 by Pete Bodo
It seems only fitting that the grand finale of the Australian Open women's singles event will consist of a clash between the two compelling story lines that were in place way back on the first day of play.
I'm not talking about Kim Clijsters' wish to run a victory lap before she retires, nor about Li Na's return to the place where her breakthrough success of 2011 began. I'm not talking about Caroline Wozniacki's quest for that long-deferred Grand Slam title. And I'm not referring to Petra Kvitova's drive to strip Wozniacki of that No. 1 ranking. That was a good theme all right, but it's insufficiently aged.
One of the great narratives can be called the education of aspiring Grand Slam champ Victoria Azarenka; the other is the resurrection of Maria Sharapova.
Tomorrow, one of those stories will end in triumph, the other in heartbreak. That they both can't end well is the essence and glory of sports, although it's not always so obvious.
Azarenka is just 22, yet she's been a pro since she entered an ITF Challenger event in Israel at 14. Last year, she climbed all the way to No. 3, and rarely lost a big match to an equal or inferior player. The Belarusian Bombardier's opponent in the final is just over two years older, but she achieved with relative ease the very stuff of which Azarenka dreams are made of when she, Sharapova, won Wimbledon at the ridiculous age of 17.
Azarenka has been a hard-luck story, spiced-up and driven by her capacity for keeping the faith. Sharapova has been a fairy tale that turned dark when a serious shoulder injury nearly killed her career, transforming Sharapova from the insanely lucky blond who seemed to have it all (and still wanted more) into a broke-down example of what can happen if you get too much, too fast.
Only one thing will distract most people from understanding and savoring the clash of these two tales, and that will be the way both woman insist on shrieking and screaming every blessed time they strike the ball. To call that noise "grunting" is an insult not only to various barnyard creatures, but to the English language. However, we can hope that the outcry over the sound track will finally prod the WTA into taking action to control this problem.
When I look at this match-up, it's hard to avoid the conclusion that by the end of the day Saturday, Azarenka will not be the game's newest Grand Slam champion, but will have come one step closer to becoming its newest Elena Dementieva. Perhaps not coincidentally, Azarenka plays an athletic, fierce game comparable to one that brought Dementieva everything but a major title. The saving grace for Azarenka in this comparison is that she isn't saddled with that woeful serve that plagued Dementieva through most of her career, so there's reason to hope.
On the other hand. . .
Azarenka was broken nine times in her last two matches (Sharapova surrendered just four breaks in her last two), and Sharapova is a bold, borderline reckless returner. Given that this is Azarenka's first Grand Slam final, it may be too much to expect her to show the poise it will require to stand up to Sharapova's blistering return. She can always tell herself, If Kvitova can do it at Wimbledon, I can do it here. . . But what she cannot do is borrow Kvitova's serve and a grass court.
But that's just Part A of her problem. Part B is that Sharapova seems to have overcome her prolonged case of the serving yips, and that suggests that she also will be hard to break. Those big serves Sharapova has been landing enable her to take control and dictate the nature of the rallies. If she is capable that way in the final, Sharapova will make Azarenka's athleticism and rallying ability a moot point. This match-up just doesn't look very good for Azarenka because of the serve/return match-up.
Of course, Sharapova could blister the court with errant serves and drill holes in the court-side signage with shanked returns. Nobody stinks out a joint as badly as Sharapova on an off day. But she hasn't had any of those in Melbourne, so you'd have to be perverse to suddenly call for a letdown in the final. Besides, Sharapova is a competitor for the ages, and she hasn't minded telling anyone who'll listen that she really wants this one. "It means so much to be back in a Grand Slam final, a stage I have been to before few years ago here. It's nice to get that far again after losing quite early in the last couple of years. . . So, yeah, it means a lot to me."
That's about as close to passionate as this frosty withholder comes in her public pronouncements.
You have to feel for Azarenka. She's become a master of due diligence without her labor bearing the ultimate fruit. Last year, she lost to the finalist at two majors (Li Na in Australia, Serena Williams at the U.S. Open) and the champion at the other two (Li at Roland Garros, Kvitova at Wimbledon). She was Rafa to their collective Nole all year. Her streak continues here because of the way the once roiled skies have suddenly cleared for Sharapova.
