In the span of a Sunday afternoon, a tournament to forget became one that won’t be leaving the minds of tennis fans anytime soon. That’s the thing about the Slams. Even one as beleaguered as this year’s Wimbledon still has more to offer that just about any sporting event—good, bad, ugly, and dramatic. In the end, the final between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal made it clear that we’re being treated to a golden age on the men’s side, courtesy of two of the best players in the sport’s history. I’ll wrap this one up by rating the relevant characters and moments involved.
Roger Federer: A+
Federer earned this championship in a different way from his others. In the past, he’s been far and away the best player in the event—any sets taken from him seemed like flukes. As we know, this was the first time he had to go five sets in any match during his five-year run. It’s also the first time he had to do what champions occasionally have to do to survive: Win despite being outplayed. The final was a classic Sampras-like grass-court performance from Federer. First he was rescued by his serve—Nadal was the better player when the rallies began—then by his ability to avoid making errors at the most important moments, i.e., the tiebreakers, and finally by his champions’ ability to take a match when his opponent left it up for grabs.
Federer lost it in the fourth set when he asked that Hawk-Eye be turned off. It was a shocking moment of vulnerability from him; John McEnroe was right, though, that it wasn’t the machine that was on his mind, it was the play of Nadal and his own botched shots. But Federer redeemed himself with his acceptance speech after the match. One thing that has bothered me about him during his years of domination is his inability to accept that anyone is even remotely in his league as a player. It’s an attitude that has led to his stubborn insistence that he doesn’t have to change his game to beat anyone, including Nadal on clay—he’s Roger Federer, so why would he change anything? But talking to Sue Barker on court, Federer showed the grace of a mature champion. “I told Rafa at the net that we both deserved to win.” This was just right for three reasons. It was an honest assessment; it gave Nadal well-earned respect and acceptance as a worthy rival on all courts; and it recognized that this had been an historic match between two players as much as it had been an historic victory for one. Forget the dorky, trying-too-hard outfits and their “classiness.” Federer’s generosity was class in action.
Venus Williams: A+
True, Venus wasn’t put to a true test in the final, but her fourth Wimbledon win was still remarkable because it was so Williams—bizarre, inexplicable, utterly unlikely, and totally convincing. Like Serena in Australia, Venus made a couple early escapes and then, out of nowhere, just started to play infinitely better. All the balls that were flying out in the early rounds were suddenly perfectly measured. The perspective of the show courts somehow gives her more presence; there you can appreciate her towering height, ridiculous legs, graceful movement, and grave competitiveness. When she got to Centre Court, she put just a touch more topspin on her forehand, stuck her backhand volleys, and ate up yards of grass with each step. It made me wonder how she ever loses.
But that’s not a question worth asking; nor is it worth wondering whether Venus is “back”—who knows? This was just another chapter in the strange and unique legend of the Williamses, the tennis family that does everything their own way.
Men’s Final: A
This doesn’t get an A+ because the fifth set lacked nail-biting drama at the very end. But in every other way it was a classic—it may even have been the best-played match in the history of tennis. This isn't a measurable judgment, of course, but one thing that amazed me about both guys was their court coverage. No matter what’s been done to the grass surface in recent years, the ball is still moving through it pretty quickly. We can complain that the courts are too slow, but after watching Federer and Nadal, I started to think that the men make the grass look slow because they’ve gotten so fast. You can look at the ratio of winners to errors to judge the quality of a match, but they’re not going to tell the whole story of this one.
In politics, the incumbent has all the advantages; in boxing, they say you have to knock out the champ to claim the belt. It’s the same at the Slams. The champ goes in with the simple but crucial mental edge of having done it before—he can have no doubt of his ability to win this tournament. Think of the difference in pressure between a defending champion and someone trying to win a major for the first time. For Federer today, losing might mean he would be remembered as a four-time Wimbledon winner rather than a five-timer; for Nadal, it could be the difference between being forever known as a Wimbledon champion—or not at all. (The reverse is true at the French, and you can see Nadal has an advantage in the key moments there.) That’s not to say Federer didn’t feel it, but the pressure Nadal must have felt as he got to the end of the match is the kind that will make even the most self-assured player blink. Nadal was in uncharted territory as he threatened to take the lead for the first time all afternoon early in the fifth set. And he blinked.
I had said before the match that it would be decided by who could take over the center of the court. But that ended up being pretty much a stalemate—if anything Nadal won that battle. What finally decided it was a quirk of this particular match, which played out in the opening games of the fifth set. Nadal was on a roll and Federer was shanking balls and hanging his head. The Spaniard got to 15-40 twice; both times he slightly overhit makeable backhand returns, a clear sign of nerves. It was just enough of a slip for Federer. He held and then, having dodged a bullet, finally relaxed and played tennis like a man just out of jail. Nadal, on the other hand, couldn’t shake those missed opportunities. After going neck and neck for four sets, that was enough for Federer to get his nose across first.
