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Novak Djokovic had a date with destiny last night, and he acted pretty much like any normal kid on a first date. He got all dressed up, he rehearsed all of his lines and moves, he got through the early bits and then, when he went in for that kiss good-night he missed his date's face, planted his nose on the doorbell, and in just moments it was all over! The front light was on and dad stood towering in the door - not so fast, buddy!
Of course, Roger Federer had a lot to do with all of this; getting him in the U.S. Open final today was a little like having a first date with Jessica Alba. There are a million ways to blow it. And yesterday, the 20-year old Djoker tried them all, successfully. Ben Stiller couldn't have done a better job in the movie version. Want double-faults at critical times (like in the 6-5 game of Set 1, when Djokovic had triple-set point - and five in all - and ended up losing the game on a double, launching the tiebreaker)? How about tightening up and guiding your shots? You bet! The most egregious examples occurred in the second set, when Djokovic let The Mighty Fed back into the set after building a 4-1 lead.
Suicidal drop shots? Can do! the Djoker threw a few of those in there. . . You want to screw up your Hawkeye challenges? Did you catch the way Novak wasted his second - and final - challenge of the third set simply because the crowd at his end of the baseline egged him on to officially question an ace Federer hit on a relatively meaningless game-point (TMF was serving at 2-2 in the third). Novak! Nole! Of course the crowd is going to encourage you to challenge, they like looking at the big screen and going "Ouuuuuuuuu" as the ball tracks toward the line, and the result doesn't really affect them, one way or the other.
Oye vey, Nole!
But let me repeat: It isn't like Djokovic was playing, oh, Gaston Gaudio or Nikolay Davydenko in this final. His first date was with the incomparable Federer, and that certainly had a lot to do with how the evening went.
As the final began, the stadium was bathed in late afternoon sunlight; it's my favorite time of day in Ashe stadium, because the danged place looks like a bowl packed full of colored gumdrops. Just to make sure nobody missed him in the crowd, "Federer" showed up in outfit he usually reserves for midnight executions, that black get-up that not only has everyone calling him Darth Vadar. In fact, as you probably noticed, they've been playing the theme song from The Empire Strikes Back after his victories - just in case the poor schmoe sitting on the other side of the umpire's chair isn't feeling badly enough already, after having been carved up by TMF's lights saber.
Me, I'm not into this Darth Vader thing, and not just because I couldn't care less about Star Trek or whatever the hail it was. My interpretation of this whole "Roger Federer's dark phase" is that he shows up in black - day or night, now - because he's attending a funeral. Last week it was Andy Roddick's, today it was Novak Djokovic's.
There is another way funereal black plays into it, and that, too, has less to do with George Lucas (the creator of said Star Wars trilogy) than another, recently deceased Swedish filmmaker, Ingmar Bergman. This whole dark phase thing would have a little more verisimilitude if you ripped those satin stripes off TMF's shorts (you know, the ones that give him the air of a Park Avenue swell, heading for a banquet at the Walrdorf-Astoria), yanked that Wilson lollipop out of his hands and provided him with a black hoody and a scythe. For this man truly is the Grim Reaper.
Tonight, TMF swung that scythe with brutal efficiency once again, although he nearly loped off his own leg just below the knee in the early going. What I found fascinating about this match was the way it was a service-driven match - with Novak holding his own and then some - right up to that disastrous 12th game in which Djokovic was broken from 40-0 to provide a turning point that was never overturned.
By service-driven, I mean the serve established the parameters of every point played in that long, pleasant, artfully played early stretch. Every shot that was hit - or not hit - was dictated not by the strategy, proclivity, or relative strength or weakness of either man, but by the serve put into play. That's what happens on a medium-fast court, when two guys who can bring the serve have at each other. This eliminates a lot of shotmaking and strokework, so it wasn't necessarily pretty, and it certainly lacked the variety you see when the players embark on a rally just to see where it will lead.
But to me this is elegant, syncopated, sensible tennis, clearly etched on the big screen of the viewer's mind. It was like adjective free writing, or the equivalent of a three-piece rock band instead of Electric Light Orchestra. There's a grandeur about this kind of tennis, and I would have loved to see it continue that way - both men serving big, walking a tightrope of limited possibilities, doing not whatever they felt like doing, but having to choose between limited options and making - or failing to make - simple, clear, towering statement - a critical passing shot here, a ripping service return of a blazing serve at break point.
In those first 11 games, Djokovic created what I believe is the only realistic template for beating TMF: Rocking him with big serves, taking away his time, keeping him from turning the match into a test of skill, versatility and inventiveness. Mind you, I'm not saying you can beat Federer that way - I'm just saying you can't beat him any other way.