Azarenka won two of their last three meetings, but Sharapova was ranked outside the Top 10 and still on the comeback trail at the time. She's Ova that hump now and looks like she'll be very hard to beat.
 by Pete Bodo
Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray will meet in the semifinals of the Australian Open. Last year, it was in the finals, but why quibble? Just like last year, both men have slashed their way to the semis with nary a glitch. As former Yankees catcher and New York Mets manager Yogi Berra, the master of the malapropism, famously said, "It's deja vu all over again. . ."
Or is it?
Just how different is "now" from "then"? Not very much, as far as Djokovic is concerned, quite a bit—perhaps—when it comes to Murray.
Going into last year's final, both Djokovic and Murray were on fire, but neither seemed ready to seriously challenge Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal at the summit of the game. Djokovic mastered Federer in the semis (and in straight sets no less—talk about a harbinger!), but he still seemed a distant No. 3. It had been three years since Djokovic won his last—and only—major. That he bagged that first big title in Melbourne seemed less an omen than the logical outcome demanded by his great form.
You could be forgiven for thinking, "Yeah, Djokovic plays okay down here, so what? It's the 'Happy Slam,' not the crucial Slam, never mind 'the only Slam that matters. . .' "
Who knew that Djokovic would maintain that form through three-quarters of the year? Last year's Australian Open was the start of something special for Djokovic, and all the indications suggest that this year is a continuation of that theme. He's lost 34 games in the course of five matches, for an average of just under seven games per match, in best-of-five tennis. That's a remarkable success rate.
The big year Djokovic had in 2011 softened, somewhat, the criticism leveled at Murray following their meeting in the final. Djokovic won that one, 6-4, 6-2, 6-3, and Murray looked at an utter loss for what to do most of that time. In retrospect, it was more of a career moment for Djokovic than a career embarrassment for Murray, but that probably doesn't make Murray feel much more confident on the eve of the re-match.
Murray had every reason to feel confident going into last year's final. Djokovic had lost just one set on his way (to Ivan Dodig), while Murray had surrendered just two. It may strain the imagination now, but the book on Djokovic was that he was still having too much fun doing impersonations, and spending too much time rationalizing poor performances with an assortment of seemingly questionable physical complaints, to be much of a threat to Federer or Nadal.
I'm not saying Murray took Djokovic lightly, just that if he were so inclined, he could find ample evidence for taking that position.
Like everyone else on the planet, Murray knows that Djokovic is for real 12 months down the pike. And that helps Murray. Does anyone doubt that the outright superiority of Djokovic, and the way he leapfrogged over the two icons of this era, has sounded alarms in Murray's mind?
The most obvious reaction to Djokovic's ascendancy was Murray's decision to hire what the Brits might call a "proper" coach. Murray's alliance with former No. 1 and eight-time Grand Slam champ Ivan Lendl is the most tantalizing "unknown" in play for this match, and while the partnership is still new, it will be interesting to see what Lendl brings to the table—besides a courtside presence that seems to have shamed Murray into abandoning the silly petulant child routine that was once his response to adversity.
Having dealt with Lendl often in the past, I know that he isn't there just to provide moral support. Lendl is an incredibly clinical, logically-minded guy. If there's a soft underbelly in Djokovic's game, Lendl will find it. It's genuinely intriguing to wonder, will we see anything significantly different in the way Murray plays?
But there's another question here: Will Murray accept and act on Lendl's advice? You'd be surprised to know how often terrific players ignore their coaches' advice, just because they can. Just because they're stubborn, and find the idea that they must change anathema. Lendl won't stick around if he comes to an impasse, and that's good to know.
As the old saying goes, You can't teach an old dog new tricks. . . In tennis, though, the same applies to young dogs. In any event, it will be interesting to see what, if anything, Murray might do differently in the Melbourne rematch.
by Pete Bodo
By now, the narrative is well-established and has taken on a prominent place in the conventional tennis wisdom: On any surface that yields a medium to high bounce, Rafael Nadal enjoys a great match-up advantage over Roger Federer. That helps explain how Nadal, who has won 10 major titles (six of them at the French Open) compared to 16 by his rival, can lead the head-to-head by an impressive 17-9.
