by Pete Bodo*
Tomas "Bird is the Word" Berdych will play his first Grand Slam final on Sunday, against the California Condor of men's tennis, Rafael Nadal. The ticket to the championship match for each player was punched in the second-set tiebreaker of his semifinal match, which brings up an interesting aspect of that particular scoring gizmo.
The tiebreaker is highly regarded for its general dramatic value, but even moreso as the light at the end of the tunnel for most excruciatingly close matches. That isn't true here at Wimbledon, of course, where the Lords of SW19 eschew such crass, practical, melodramatic, broadcast-friendly devices. It's surprising, given that these same guys went soft a few decades ago and began to provide chairs on court. This enables the players to sit down and put up their feet on changeovers, although it's not like they have to walk three miles uphill to the other end of the court, even if they do make that commute with monotonous frequency.
Yet as crucial as that match-ending tiebreaker can be, second-set tiebreakers in best-of-five matches are an even more deadly minefield. You lose the first set, then the second-set tiebreaker, and you're usually out of the match without even experiencing the bittersweet pleasure of having played it. You can ask Novak Djokovic or Andy Murray about all that today, although I expect they'd just as soon not talk about it.
Both men slid out in the chicane of the tiebreaker in the second set today and never recovered, leaving Berdych and Nadal to play for the championship on Sunday. Berdych wriggled through the twisty-turny tiebreaker, but he bumped the guard rails all the way. That, despite the fact that he rocketed out to a 3-0 lead, and held four consecutive set points, all of which he blew in his signature big way.
Unfortunately for Djokovic, he was unable to capitalize on his own resurrection. After turning the score around, he failed to covert two set points of his own, and ultimately lost it, 11-9. Djokovic's two opportunities were the most important ones, because he was fighting for survival, and once he lost the tiebreaker it was manifest that he'd expended too much physical and emotional energy to mount a new campaign—not against a player with so punishing a serve and such penetrating groundstrokes.
Nadal's tiebreaker was slightly less dramatic, and distinguished by an uncharacteristic lapse that nearly allowed Murray to pull even at a set apiece. Each man managed just one mini-break over the first 10 points and Murray, who had been getting deeper and deeper under the skin of Nadal's service games, appeared on the brink of a breakthrough when he served a pair of aces to go up 5-4. Nadal held the next point, but then double-faulted (yes, you read that right) to present Murray with a set point. But Nadal dismissed it with a brilliant, heavily cut cross-court backhand volley off a crisp backhand passing shot.
A let-cord passing shot by Nadal, followed by a forehand that forced a forehand error, ended the tiebreaker, 8-6. Like Djokovic before him, Murray found himself facing an ugly task better suited to a government mule. And he had no taste for it, either. It was a pity, too, because the general level of execution in both matches was terrific; the tiebreakers put the kibosh on that.
That uncharacteristic double-fault by Nadal was a shocker, and you had to wonder if the gift didn't do Murray more harm than good. But he denied that. "If you look at the next point," Murray said, "He played it really well, hit a big forehand, then hit a good pass (that cut volley), a great angled volley. There's nothing you can do about that."
Or, as Nadal explained when he was asked if he was surprised to win in three sets: "Sure, but he had a few chances. It was in three sets, but this match was decided in very small things. If Andy makes this point (after the double-fault) and win the second set, maybe we are still there. So everything can change, in just one point."
Or one tiebreaker. It's too bad the tiebreaker stopped both matches dead in their tracks, because the level of execution was high, the match-ups attractive. In trying to fend off the penetrations of Berdych's serve and stinging groundstrokes, Djokovic played some of the best defensive tennis ever seen at Wimbledon. But the keyword was "defensive." As he said afterward: "I wasn't going for the shots too much. You know, I was kind of waiting for him to make mistake. I was wrong."
But you could hardly blame Djokovic for laying back and hoping that Berdych would start spraying balls. He came close to doing that in the tiebreaker, when all those set points popped up on the scoreboard. Like Vera Zvonareva, who will play the women's final tomorrow, Berdych has a rich history of finding creative ways to lose matches that he obviously has the game to win. And like Zvonareva, Berdych believes those days are over; he's worked hard to overcome a streak of inconsistency (his "head case" tendencies) that has been as baffling as it's been spectacular. In fact, he mounted a spirited self-defense when he was asked if he viewed himself as a reformed under-performer.
"No, definitely not. I know what I'm doing. Every day I'm gonna go practice. I know why I'm doing that. . .I'm somebody who is trying to win one, two matches in the Grand Slam tournament. Now I'm in a different position. Right now, I'm in the final, but I'm trying the same way I did before. And, you know, that's just how it is in tennis. I don't think it's the right way, just to be looking at the past or to the future. It's a really tough sport and you can face really tough opponents since the first round. Right now, I'm in the final and that's it."
He added that he understands that his movement is the weakest part of his game, and said he's been working on it, "almost every day." And he said it was pretty hard work.
Movement is one of Nadal's strengths, and today he was quick as a cobra. One of the persistent problems Murray faces in matches with Nadal is the degree to which Nadal can deal with Murray's counter-punching game. Murray has genius for opening up the court and bushwhacking players who are too easily tempted to go for the obvious shot, or lack the wheels to track and return those tricky, angled balls, or the steady hand required to turn the tables when Murray gets cute and toys with the pace of his shots. But Nadal is particularly well-suited to deal with such chicanery.
!102585160 One particular rally in the seventh game of the second set today was telling. Murray decided to engage Nadal in a cat-and-mouse, backhand-to-backhand slice rally. We've seen this kind of thing before; each guy hits six, seven, nine sliced backhands to the other, barely moving his feet. Then someone breaks the pattern and they hit the reset button, starting the rally as if it were a new one. It's like watching a commercial for the slice backhand: And now, we return to our regular programming. . . But this time, after two or three shots, Nadal stepped around and simply blasted a forehand. It looked like he hit it has hard as he could.
Trouble was, he hit it so exuberantly that the ball cut a furrow in the dirt beyond the baseline. It was such an impatient, bellicose gesture that the crowed actually laughed. It was like they were watching a guy at the county fair drive the marker up—and clear through—that bell right above the "strongman" level.
But make no mistake, Nadal will probably have his hands full on Sunday. And he knows it. "He (Berdych) did amazing tournament. He beat No. 2 and No. 3 players. Very good match against Federer, very good today against Djokovic. He saved difficult match against Brands. He's the best of his draw so nobody could be more difficult than Tomas to play in this final."
Nadal recited Berdych's assets: very aggressive, very good serve, very good flat shots from the baseline. In so doing, he pretty much created the Frankenstein that one Dr. Roger Federer might design in an effort to rid the world of Nadal. Murray doesn't quite fit the bill, although he comes close. Think someone more like Juan Martin del Potro. Berdych isn't too far off that model, and if there's a tipping point to nudge the scales Nadal's way on Sunday, it might be an irritatingly psychological one—the edge given him by his experience playing major finals (this being Berdych's first).
My own feeling is that Berdych might have plenty of trouble handling Nadal's serve (Murray, a superb returner, had difficulties with it today), which suggests we might see a few tiebreakers. And judging from each finalist's performance in the chicane today, I have to give the edge to Nadal. But make no mistake, Berdych isn't going to be pacing the floor in his bedroom on Saturday night.
"The best thing what I like is a good sleep," Berdych admitted today. "I don't think is anything gonna disturb me from that."