Rafael Nadal: A
Despite his loss, this event belonged to Nadal as much as it did Federer. It was a step forward for the Spaniard; anyone who still thought he was just a modern-day Thomas Muster, or that his Wimbledon run last year was a fluke, was silenced as Nadal made his way through a very tough draw and played some of the most impressive tennis—on or off clay—of his career. He even narrowed the gap with Federer; for the first time I found myself wondering whether Nadal could catch him for No. 1 at some point in the future. The kid showed his usual heart—instead of complaining about the scheduling or his physical condition, he went out and faced down two of his major nemeses—but he also showed fans that he is every bit as “talented” as Federer. He may not be as elegant, but there have been few shots in history as lethal as his forehand, and there have been few, if any, clay-courters with his hands and instincts around the net. I hope this loss doesn’t stick in his mind, either over the summer or in the future at Wimbledon. The shot of him hanging his head, hair in his eyes, as he sat on the sidelines is the most poignant moment of the tennis year so far—the one-man whirlwind of energy was spent, physically and emotionally.
John McEnroe: A
Johnny Mac doesn’t try too hard, and it’s a lesson all his colleagues could learn. By now he’s an old pro, a familiar and surprisingly friendly voice. He was outstanding in the men’s final, building the occasion without overhyping it, pointing out when Federer had come unglued in the fourth, and praising Nadal when he was hanging his head after the match: “Be proud, Rafa”—perfect words that were particularly meaningful coming from the man who had been in the same position after losing to Borg 27 years ago.
Bjorn Borg: A
For years he seemed bitter about the sport, avoiding Wimbledon and just about everywhere else the game was played. As late as 2001 he was calling Federer to thank him for keeping Sampras from tying his record, not the action of a man at peace with his place in the game. Yesterday he looked like he made that peace. He looked good, in fact, laughing it up with Manolo Santana and no longer appearing to be the shadow of a champion that he has often seemed to be since retiring.
Darren Cahill: A-
Killer is already the most concise and insightful commentator on ESPN. With one line, he located a major reason why Tomas Berdych continues to be so erratic—he's not good at taking little steps before he hits the ball. Now Cahill just needs to step on his voluble colleagues’ toes and give us those lines a little more often.
Richard Gasquet: A-
The world finally got a taste of what the Microwave of tennis can do when he heats up. In the fourth set he reached a level that no one came close to matching at this tournament. If he can continue to challenge late at Slams, the entire men’s game will be more exciting.
Novak Djokovic: B+
I would have given him an A- for the way he fought off Lleyton Hewitt and Marcos Baghdatis to reach the semis, but I thought he was too cavalier in the way he retired against Nadal. This is the semifinals of Wimbledon; if you’re going to quit, at least don’t walk off smiling. (Bumped back up to a B+ for his Sharapova imitation.)
Marion Bartoli: B+
It was nice to meet a new player and see a new face, and her Pierce Brosnan comments were classics. She was also entertainingly quirky on court. But it isn't a great advertisement for the women’s game when the Wimbledon finalist has such a fundamentally funky forehand. Not that it isn’t effective; it just isn’t ready for prime time (or breakfast time).
ESPN: B-
They get a B just for broadcasting so much of Wimbledon. But they continue to infuriate fans with reruns and time-consuming personality profiles. If you’re going to send so many people over, show us as much tennis as you can.
Justine Henin: B-
Not her finest hour. She got too much coaching against Serena, and she robbed us of a potentially classic women’s final by fading against the starstruck Bartoli.
Andy Roddick: B-
It wasn’t entirely his fault. Gasquet had nothing to lose in the third set and loosened up, which is not what you want him to do. But at the end, Roddick appeared to lose the belief that he could win. He trudged between points, served-and-volleyed when he shouldn’t have, and dropped his volleys back into the middle of the court. The Frenchman took the heart out of him, which is something you rarely see from Roddick, particularly against a lower-ranked opponent.
James Blake: C
Will he ever fully believe in his talent? He only seems to be comfortable when there are no expectations for him. But at 28, there isn’t time for him to go down in the rankings far enough to come up again.
Ted Robinson: C
He needs a new vocal inflection; not everything can be totally unbelievable, can it?
Jonas Bjorkman: C-
Cough, cough—psycho!—cough, cough
The All England Club: F
By not playing on the middle Sunday, officials made the tournament too hard for the players and less competitive and entertaining for fans in the end. Yes, the men’s final was played on time on Sunday, but one of the semifinals wasn’t finished because of physical exhaustion. "Tradition" isn't worth that.
Tiger/Henry/Federer Gillette ad: F
How can a commercial with three international stars look so bush league?