The theory evolved because left-handed Nadal's most natural (and thus most reliable) forehand goes cross-court (the default direction for either groundstroke for biomechanical reasons)—to Roger's backhand. That spells trouble for Federer, who struggles to get his one-handed backhand up high enough to cover and forcefully return a ball that leaps up at him.
That also holds true for Nadal's lefty kick serve, which upon contact with the court pops up and away like a scared jackrabbit, creating reach and timing problems for Federer. You want to be the genius on the bar stool at a tavern with a some not-very-expert tennis fans sitting around you? Just trot out that analysis to prep them for the Australian Open semifinal between those two men later tonight. Works every time. Rafa bounces Roger to death.
Like most dangerous ideas, there's truth in it. But to assign that facet of their match-up such overwhelming importance is fatuous. The disadvantage for Federer in that forehand-to-one-handed-backhand combination is most pronounced on clay, the surface that yields the most dramatic bounce (which is an even more important property than what is loosely called court "speed," and is usually the actual element that determines our opinion of court speed). And if you take the clay-court clashes between the two titans out of the head-to-head, the rivalry suddenly looks different—as in seven wins to five losses for Federer.
Federer has 15 titles at majors not called Roland Garros. Nadal has all of four. Federer has that many wins at the Australian Open alone, and he hasn't lost before the semis at the first major of the year since 2003. Nadal has been as far as the semifinals just twice.
That Federer sure must be some kind of bum if he's the only guy on the tour who can't handle Rafa's topspin or kick serve on a hard court that produces a relatively high bounce. Who was Nadal losing to all those years in Melbourne, lefties? Or maybe a bunch of guys with two-handed backhands own Nadal in Melbourne the way he's said to own Federer.
See—doesn't make much sense, does it?
Nadal lost to Lleyton Hewitt in his first two Australian Open outings (2004 and 2005, in the third and fourth rounds, respectively). Granted, Nadal was just a pup at the time, and Hewitt was a top player, albeit no longer at his peak. Now, Hewitt hits a two-handed backhand, but his advertised height of 5-foot-11 seems to be stretching it. And one of the main criticisms of the two-handed backhand is that it limits a player's reach (unless he's Gumby, or Novak Djokovic), especially when it comes to the need for quick reaction. And it certainly limits a player's options.
So. . . In his first two times out in Melbourne, Nadal lost to a little guy with a two-handed backhand. Perhaps it was just a matter of age and experience?
In 2007, Nadal was already No. 2 when lost in the quarterfinals in Melbourne to then-No. 9 Fernando Gonzalez. The Chilean won in straight sets, despite having a one-handed backhand with which he seemed to do just fine, both in rallies and when returning serve. Gonzalez is famous for his aggression, while Federer's killer shot is his forehand. However, I never heard anyone suggest that Federer's backhand stinks. Could Gonzalez's backhand be so much better than Federer's that he could handle Nadal while The Mighty Fed could not?
The following year, Nadal was crushed—in straights, again—by Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. The beefy Frenchman hits a two-handed backhand and, like Djokovic, he's got sufficient height to make it tough to get the ball up to the height of his shoulder on any surface, including clay. But he has a one-hander too, although I confess I don't recall how he uses it against Nadal.
Alright, so we come to 2009, the year Nadal finally won the tournament, beating Federer in the final. That one was a five-setter, and I respectfully suggest that there was more going on in that match than the Rafa forehand breaking down the Roger backhand. For one thing, Federer served miserably.
And last year, Nadal went out to compatriot David Ferrer in a straight-sets quarterfinal loss. In his two previous rounds, he barely survived brutal five-set encounters with Philipp Kohlschreiber and Ivo Karlovic, both of whom use one-handed backhands.
I suppose you can't discount the possibility that Federer has some sort of mental block when he has to hit his backhand against Nadal's forehand, but that's a tough one to sell, at least to me. The bottom line may be that nobody likes to have to hit balls at shoulder height, yet despite that, Nadal's rate of success Down Under under has been inconsistent at best (at least compared to his proficiency on clay and grass).
Nadal surely will use that No. 1 choice in his playbook tonight, but I think the more telling element in the match-up is that Federer's return game seems significantly less effective than his hold game. He just doesn't put his opponents under enough pressure, or at least under as much pressure as his general talents suggest is possible. And if you don't pressure Rafa, you might as well not even lace 'em up.
