By Bill Simons
It doesn’t get much better than this. “This is no middleweight tussle,” says the barker out on Garden Square. “This is a heavyweight battle, all the way.”
Meanwhile, in the bowels of Rod Laver Arena, there is a bit of a hush. The “players lounge,” once so crowded, is almost empty and rather silent, until Li Na strolls in and, of course, beams and makes a joke, while her much-maligned husband tags along, carrying a small basket of balls. Mary Joe Fernandez swoops by, followed by Jim Courier in his usual suit, which is only slightly disheveled.
Then another familiar face, Sweden’s Jonas Bjorkman, strolls by. Beaming, he teases his Canadian pal. “Sticking around for the mixed doubles. Never want to miss an opportunity when cash is involved, that’s Danny Nestor.”
Similarly, fans about the grounds are not missing the opportunity to fly their colors. Clearly, the upcoming Rafa vs. Roger Aussie Open semi is dividing families. By the Snag Bar Sausage stand, two daughters from an Indian family based in Sydney have plenty of red-and-gold Spanish face paint. “Vamos Rafa!” they call. But their mother dissents, shrieking, “FEDERER, FEDERER!” Dianne and Dan Deponey from Canberra are draped in opposing flags.
In the media cafeteria, one worker says, “There is so much history, there is so much psychology here.”
“Yes,” interrupts another. “I want Rafa to win, but I just can’t go against Roger.”
A leading American journalist asks me for my call. I say, “It’s close, Rafa in five.” He replies, “That’s about right—we’ll see.”
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Tonight’s semifinal was unique. On court was the supreme artist, the Magnificent Federer, elegant as ever. If a God can be reborn, this would be Roger. Energized by a new racket, a new coach, and a new level of fitness, Roger clearly was moving with an almost giddy freedom and playing his best ball in years. Andy Murray had returned to Melbourne after back surgery, but it was Federer who more fully rebounded from a problematic back, not to mention a long stretch of indifferent, almost inexplicable play.
Of course, across the net was his supreme nemesis, Rafa Nadal. The man who was sidelined a year ago, only to storm back to the top.
Before us were arguably the two best players of all time, in a sublime rivalry with sweet contrasts. The right-handed Federer versus the southpaw Nadal, the beautiful artist with that flowing one-handed backhand vs. the bold Spanish brawler with his two-handed laser backhand and imposing topspin forehand.
A once-in-a-lifetime supporting cast was also on hand, including—in the President’s Reserve—none other than Rod Laver and Pete Sampras. How incredible, the four best players of all time (55 Slams’ worth) in the same house.Not to menton Federer’s coach, Stefan Edberg, as well as Aussie Ken Rosewall, plus on-court interviewer Jim Courier.
Sure, the Laver Arena roof got jammed, but our imagination soared. One thought, “Let’s get ready to rumble.” A leading Aussie broadcaster said, “I am salivating at the prospect of an outstanding match.” “History’s watching,” announced a French observer.
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Alas, here’s the sad truth: The semifinal, while intriguing, ultimately was less than outstanding, a bit of a dud.
Yes, Federer has done a stunning job at recreating himself. And, rather boldly, he tried to take the ball early, be aggressive, and bravely—sometimes futilely—charge the net. But to what effect?
Yes, early on he played with some belief and noteworthy urgency, saving three break points in the first set. But it was as if he were paddling madly just to maintain. He put no real pressure on Rafa’s serve, and didn’t gain a single break point of his own until well into the third set.
Most of all, in the critical first set tie-break—where the match was clearly going to be shaped, if not outright decided—the younger, more athletic, more confident Nadal proved he, not the error-prone Federer, was the better game manager and player. The No. 1 seed pushed the No. 6 back and had him on the run, playing defense. Rafa swept to a commanding 5-1 tiebreak lead, and after a rare lapse, watched as yet another Federer backhand missed the mark, a flub which gave him the breaker and set, 7-6 (4).
Yes, the match went on to feature many lengthy rallies of wonder and beauty. (During one, in a feat of broadcasting wizardry, Craig Willis actually managed to note, “This is the longest rally of the match so far, and in this time the value of my house has gone up considerably.”)
Yes, aesthetically, there was many a Federerian pleasure to relish, as a world-wide audience again saw the most beautiful game of any champion on display. But after he dropped the first-set tiebreak, Roger’s chances to win were modest. When he finally broke Nadal’s serve in the third set, it was more a gallant last hurrah than a serious counterattack.
Gone tonight was the lithe and imposing Federer who had, in his previous two matches, all but humiliated the considerable Jo-Willie Tsonga and Wimbledon champ Andy Murray. Against Rafa, he scored only two backhand winners. Too often we saw Fed (who, get this, will soon be the No. 2 Swiss player) at a loss, head down, his confidence stripped to the point where he was complaining about Rafa’s grunting.
Instead, Nadal—with fleet feet and oh-so-powerful legs—scored on inside-out forehands and crosscourt backhands. The master of defense-to-offense initiatives posted a masterful 7-6 (4), 6-3, 6-3 win in what he said was his “best match of the tournament.”
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Despite yet another loss to Rafa, Federer had a wonderful run in Melbourne—one that exceeded expectations and sustained the hopes of many that he might win a Slam or two if he somehow can dodge his nemesis.
With this in mind, in the post-match press conference I noted, “Pete Sampras told us earlier today that he was amazed by your mindset, your freshness … When he was your age or younger, he felt beaten down by the grind. Having said that, are you excited about this uptick in vitality during the early part of the year?”
Roger replied, “In a way I needed it … I needed a good moment again, because I’ve been going through a tougher time for some time. Even though you can say that Basel was better, Paris was better, London was better, the results were slightly better, the game itself was not necessarily amazing.
It was solid, but what I like [is] to take it to the guy … to be in command. That’s what I was able to do now the last couple of weeks. So that’s very encouraging … That’s why I’m not too disappointed … I’ve come from far back. I didn’t have surgery like Murray, or like the problems Rafa had being out for seven months … This is a step in the right direction … I have a belief this could be a very good year for me again.”
Still, Nadal’s win made it clear that the Spaniard, who was once seen as merely a claymeister, is now the best hard court player in the game. Since Indian Wells in March, he has dominated, and he is the prohibitive favorite to beat Stan Wawrinka in Sunday’s final. He has a 12-0 record against the Swiss, and hasn’t even dropped a set to him.
If Rafa wins the Australian and, as usual, wins the French Open, could he have a decent shot at winning the Grand Slam, or at least a calendar Slam? But we digress.
Perhaps, most of all, Nadal’s win begs the question: When can we say that he, not Roger, is actually the greatest of all-time? True, Fed has 17 majors, was No. 1 for a record 302 weeks, reached 23 straight Slam semis, and carries the record for most Slam quarterfinals. But by Sunday night Nadal may have a Sampras-tying 14 majors, and a 23-10 overall record over Roger (including an astounding 9-2 record in Slams—Roger hasn’t beaten Nadal in a major since the 2007 Wimbledon). And Rafa has a current streak of five wins in a row. Plus, he has a glittering Davis Cup record and an Olympic singles gold medal.
Roger is beautiful and beloved, and it will take a lot to dislodge him from his most dazzling of titles: The Greatest of All-Time. But history was watching this night, and history may soon be telling us a rather different tale, a story with a distinctly Spanish accent.