And I think even the most diehard Federer KAD had to be squirming a little when Djokovic broke him for a 6-5 lead in the first set; in that game, TMF appeared to succumb to pressure - not the pressure to win the match, or his 12th Grand Slam title, or his fourth U.S. Open, but the far more concentrated and immediate pressure of holding serve against a guy who was easily holding and dictating the pace of his own service games, and going for broke on his returns.
I had just one question I wanted to put to the Grim Reaper after the match, and I almost didn't get to pose it. If you read the interview transcript, you'll see it was the last question - and it produced a quip that made my fellow press pariahs do cartwheels. I asked, "Did he have you back on your heels in the first set at all, really coming on strong? " TMF replied: Well, I thought he played better in Montréal, to be honest. Conditions were a bit faster. It was kind of more hard for me to control, you know, the rallies from the baseline, because it was really fast. But, yeah, I mean, I had one bad game. That cost me obviously. I don't know. I mean, he had his chances today many of them. You could sing a song about it. It's a tough one for him to swallow, because especially him losing in the end straight sets, it's tough.
This was, in its own way, a startlingly frank confession, despite the fact that people are still trying to figure out just what Federer meant with that bit about the song. What song would it be? Well, the catalog of tunes mourning lost opportunity, wasted chances, screwing up is quite a thick one, so we'll never really know what TMF had in mind. It's a pity.
I urge you to read both pressers; I'll go back and mine some more material out of them over the coming days. It's funny, I've been trying to put my finger on something in the way Djokovic conducts his press conferences, and I've usually settled for suggesting that he adopts a statesman-like tone that seems simultaneously overly serious and vaguely like parody - like a role-playing high school student, trying to sound Presidential in a civics class. I never felt quite like I had the sensibility nailed until it occurred to me that Djokovic has a remarkable ability to objectify himself; that is, to talk about himself, his game, and events like a detached observer and commentator. I think this gets him in trouble sometimes, because he ends up saying the kinds of things it's better left to others to articulate.
I had this exchange with him in the presser:
Q. Up until that seventh game you were playing a very high level. He was as well. What were you feeling out there? First Grand Slam final, but you're pressuring him an awful lot and maybe even have the upper hand. Were you feeling relaxed, like it was easier than you expected? Djokovic: Well, no. I expected a difficult match. And, of course, I was concerned a little bit before the match if I'm going to be able physically to challenge him, and I did. I did felt pretty good on the start of the match.I was just, you know, holding my serve and trying to wait for my chances, opportunities. I got them, and in the end I didn't use them.
I couldn't expect, of course, easy match because I'm playing a No. 1 player of the world, you know, in a Grand Slam final. We all know how good he plays in that Grand Slam finals. He's been there. He has this experience. He played already, I don't know, 15 Grand Slam finals, so he knows what it feels like to be in that kind of situation. He knows how to cope with the pressure. For me, this is something new, a new situation. But, you know, again, I have to look positive. Next time I hope I'm going to hold that trophy.
Taken out of context, some of Djokovic's remarks may sound arrogant. We've seen over the past week that it's a grave mistake to use the "L" word when describing how you were beaten. But, of course, "luck" has become a carrot that the press dangles from the stick of rationalization at every opportunity. Djokovic went there, a little bit, when he described wasting the last of his total of seven set points (this one was in the second set), when he said: "So, you know, since we got to the court, you know, everybody was holding their serve pretty comfortably. And then, you know, on this important moments obviously I was doing something wrong, and then I missed that shot. I was a bit unlucky, I can say. Besides the knowledge, footwork, physical, mental strength, you need a little bit of luck, which today I didn't have."
Of course, that led right down the path to this question, from Cindy Shmerler of The Boston Globe: "You're talking about you being unlucky. Yesterday Davydenko said of Roger when asked, what's the one thing Roger does best, he said, Lucky. There were a couple of set points of his that the ball literally landed on the line. Were you feeling, Wow, this guy really is lucky?"
To which Djoker replied: As I was saying before, next to all those elements, all the positive strengths you have in your game, in your mind, you need a bit of luck. I cannot say that he is No. 1 player of the world because he's lucky (laughter). You know, that's a bit strange to say.
You know, he's a big worker, very talented, a great player. That's why he deserves to be there where he is. But, of course, he is lucky and he gets these lines and lucky shots, I can say, because he's going for them. He's not trying to play safe. He's really being aggressive.
I waded into this rhetorical quagmire for a specific purpose: to emphasize the easily overlooked but utterly crucial - and perceptive - element in Djokovic's reply - that bit about Federer being aggressive instead of playing it safe. You're not going to clean lines with winners on big points unless you're bold and take the initiative. And very few players are as bold as TMF when it comes to that. It's just a more concrete and specific way of reiterating the notion that luck favors the bold, or, if you prefer, that winners make their own luck.
You wouldn't think the Grim Reaper needs luck, with all he's got going for him, but that's why he's Roger Federer, and everyone else is Nikolay Davydenko.
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