the baseline and trade strokes with his opponent. And if he can successfully demonstrate his prowess as a serving-and-volleying, net-aproaching pre-emptive striker, he'll have sent another strong message to those trying to "close the gap" between them. And that message is that Roger Federer has no intention of resting on his laurels; he plans to continue improving and adding to his arsenal of weapons, strategies and tactics.
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.
He has cruised through his half of the draw in blazing style, beating in succession James Blake, Rafael Nadal, and Tomy Haas, all in straight sets. His winners-to-unforced errors differential is over +190, more than 100 points better than Federer's, and in his semifinal match against Haas he made only three unforced errors in the entire three-set match, none at all in sets one and three. To say Gonzalez is on fire would be a huge understatement. And yet, it is Roger Federer he will be facing across the net this morning, a fact which changes the entire equation.
Ordinarily not one to predict outcomes, I've got a sneaking suspicion that Federer will show the world just how much wider the gap is between himself and the rest of the men's field. Because Gonzalez is playing so brilliantly, serving smartly and using the entire court and varying the spins, depth and pace of his groundstrokes to make opportunities to end points with one swing of his racquet, Federer will need to employ a different strategy to keep Gonzalez from gaining confidence as the match wears on. I believe that Federer will take a page from the Sampras playbook, and take away Gonzalez's time by approaching the net earlier and much more frequently than he has thus far in his career.
The wise strategy for Federer is to keep Gonzalez on his heels, searching for a quick answer to Federer's strong forays to net, and to do so early and often so as to put maximum pressure on Gonzalez's groundstrokes. By coming to the net early and often, Federer can prohibit Gonzalez from finding his form on his groundstrokes and dictating the pace and tempo of the match. And if Gonzalez cannot find the spot with his passing shots and lobs early on, he will be forced to play a much more aggressive strategy, perhaps even choosing to try to beat Federer to the net to stem the bleeding.
We may very well witness, in this 2007 Australian Open men's final, the raising of the bar by the world's best player. And he'll do it, not so much because he'll need to do so to win, but because it will bring him victory much sooner than if he were to stay on the baseline and trade strokes with his opponent. And if he can successfully demonstrate his prowess as a serving-and-volleying, net-aproaching pre-emptive striker, he'll have sent another strong message to those trying to "close the gap" between them. And that message is that Roger Federer has no intention of resting on his laurels; he plans to continue improving and adding to his arsenal of weapons, strategies and tactics.
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.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Aussie Open 2007: The lioness roars back!
It wasn't a particularly good match. It had few decent exchanges, and zero suspense. Calling it "one-sided" would be like saying the lion had a bit of an advantage over the young zebra colt. But as Grand Slam finals go, this one stood out for its ferociousness, for the efficiency of the kill.
No, it wasn't a competitive match, but every so often a player of Serena Williams' caliber steps onto one of the grandest stages in the game and delivers. And how did she deliver! Knock-out blow after knock-out blow to a stunned and helpless Maria Sharapova, the same Maria who came into the Australian Open championships as the world's second-ranked player and who will leave Melbourne ranked number one.
Serena Williams came into the Slam of Asia-Pacific ranked number 81 in the world and out of shape with too little match play under her belt. But the seven-time Grand Slam titleist would not be denied. After surviving near-tournament-ending challenges from Nadia Petrova and Shahar Peer, as well as the power and fearlessness of the young 17-year-old, Nicole Vaidisova, Serena roared back onto tennis' center stage. There was one moment in her victory over Peer when Serena, after having won a tough and important point, let out a throaty, full-toothed yell. In the slo-mo replay, she resembled more closely a panther announcing a fresh kill than a pretty, young woman from LA.
Throughout her final under the closed roof of Rod Laver Arena, Serena showed her opponent and the world the hungry heart of a lioness. And what a way to win. She made nearly three times as many winners as unforced errors, and beat Sharapova again and again with just a single stroke, leaving the usually fierce Sharapova flat-footed and demoralized. Finally serving for the match right at the hour mark, Serena hit back-to-back aces to earn a championship point at 6-1, 5-2 (40-love). She missed her first serve, a flat blast, wide of the ad court sideline, and at that point I had a notion that she might try to go for a second service ace up the middle. Sure enough, she went for the ace up the T, but had to settle for a weak return and easy winner to seal the victory.
This wasn't a match to be remembered for its swings in momentum, its pressure-filled break points denied, or its long, suspenseful exchanges from doubles alley to doubles alley. This was a match that will be remembered as the return of the game's most ferociuos competitor. We can only hope that her hunger is great enough to keep her in the game for a few more years. Tennis has its lion in Roger Federer. It needs its lioness, too.
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.
No, it wasn't a competitive match, but every so often a player of Serena Williams' caliber steps onto one of the grandest stages in the game and delivers. And how did she deliver! Knock-out blow after knock-out blow to a stunned and helpless Maria Sharapova, the same Maria who came into the Australian Open championships as the world's second-ranked player and who will leave Melbourne ranked number one.
Serena Williams came into the Slam of Asia-Pacific ranked number 81 in the world and out of shape with too little match play under her belt. But the seven-time Grand Slam titleist would not be denied. After surviving near-tournament-ending challenges from Nadia Petrova and Shahar Peer, as well as the power and fearlessness of the young 17-year-old, Nicole Vaidisova, Serena roared back onto tennis' center stage. There was one moment in her victory over Peer when Serena, after having won a tough and important point, let out a throaty, full-toothed yell. In the slo-mo replay, she resembled more closely a panther announcing a fresh kill than a pretty, young woman from LA.
Throughout her final under the closed roof of Rod Laver Arena, Serena showed her opponent and the world the hungry heart of a lioness. And what a way to win. She made nearly three times as many winners as unforced errors, and beat Sharapova again and again with just a single stroke, leaving the usually fierce Sharapova flat-footed and demoralized. Finally serving for the match right at the hour mark, Serena hit back-to-back aces to earn a championship point at 6-1, 5-2 (40-love). She missed her first serve, a flat blast, wide of the ad court sideline, and at that point I had a notion that she might try to go for a second service ace up the middle. Sure enough, she went for the ace up the T, but had to settle for a weak return and easy winner to seal the victory.
This wasn't a match to be remembered for its swings in momentum, its pressure-filled break points denied, or its long, suspenseful exchanges from doubles alley to doubles alley. This was a match that will be remembered as the return of the game's most ferociuos competitor. We can only hope that her hunger is great enough to keep her in the game for a few more years. Tennis has its lion in Roger Federer. It needs its lioness, too.
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.
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