I think that larger issue will have a greater bearing on tonight's match; in fact, it will make that No. 1 Nadal play more—or less—viable. But I'll keep an open mind about it.
by Pete Bodo
It looks like all those Roger Federer vs. Rafael Nadal Grand Slam shootouts aren't ready to go to syndication just yet. They're still live, prime-time fare (at least in Australia, no matter how bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived that leaves North American fans), even though the two icons will be doing their shtick in the semifinals of a major for the first time since 2005, when Nadal embarked on his career-long mastery of Federer on red clay with a win at the French Open.
But this is not Roland Garros, and this is not the same confident and tunnel-visioned Nadal to whom Federer bowed on that occasion. And it isn't the same Federer who could balm the wounds of that loss by dominating at all the majors where pristine white socks and shorts aren't ruined by red grit and orange stains.
Nowadays, even these great rivals are a little more like ordinary schmoes on the tour (thanks, partly, to Novak Djokovic). They have to perform due diligence. And more and more often, even when they succeed, Federer or Nadal is apt to leave the court after a match wiping his brow, thinking, "Phew! That was close!"
But despite being over 30, Federer has rewritten that script in recent months. The No. 3 seed has been a rock in Melbourne, extending his unexpected and brilliant fall of last year. Today, he secured his place in the semis with a blow-out win over No. 11 Juan Martin del Potro. The scores neatly describe how the air went out of Delpo's balloon, 6-4, 6-3, 6-2. Good thing it wasn't a best-of-seven; who needs to tack on a 6-1?
Given what happened in No. 2 seed Rafa's subsequent clash with Tomas Berdych, it's hard not to look back upon Federer's performance and detect a message.
Nadal beat No. 7 Berdych, 6-7 (5), 7-6 (6), 6-4, 6-3, a score that also reflects the steadily declining fortunes of the loser. But this was nothing like a routine dismembering. Berdych's fall-off could be explained at least partly by the fact that he more or less blew it when he had a chance to go up two sets to love. It's the kind of thing that can gnaw at a guy, and leave him thinking woulda, coulda, shoulda the rest of the way. It can also be downright inspiring for your opponent.
In the first set, the one Berdych won, Nadal survived four set points before he capitulated. That's called living dangerously against a guy with a gun like Berdych has in that serve. In the second set, Rafa appeared to be rolling at 5-3 when Berdych flared again, and the next thing you know they were in another tiebreaker.
Nadal jumped out to a 4-1 lead in the breaker, only to relinquish it—and face a set point that would have put Berdych up two sets to none. Nadal survived the situation and leveled the match with three straight points. With the set in his pocket, Nadal looked relieved and played with replenished vigor, while Berdych saw his semifinal berth evaporating before his very eyes.
If you're a Nadal fan, you will undoubtedly look at the glass as half full. Rafa fought a good fight against a ball-crusher, dodged a few bullets, played well when he most needed to, and is now—drum roll, please—battle-hardened!
If you're a Federer fan, you're thinking, Berdych is no more of a ball-crusher than Delpo. If that was Roger instead of Berdych out there, Rafa goes down in straights. . .
Count me with the Federer fans on this one. Whatever has been eating at Nadal in recent months is still gnawing away. Analyzing the first set, Nadal told the media, "I was nervous because he was playing well. I thought that I didn't put enough balls in when I was returning. . . I wasn't able to hit the ball [deep]. My movements weren't enough strong, enough fast."
As always, it was an honest and accurate assessment, but it doesn't bode well for his next challenge. And it leaves hanging the question: Why?
If Nadal is lucky, the answer to that question is "form on the day," or perhaps even "Berdych was on fire." Perhaps Nadal will be fast enough and strong enough come Thursday. Maybe he won't be nervous. But the convoluted narrative of this last match, Nadal's roller-coastering emotions, the anxieties that plagued him, and the way the very word "Rafa" is becoming synonymous with "drama" isn't an encouraging sign.
Way back when Nadal and Federer met in that Roland Garros semfinal of '05, it was obvious that the emerging Spanish star was a young man on a mission. At this tournament, though, the guy who appears determined not to be denied is that old dog Federer. As Nadal himself conceded: "[Federer]'s doing well and he's playing fantastic. And he had a fantastic end of the season last year. So he's coming with confidence. It will be a very, very difficult match for me, and I will try."
