Ivan Ljubicic’s win over Rafael Nadal on Saturday was a story of twos: Two chapters and two shots. It began as it was supposed to begin, with Nadal tomahawking forehands, tying Ljubicic to a string along the baseline, and breaking him twice for the first set.
If anything, the match got even more predictable through the first five games of the next set. Nadal’s confidence only grew, especially on his forehand. He had the range on every version of this shot that he owns: The high loop, the heavy deep bomb, the over-rotating inside-out flick from inside the service line, the dipping return, and the short-hop winner from the baseline, a shot that Ljubicic shook his head about later. Nadal even held for 3-2 in the second set by hitting a forehand winner from behind the baseline and above his shoulder.
It’s either ironic or entirely appropriate, then, that in the next game it was Nadal’s forehand, specifically his forehand return, that proved to be the tiny chink, the tiny flaw, the miniscule opening that would eventually let Ljubicic stomp through the door. If there’s one moment when Nadal is most vulnerable to nerves, it’s when he has a break point, in a game when he’s either ahead or tied in a set, and he gets a second serve to his forehand. Up two sets, with a break point at 3-3 in the third in the 2008 Wimbledon final, he dumped this shot in the bottom of the net against Federer and almost ended up losing the match. In Madrid last year, again versus Federer, he mishit that same shot long on break point in the second game and was never in the match.
It’s shouldn’t be a difficult stroke. On a second serve in the ad court, the ball is almost guaranteed to jump into the strike zone of a left-hander’s forehand. But on break point, it’s also guaranteed to come in just slowly enough to let you think about the consequences of a miss. This will do funny things to anyone’s swing. The most common reaction is to pull up too quickly on the ball, something I did—I’m a lefty like Nadal—with disconcerting regularity when I played doubles and had to return second serves on break points in the ad court. It’s extremely tough to manufacture your usual swing in this situation.
Today, Nadal went up 0-40 on Ljubicic’s serve at 2-3. Ljubicic, who served lights out all day, hit an unreturnable and an ace to make it 30-40. He missed his first serve and spun in his second with decent depth and kick. Nadal backed up and ran around to hit a forehand, but instead of setting off the kind of deep bomb he’d been hitting routinely in that set, he pulled up just a bit and the ball floated back high and short, right to the service line. Ljubicic took it on the rise with a forehand and won the point. A pattern had been set, one that would spell the difference late in the match: Nadal would outplay Ljubicic from the baseline, hold serve easily, and threaten on his return game, only to have Ljubicic snuff out his chances with his serve. That dynamic also played a big role in the deciding tiebreaker. Nadal, knowing he had to win every rally, tightened up on his ground strokes. Ljubicic, more confident with every point, took advantage and ended the match with a roaring forehand up the line.
“A lot of people today,” Ljubicic said when he walked into the pressroom afterward. The 31-year-old probably hasn’t seen that kind of media attendance since his Top 10 glory days in the middle of the last decade. He didn’t waste his chance, opening with a well-measured soliloquy on his win. And why not? As he said, “It was probably the best I’ve ever played in my career.” Ljubicic said he felt from the beginning that he could hang with Nadal from the baseline, and that it was just a matter of him relaxing a little after he saved those break points at 2-3 in the second.
It was really a matter of doing just what he had to do and no more. “I knew if I kept serving well,” Ljubicic said, “and playing aggressive with my service games I would have a chance to win in the end.” For every time that Nadal punched a ball by him on the baseline, Ljubicic was able to fight one off with a strong backhand and then back it up with a heavy serve. He held off break points and came up with a couple of monster holds late in the third to make it to 6-6. It wasn’t until he got up 4-1 in the breaker that I felt like he really had a chance to win. But Ljubicic had given himself the chance and taken it.
Is this a loss Nadal should be worried about? I’d say no. As Ljubicic said, “He played some incredible points. I felt like, What is this? I mean half-volley winners off the baseline. It was impressive.” Nadal lost because he couldn’t break when he had three chances to essentially put the match away. He lost because, by definition, there’s nothing you can do with an “unreturnable” serve. And he lost because he hit short at the end. None of those reasons are abnormal or alarming. Granted, if you put this together with his loss to Davydenko in Doha in January, when he also had a lead and couldn’t close it out, you could make the case that Rafa isn’t winning the crucial points that he once did. But you could also make the case that, compared to his performances at the end of 2009, his play in Indian Wells as a whole shows that he’s more than halfway back to his best form—not bad for his first tournament since the Aussie Open.
This day was about Ljubicic, though. I wrote earlier this week that he had looked cheerful in his diligence on the practice courts, an unglamorous over-30 veteran who has seen some thin times in recent years. But those thin times have also given Ljubicic patience, which is the quality that most came through in his play today. He has a blunt face for a tennis player; it’s not expressive, but it doesn’t hide anything either. All of which made his reaction when he won today that much more gratifying. The tour’s sober father figure let go with a spasm of spontaneous joy, one that led him all the way to the first row, where he gave his wife a hug—this was a big one for him.
The last few years, when his ranking slipped and he struggled to win matches, let alone titles, Ljubicic’s face, which was never what you'd call expressive, had become a stoical mask, his walk heavy with obligation. A tennis player on the downside of his career must steel himself to take losses he once wouldn’t have tolerated. When this happens, you can begin to wonder how much fun he's is having, or even how much he cares. Today we saw Ljubicic rip off this stony mask. My one complaint about the guy is that he doesn't play with much joy. I had no complaints today.