Big. . .Guts

My son Luke's part-time nanny, a striking, 6-foot tall blond Czech girl named Jana (her other part-time is modeling), came out to the matches with me today. I always ask her to give me photos and ads she's in, so that when Luke turns 15 or so and starts struttin' his stuff for the girls, I can sit him down and say, "See her,cowpoke? Without her, you'd still be walking around with a stinky behind, so don't even think about throwing out your chest and playing the Big Man around the girls. . ."

Anyway, I got Jana settled in the Grandstand (dang! I forgot to get Ray Stonada's cell phone number) for the Marat Safin-Olivier Rochus match, and then headed back to the press room only to hear the announcement that Mats Wilander was signing autographs out at the Lexus display. I got there just as Mats was finishing up, and snuck up to the table unnoticed. I grabbed a program from the stack and said, "Please sign this,To the Muhammad Ali of Tennis Writers. . ."

Mats looked up and laughed, and I told him I wanted to have a chat about The Quote Heard Round the World. Forgive the vulgarity, but you need to read the real quote to understand the gravity (and, to some degree, lunacy) of the situation. After Federer lost the Roland Garros final to Rafael Nadal, Wilander's blunt assessment was that Federer had "no balls" in the match, and acquiesced to Nadal far too meekly and un-competitively after that dazzling first set. For a good contextual starter, try this, from Linda Pearce of The Age.

The blow-back from Mats' statements was immediate, and the story took on a life of its own. Confronted with the quote, Federer made an ominous remark about people needing to be a little careful, because the things they say can cost them friendships. I thought that Wilander's analysis was crude, but supportable - and certainly arguable. I discussed this with Scott Price of Sports Illustrated , who's still baffled that Wilander could say such a thing.

Like I said, the story took on a life of its own.

A part of me wants to give Wilander every benefit of the doubt in this, because he's one of the players I most respected and admired, partly because he seemed to me to have big. . .guts. His only weapon was his mind, yet he didn't have an ugly grinder's game; there was something ineffable and silken about the way he moved, and his strokes were so clean they almost squeaked. It didn't hurt that, even at the peak of his fame game and reputation (he won three of the four Grand Slams in his epic year, 1988, despite having no real weapons other than his mind), he was a down-to-earth guy, most often seen in jeans and t-shirts, who loved music and lived life more like a guitar player (he was a decent one) than a tennis pro, but without the flash and flamboyance of your typical rock star or wannabe.

In fact, with life having engraved a few more lines etched on his face, a more gravelly voice, and longer hair, Wilander now bears an even greater resemblance to the musician he always reminded me of, both in his manner and sensibility, Paul Westerberg, vocalist, songwriter and front man for The Replacements (The [Mighty] Mats!). Mind you, I'm not real enthusiastic about these kinds of comparisons, but I have a weak spot for the Mats - both of them.

I asked Mats if the repercussions made him regret his blunt assessment. He didn't hesitate a beat. "Not at all, he said, as we walked back toward the player lounge. "I stand by it one-hundred per cent. I think it was right and  I think everybody else thinks so, too, even the commentators. John (McEnroe), John Lloyd, all of them told me they agreed."

I didn't have a tape recorder (I've got documentation though; more about that later) so I'm paraphrasing here and there, but this is what Mats went on to say. This, by the way, is one atypical Swede, with a penchant for animation and gesticulations of which an Italian would be proud.

How could Federer go into that match and not change his approach, especially after having played a lot more aggressively in that great Rome final (Federer had match-points in that one)? I can't believe he and Tony Roche didn't sit down before that match and say, 'Okay, let's figure out what it's going to take to beat this guy on his best surface.'

And the thing is, there is a way, there is unless you're willing to just give up and say he's the best - that is, treat Nadal the way everyone treats Federer. But you have to willing to make changes in your game and do some things differently to beat Nadal on clay, you have to play with balls (Mats does seem to like that choice of words, although I think I'll substitute "guts" from here on in). The reason it take guts is because if you change, you admit something - 'I need to do something a little different to win this match' - and if admit that and then lose, then what? It doesn't look too good for you. Too bad. You still have to try.