The last and only other time these two met in Melbourne was 2009, when Nadal snatched the title with a five-set win over Federer in the final. The Swiss star is too cool and professional to throw around crude terms or words like "payback." But that doesn't mean he can't turn it over, savoring it, in his mind.
by Pete Bodo
Last week, I wrote about the precipitious decline of Russian men's tennis, as personified by the fact that Alex Bogomolov Jr., a 28-year-old who has spent almost his entire career as a journeyman, is ranked ahead of such former luminaries as aging Nikolay Davydenko and Mikhail Youzhny. The women, however, are doing significantly better.
Has there been a tournament played anywhere in the past decade where one or more Russian women were not a factor? As it is, four Russians are in the WTA Top 20 (that's the same number as the Spanish men have in the ATP Top 20), ranging between No. 4 Maria Sharapova and No. 19 Svetlana Kuznetsova. Those two have won multiple Slams, and Sharapova has been No. 1.
The Russians wedged between them are No. 7 Vera Zvonareva, of late No. 2 in the world and a two-time Grand Slam finalist, and rising star Anastasia Pavlyuchnekova, who could end up eclipsing the other three women under consideration. She's still just 20 and has much to learn about the discipline and demands of the profession.
It sometimes seems like every time a Russian woman falls off the pace, another one pops up to take her place. It's like there's a giant feeder tube connecting Russia to the WTA tour. At Melbourne in the past few days, Zvonareva and Kuznetsova fell on hard times, both eliminated by the end of the third round. So along comes Ekaterina Makarova to pick up the slack; she's the one who bounced Zvonareva and counted coup yesterday on Serena Williams. Makarova has Sharapova next.
These Russians would be awesome—if all the other Russians stopped beating up on them.
By my count, there are nine Russians in the Top 100, so the group is top heavy. And Makarova is the one most likely to be the next one to join the Top 20. The 23-year-old Muscovite nearly pulled it off last June, when she hit No. 23, but she slumped terribly in the fall (six consecutive first-round losses) and is presently at No. 56—although this quarterfinal (or better) finish at the first Grand Slam of the year will bump her up significantly.
How far can she go? It's a good question. Her talent last night was obvious; she has plenty of punch, moves well, and there's something so classically left-handed about her game that it jumps right out at you. Yet she's been to the fourth round at a major just three times in her career (including at this Australian Open), which isn't a great track record, even for a 23-year-old. She's won just one main tour event, Eastbourne (2010). But we all know that mercurial leftys can be flaky, and she may be one of those players for whom it all falls into place relatively late in her career. Perhaps she can consult with Bogomolov on that.
Makarova seems to march to the beat of a slightly different drummer. Spectators good-naturedly fracture her name, calling out "macaroni," or even "Macarena," childish behavior that she finds irritating. But lest you misunderstand, she has nothing against pasta. "The Italian food, I really like it," she told the world press, beaming after her big win yesterday. "I just don't like how they call sometimes." She has less trouble when she's told she looks like actress Gwyneth Paltrow, as one starstruck reporter suggested in that same presser.
Her favorite tournament is the U.S. Open, and her childhood idol was an intriguing countrywoman, Anastasia Myskina. She was part of that first wave of Russian players to follow pioneering Anna Kournikova onto the WTA tour. What with the likes of Elena Dementieva and Nadia Petrova in that pack, who would have thought Myskina would be the first—and, more shocking, only—Grand Slam tournament winner in the bunch? She upset countrywoman Dementieva in the Roland Garros final of 2004.
That's another thing about Russian women's tennis. Given the impact Russia has with the number and generally high quality of its players, the Grand Slam title haul of the dynasty has been fairly light—a mere half dozen titles, half of which were earned by Sharapova (Kuznetsova took two and Myskina one).
"I can say that my idol was Anastasia Myskina," Makarova told the world press after the win over Serena. "I really love her game. I didn't want to look like her, but just wanted maybe to play because I really love her game. She's working with the Federation Cup now. I'm so happy sometimes when I'm also on the team and she's happy like to talk to me. That's an amazing feeling."
If Makaraova can win this title, she'll have performed a feat that might bring a knowing smile to the face of her idol and Fed Cup coach.
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