Society thrives on nostalgia. Human beings have this innate ability to look back at something and overlook the negatives. Woody Allen, in Midnight in Paris, discusses this in great extent and attributes this longing-ness for the past, to a strong desire to escape from one’s reality.
Bursting onto the scene as a young surly teenager, it was fairly evident that you danced, albeit awkwardly, to your own beat. Supporting you was like the proverbial rollercoaster. Each match ebbed and flowed, and it seemed you thrived in testing circumstances. Your powers of reserve, the ability to dig deep and fight till the bitter end are the stuff of legend.
People seldom recall, that between the Sampras’s/ Agassi’s and today’s golden generation there was a brief two year period where the Tennis world was at your feet. It is remarkable that at the age of 20, you had already established yourself as a Top 10 player. But there was something far more significant waiting in the wings. In a supreme display, the likes of which were unimaginable, you blew away the best player of the preceding generation. Pete Sampras walked on to Arthur Ashe, in 2001 with the knowledge that he was presented with a wonderful opportunity to add to his grand slam haul.
No one was prepared for the absolute beating you handed out to him. It was some of the cleanest returning one can hope to witness. But you were not exactly the most popular champion. Your antics on court, your band of Aussie supporters and the like seemed to infuriate most. The Argentines, in particular, would surely attest to that.
But on the back of your gusto, indomitable spirit and feistiness you ended the year as the youngest World No. 1 in the sport’s history. You went onto dominate the game for the next couple of years, even storming to the Wimbledon crown the next year without even dropping a set. It seemed at the time that you were the ultimate counter puncher, who could go on forever, outlasting his opponents on a nightly basis. We all wondered how many more slams you would eventually rack up.
But then a new era was being ushered in. Players who hit a heavy ball could more often than not hit you off the court. But you still hung in there. You hustled and fought till the very end. It was simultaneously both your most endearing and your most exasperating quality. These qualities helped you reach another two finals in the majors but ultimately you came up short. Nevertheless, before the emergence of the likes of Nadal and Djokovic, you along with the likes of Andy Roddick led the way in trying to somehow stop Federer’s juggernaut, but to no avail.
Your fans loved watching you harry these big young studs into submission but alas, your body started to give in. The surgeries, the pain endured and all the tribulations that you had to endure can be scarcely imagined.
Your run in 2009, to the quarterfinals at Wimbledon evoked memories of your heyday. Spurred on by adrenaline and your Aussie brigade you were within an inch of beating Andy Roddick who was playing the best tennis of his life.
You are indeed a special type of player. You did not possess the biggest serve or the heaviest groundstrokes. But you made up for that and then some, with your shot selection, and above all your heart and grit. It was never pretty viewing, but we all knew that you were always in for a fight. In fact, you thrived on the biggest occasions. Your opponents knew that they needed to be on their game to overcome your tenacity on court.
In recent years we have seen you struggle with the aforementioned injury problems to your hip, toe, et al that have robbed you of the opportunity to try and win another Major before you ride off into the sunset. Yet somehow, after overcoming insurmountable odds and defying doctors, you have managed to prolong your career.
That will to never concede defeat is why you are still on tour. It is also what brought you one of the best nights of your career. It was the culmination of sorts of all the hard yards you had put in to get back in shape in order to compete on the biggest stage. Beating Juan Martin del Potro, under lights, in Arthur Ashe stadium in an epic five-setter, you displayed all those qualities that made us fall in love with you in the first place.
But here’s the thing. Time has healed a large portion of the animosity the crowds had towards you and now they view you as the veteran favourite. As this author as already mentioned, people tend to have tainted memories. They are sitters for the past, and often overlook the things they disliked or could have been averse to.
This inherent mentality of people could explain why people have chosen to overlook their previous distaste for your antics on court. Another explanation could be because in today’s tennis everyone seems to be as emotionally amped up as you are. Whatever the reason, their love for the old-timer rolling back the years on the biggest stage was fairly evident.
Your run at this year’s US Open was exceedingly heartening to witness and one hopes that you have put your injuries behind you. More importantly, one hopes that you can start playing on tour consistently and hopefully competing at the highest level.
Your comments about having one last crack at winning a Major, possibly at the All England Club, may seem a little optimistic but one can only hope that there is some life left in the old legs. Maybe there is an iota of chance that you, a once great tennis player, can bow out on a high which would surely be a beautiful conclusion to your topsy turvy career.
Regardless, you shall go down as arguably one of the greatest battlers the sport has witnessed and that shall probably be your most enduring legacy.
But let us hope that instead of this piece being an obituary to your glittering career it predates one last fairy tale run at one of the big tournaments before you can ride off into the sunset.
C’mon Lleyton!