To not change your game in that situation, and just go in thinking you're going to feel your way around and hit winners from the backcourt against Nadal on clay, that's crazy. Nadal really does think Federer is a legend, but I guarantee you that the minute they actually step on a court, that's not a legend on the other side, that's just another guy you want to beat and he means nothing to Nadal. Nothing.

Look, I know what's like to play with no b. . . guts. I did that at Wimbledon. I played with guts the first two or three rounds, but when I got to the quarters, and there's (serve-and-volley master) Pat Cash, I shriveled up. I thought I had to come in on everything, because that's what you did at Wimbledon, and that was Cash across the net.

That's why I think Roger's not the greatest player, ever, not by a long shot. Not yet, anyway. In this way, he's very suspect, in terms of having the ability to think and execute a strategy where you say, 'You're the better player in this situation, so I'm going to do something that I feel really uncomfortable about, but you're gonna feel worse.' That takes guts. Roger didn't do that. He hasn't done it against Nadal ever, except in Rome.

So that's kind of a bail-out. I mean, it was the same at Wimbledon, in a way, where I don't believe Roger came in behind a single second serve. But okay, it's different at Wimbledon, where Roger's entitled to think, 'I can play exactly in the most comfortable way for me and I'm going to beat everyone, including Nadal, seven out of ten times'. But anywhere else, it's a different story.

Look, it doesn't take guts to dive after a ball and try to hit a huge forehand back for a winner. It does take guts to dig that ball out and throw up a lob, keep that point going. The thing it takes to keep a point going, that's what takes guts. I think I had big guts as a tennis player, I was always looking to find every edge and advantage in how to play a guy, even if it was trying something I wasn't very confident about. John (McEnroe) did exactly that against Ivan Lendl. Sure the top guys always say, 'I'm going to play my game, see who comes out on top.' But John didn't really start beating Lendl until he started coming in on everything - something he didn't really feel he had to do against other guys.

I mean, this is a weird situation. Roger may win 15 Grand Slams and go down as the greatest player ever, but he may not even be the best in his own time, at least when it comes to one guy. So you have to bring all your tools to bear, and Roger has all the tools. It's easier to forgive a guy like Bjorn Borg, who decided he couldn't beat McEnroe, because he had limited tools. But Federer? What is it the guy can't do?

So he's really bailing out, and that's something great players don't do.

Wilander certainly seemed wedded to his interpretation of the Roland Garros final, so there was just one thing left to ask: Had he seen Federer and discussed the controversy with him? He said, "I haven't bumped into him since Roland Garros, but I think it's okay. Most sportswriters picked up that single quote, out of everything I said, and that's unfortunate."

I peeled away from that conversation, because we'd been joined by Richard Deitsch, who writes under the Media Circus banner at SI. He later told me that although he wanted to talk to Mats about Marat Safin, he had trouble keeping the former World No. 1 from returning to the Federer topic.

Mats had also told me that the blog at his website has the full, 20-minute interview that started the firestorm, in down-loadable form. I pulled it down and listened to it just a few minutes ago, and it's classic stuff - don't miss it. I'm serious. If you can get by the immediate reason you're listening and watching, you'll find that there's some priceless stuff in there; it's like somebody cracked open Mats' chest with a cleaver (guess he beat Roger Federer to it) and pulled out all the raw, aggressive, uncensored, manic, guttural, brilliant and lunatic howlings of the warrior's spirit.

It's an added bonus that it looks like Mats had a few pops before letting it rip in the interview, and he uses his infamous phrase so often that by the end I was rolling on the floor laughing; it's just so over-the-top that it borders on the obsessional. I'll never order Rocky Mountain oysters again without thinking of Mats and shaking my head. This tape stands a chance of becoming Mats' very own Tom Cruise-on-Oprah moment.

Well, you can agree or not with Mats point-of-view, or feel however about the entire incident, the video/audio clip, and that tennis-related ramifications. I always loved this guy, and I always will, because he's got. . . Never mind.

>