SINNERS BEWARE

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THE POWER AND POETRY OF NADAL

It’s always been a relief for sinners.

When the God-fearing Tim Tebow was traded to the Jets, New York’s NFL team didn’t exactly soar.

The unrepentant sighed in perhaps sacrilegious relief.

In tennis, the most openly religious elite player of the open era – Micheal Chang –  never was never successful enough to impose the fear of the lord on disbelievers. Whew!

So the skeptics among us scoffed when Pope Francis was elected. Certainly, the election of a new pope wouldn’t change a thing in the irrelevant little world of sports. Certainly God could care less about silly games or bouncing balls. The wretched of the Earth need not tremble.

But hold on. After hundreds of years of Catholic heritage, the election of an Argentine pope broke the mold, and the startling development was hardly lost on millions of faithful Europeans who immediately took note of the over-the-top performance of Leo Messi, (the greatest Argentine soccer star since Maradona), in a key Champions League match in Barcelona.

But that was European soccer. Certainly there would be no impact on tennis in America. Okay, one of Florida’s leading tennis writers is Edwin Pope. So what? And there has been a tradition since ’81 of papal visits by tennis players, including Wojtek Fibak, Yannick Noah, Boris Becker, Chris Evert and Roger Federer. One Indian Wells broadcaster had the temerity to call Argentina’s Juan Martin del Potro, Juan Martin del “Pope-ro.” And a reporter even asked him if having an Argentine pope gave him calm and confidence. Delpo, the most openly religious player since Chang, clearly expressed pride, “He's the first pope from South America. He's so big for our country … He’s going to work perfect … I'm very Catholic, so I like this new decision.”

What isn’t new is that back in tennis it is still the remarkable “Golden Age” for this sport, and to win a big tournament these days, a wannabe like Delpo would probably need to score wins over the likes of Djokovic, Federer and Murray. The big four have won 31 of the last 32 Slams and 24 of the last 26 Masters. Call it Fab Four infallibility.

So for Delpo to prevail in Indian Wells might require a miracle of papal proportions.  Fortunately for the field, Nadal and an ailing Federer met for the first time ever in a quarterfinal, and before you could ask for a papal dispensation the player some have dared call “St. Roger” was heading home (without a stop in Miami to play the Sony Open.)

For his part, in the searing desert, Delpo seemed to be turning water into tennis vino. Never mind that he had to face Andy Murray in the BNP Paribas Open quarters, and the No. 3-ranked Scot and reigning U.S. Open champ had beaten him five of the six times they had played. Delpo was in a zone of sorts and despite losing an epic 43-stroke rally, came from behind to score a stunning 6-7 (5), 6-3, 6-1 runaway win over the error-prone Scot.

But Delpo , No. 7 in the world, now faced an even more troubling task. In the semis he would face the hottest hardcourter in the universe, Novak Djokovic. Sure, on grass early in August at Wimbledon, Delpo scored a tearful win over Novak to claim the Olympic bronze, but since then the Serb had schooled him in three straight matches, and overall Delpo had won just two of their ten encounters.

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style=”text-align: left;”>Plus, Djokovic was on another roll, reminiscent of his dominant run in ‘11. The Serb won the Aussie Open in January and every other match he had played this year, as well as 14 straight matches against top 10 players on his beloved hard courts.

But, you didn’t have to be a Biblical prophet to frame the Delpo-Nole semi. After showing astounding heart, a great return and his signature forehand, Del Potro scored another emotional, come-from-behind upset. “We have a new pope,” gushed ESPN, “and a new BNP Paribas finalist.” Like Andre Agassi, who quickly debunked Ivan Lendl’s claim that he was “just a forehand and a haircut,” Delpo displayed a range of talents that disabused the scathing agnostic accusation that he was “just a forehand with a papal blessing.”

 Now all Delpo (who was seeking his first Masters title) had to do was to bring the singular Rafa Nadal to his suspect knees. The Spaniard was not only trying to score a record 22nd Masters title, he was hoping to craft a comeback for the ages in the tradition of Jennifer Capriati, Serena Williams, Justine Henin and Jimmy Connors. In pain and limping and on anti-inflammatories and on the hard court surface he not-so-quietly dreaded, Nadal seemed vulnerable.

 Yes, after his seven-month battle with a wretched knee that was slow to heal, he had come out and in just four weeks had won two titles and 16 of 17 matches. Rafa rocks!

But Delpo seemed oblivious to the doubters of the faith; to those who claimed he couldn’t sweep aside the mortal fact that he had to have little fuel left in his tank after surviving those draining back-to-back marathons against Murray and Djokovic and that little heretical truth that Rafa had downed him four straight times.

Oblivious to all that and losing the first three games to Nadal, Delpo adeptly camped out in his backhand corner of the court and pounded his forehand –  perhaps the most fearsome groundstroke in the game – to pin Nadal. From far outside the court or on the run, he punished the man who (with Djokovic) is the best defensive player in the game. Spanish flags suddenly stopped fluttering, Spanish shouts were muted. The man – seemingly with the pope at his back –  won six of seven games to go up a set and a break. Surely “Del Pope-ro” would now ascend to victory. But Nadal (once supposedly just a clay-court specialist who went on to win so much on grass and hard courts) has performed his share of tennis miracles too. And rarely has a player’s absence been as greatly mourned as was Rafa’s. And, in the second set, we soon saw why. Nadal is a fierce defender who turns defense to offense like no other. His sense of the battle is uncanny, defeat a mortal foe to be slain. He has a bred-in-the Mediterranean patience. Plus, he is one inspired tactician. Just review the many tapes of him disintegrating Federer’s backhand. And in the second set, Rafa changed tactics, found angles, opened the court and waited for his moments to turn the match around. Scoring key back-to-back breaks and holding serve with a newfound ease, he returned well, and played with a certain nothing to lose freedom as he methodically brought his beloved, but exhausted, foe to his knees en route to a 4-6, 6-4, 6-3 win and his third BNP Paribas title.

Some might claim that Rafa overcame “Del Pope-ro’s” papal blessing not because of his wicked forehand and sublime game management, but rather only because he was sporting a green shirt on St. Patrick’s day.

But, in the end, the Argentine of course was a gracious man in honoring Rafa’s sporting superiority. But when it came to religious and papal matters, Delpo was hardly ecumenical. Again and again, he had spoken of meeting Pope Francis when he visits Rome in May for the Italian Open. But when IT asked him if he would reach out, turn the other cheek, and bring along his foe Rafa for the papal audience, he shook his head defiantly and said, “No, just me. I need it.”

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