French Open 2011: No Place to Hide

In yesterday’s French Open final against Rafael Nadal, Roger Federer tried many things. He tried putting in searing, pinpoint first serves. He tried coming to the net behind a few of his serves. On the return, he tried going around the backhand, taking the ball early and hitting crushing crosscourt forehands. He tried to keep his opponent constantly guessing by unfurling a full range of delicate drop shots. And most importantly of all, he tried neutralizing the damning lefty-forehand-to-single-handed-backhand dynamic by hitting sharply angled crosscourt backhands and the occasional down-the-line scorcher to keep the rallies within his comfort zone. He tried all of this, and he wasn’t exactly failing miserably in the execution department either. In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that this was Federer’s best performance in a French Open final so far (that win against a jittery Robin Soderling in 2009 isn’t quite in the same league as Roger-Rafa grade tennis, is it?). The man had arrived on Court Philippe Chatrier with as focused a mindset as I’ve ever seen from him.

In his glory days of 2006, opponents would blanch, stumble and eventually wither in the face of such eager brilliance from Federer. But yesterday, all that Nadal had to do was keep the ball in play long enough for Federer to set up for a winning backhand on a point at 2-5 that would have given Federer a one-set lead, along with an immeasurable boost to his confidence. With the set in his sights and an open court at his feet, Federer refrained from going for the risky topspin drive and tried a wrong-footing dropshot instead, and almost expectedly, the ball floated an inch wide. And just like that, Nadal had averted disaster, Federer had let his nerves get to him in the face of opportunity yet again, and the match was as good as over. The series of long-drawn points and monumental peaks and valleys in both men’s play that followed that point may not suggest that the match was such a foregone conclusion, but every single person watching knew in his heart that Federer’s best and, perhaps only, chance to score a second consecutive stunning upset was that set point at 5-2 in the first. Not for the first time, Federer had blown his chance, and not for the first time, Nadal came away from his traditional Parisian battle with his famed Swiss rival a comfortable victor, eventually winning 7-5, 7-6, 5-7, 6-1.

Was there any difference at all between this match and the 3 other times these two had met in the final at Roland Garros? The final scoreline suggests this was a closer affair than all of their previous matches here, and by all accounts the number of high points enjoyed by Federer yesterday was far greater than that in any of the 3 previous matches. But the result of this match also felt way more inevitable than any of those earlier encounters, despite the form of the two men going into the match and the brighter-than-expected start by Federer. Unlike the 3 other finals, Federer served well yesterday almost all through the match, and his backhand didn’t really break down at any point, which again was a diametrically different feature from the earlier matches. On the other hand, Nadal’s error count was a little higher than the norm for him, and he also showed a disturbing tendency to get tentative and overly-defensive after getting a lead (at 4-2 in the 3^rd set Nadal failed to hit a single first serve above 170 kmph, and Federer took full toll, breaking serve with a string of punishing returns). So the changes were mostly positive for Federer and largely negative for Nadal. And yet, the match didn’t even last 5 sets. How much is too much to take? At some stage, Federer has got to ask himself whether there is any point to even show up against Nadal at Roland Garros.

If it weren’t official already, it’s pretty much set in stone now. Nadal is the greatest claycourter the world has ever seen. He’s only just tied Bjorn Borg’s record haul of 6 French Open trophies, but the quality of opposition Nadal has had to deal with (I’m guessing Borg didn’t beat the consensus GOAT as many as 5 times in those 6 title runs) and the sheer magnitude of his dominance (how on earth is it conceivable that Nadal has only been taken to 5 sets on Parisian clay one stinking time in all these years?) put Nadal’s clay prowess in a different league altogether.

Of course, by no means was this year a romp in the park for Nadal. The man had just seen huge dents being made in his clay fortress by recent nemesis Novak Djokovic, and he appropriately struggled throughout the tournament – he was pushed to the limit in his opener against John Isner, he fought fatigue and the ATP’s crowded schedule by complaining to reporters that tennis was no longer a source of joy for him, and he had to constantly deal with the specter of facing Djokovic in the final. There was very little ‘vintage Nadal’ tennis on display in any of his matches, and it always seemed just a matter of time before his body gave up on him. All of which make this victory, while not necessarily the most convincing of his 6 title runs, possibly the most impressive.

Nadal has made a career out of fighting adversity, and he embraced adversity in the past fortnight with such intense severity that it was almost alarming to witness. When the time came to grit his teeth and get his hands dirty, Nadal didn’t back down, and he’s got yet another French crown to show for his efforts. There’s just no place to hide against Nadal on clay, even when he’s far from playing his best tennis, and this tournament did a splendid job of showcasing that simple fact to perfection. The Clay Monster may have taken a few bruises this year, but he’s dodged the killer bullet and come out the undisputed King yet again. And we were stupid enough to think that trivial things like fatigue or a Djokovic winning streak would cause it to end any other way.