By A.S.

THE PEDIGREE: Like Nadal, the 6-foot-4 Monfi ls, whose father, Rufin, was a soccer player, represents the tennis player as über-athlete. The 20-year-old won the first three legs of the junior Grand Slam in 2004 and honed his considerable talents with French coaches in Paris before spending some time at the Bollettieri Academy this winter.

THE PERSONA: In an era where the code of conduct has all but driven on-court expression out of the game, Monfi ls is one of the sport’s origi-nals. He shakes his blown-out hair, pumps his fist, lectures himself in French, glares at his racquet (and occasionally his opponent,  or the referee) with a flair that’s reminiscent of his spiritual progenitor and fellow  Frenchman Yannick Noah.

THE GAME: There’s one quality that separates champions from also-rans, and that’s quickness. There has never been a slow champion. So when you learn that Monfils is perhaps the fastest player on tour, it makes sense that Roger Federer includes him on the short list of young players he’s watching. Another thing that impresses you about Monfi ls is his loose and easy service motion, which routinely results in 130-m.p.h. bombs—think Mariano Rivera with a tennis racquet. Thus far, though, Monfi ls doesn’t take advantage of that delivery as often as he could.  Instead he’s content to sit far back in the court and rally rather than use his power and speed to make the fi rst strike.

THE PROGNOSIS: In today’s big-bucks world of tennis, cracking the Top 10 is enough to fi ll a villa with sports cars. The next step, from contender to champion, is almost a move of diminishing returns—unless you’re quelling a certain fire in the belly, a quality that exists irrespective of talent. Roger Federer has it. Marat Safin doesn’t. Does Monfils?