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by Pete Bodo
Let's put this very simply: If I were to ask you, a week ago, to name the four finalists at Indian Wells, how many of you would have said: Wozniacki, Jankovic, Roddick and Ljubicic? Or, not to open old tennis wounds, but what kinds of odds would a bookmaker have given you on that quartet? Sure, we get the occasional surprise semifinalist (or two) at most important events, but this line-up was utterly unexpected - if not inexplicable.
After all, Jankovic is a former world No. 1, Wozniacki is the defending U.S. Open finalist and rising young talent, Roddick plays well on hard courts in the U.S. and Ljubicic is a former Top 5 player whose career-defining weakness has been the inability to perform up to his ranking and talent in majors (by my count, using fingers and toes, he lost in the first round in 20 of his 41 majors, and it's not like he was all about fourth-round or semifinals in those others). Indian Wells is a Masters 1000, not a major, ergo. . .
Still, in context, this finals quartet is borderline astonishing. Wasn't it just a year ago that everyone at this point in the year was still fixated on a rivalry for the generations? Expecting Jankovic to right her listing ship to recapture her No. 1 ranking, with nary a Belgian in sight? Speaking of Belgians, what happened to them at Indian Wells, the closest thing Kim Clijsters has to a home tournament (record-wise) and the next scheduled stop (after Melbourne) on the Justine Henin comeback tour? Maybe it's a good thing Venus and Serena Williams skipped this event; it would have been unslightly to see those icons run afoul of a Bethanie Mattek-Sands here, a Sybille Bammer there. Maybe they know something we don't. . .
The WTA free-for-all is easier to rationalize, of course, because of the Williams factor. But for gosh sakes, when was the last time the four finalists in a Masters/Premier Mandatory event had a grand total of one Grand Slam singles title between them? Which brings us to the most striking element in this tournament: the collective "failure" of that gifted ATP trio, Novak Djokovic, Nadal and Andy Murray. Nadal gets a bit of a pass for various reasons, including his proven track record in big events and, more important, his having lost to the man who went on to win the whole shootin' match. But the other two? I see question marks, all over the place.
A year ago, when all of tennis could be viewed through the prism of the Federer vs. Nadal rivalry, you could understand the shortcomings of Djokovic or Murray, and spend quality time wondering either of them could become the third (or third and fourth) wheel in the rivalry instead of a mere speed bump that Federer or Nadal can be counted on to overcome. Both of those challengers lost ground this week.
For Murray, the idea that a given tournament is "his to lose" is either a kiss of death or a challenge that the Scot takes a wee bit too literally. For his fans, though, the good news is that it's unlikely that Wimbledon will ever be considered his to lose - so maybe he'll find a way to win that one yet. Meanwhile, the growing suspicion about Djokovic is that - and this really is the best way I can think of to put it - he's just farting around. Neither of these two guys can complain about the gridlock imposed on the game by Roger and Rafa; neither is clearly outclassed by those towering players, especially in sub-major events, where they could picking up valuable points, credibility and confidence. But who stepped in to fill the shoes left empty by Federer and Nadal? Roddick and Ljubicic.
The men's final was entertaining, with the pleasing structure and rigorous economy that two men who have no fear of letting it rip when it comes to the serve can impose on a match. Among other things, the final was a testament to the value of the tiebreaker, although I perversely thought it might be fun to make those two big galoots play it out in deuce sets.
One pleasant side effect of the tiebreaker is that it allows both players to play fairly relaxed tennis, knowing that if their serves are big enough, they don't have to be overly stressed about getting a crucial break. Things are going to come to a head and get settled sooner rather than later in any event, and men with firepower like Roddick and Ljubicic possess are generally content to take their chances in the tiebreaker - at least until they get to 5-4 or 6-6 in the tiebreaker, at which time the familiar dread of just plain blowing it sometimes kicks in. A tiebreaker set is like a river that's both calm and swift; it gets to where it's going pretty quickly, despite the great volume.
Another good thing about the tiebreaker is that it helps deaden the pain of loss in a match like the Indian Wells final. You know what the players, especially the men, and most especially the man who like to crank up dial on serving power, like to say: The tiebreaker is a crapshoot. . .it can go either way in a tiebreaker. . . you need a little luck to win a 'breaker. All of that amounts to certain amount of psychic absolution. Sure I lost, but hey, don't look at me, we were playing tiebreakers! There's a reason why top players like to play tiebreakers instead of proper sets in practice. A guy wins a tiebreaker off you, it's no big deal. It's a crapshoot, remember? But a guy breaks your serve and holds his at least one time more to win a set? Now that's something like an insult - and a confidence booster for the lesser of the two players.
So it's a bit counter-intuitive, but losing a close deuce set (see "R" for Roddick, cross-referenced with "F" for Federer and "W" for Wimbledon) compared to a tiebreaker can seem like cruel and unusual punishment. You don't have a quick and painless out (well, he got the mini-break on the second point, and with his serve, that pretty much spelled the end of me!). Beating a guy in a tiebreaker is like shooting him at 350 yards with a high-powered rifle; winning a deuce set 12-10, or perchance 18-16, is like having beaten your opponent to death with a rock. It's more painful for loser, and perhaps more primally satisfying for the winner.
All that raises the interesting question: is the tiebreaker better for tennis, strictly in terms of quality of play and the significance of the results? That's a tough one. Remember that tennis is a day-to-day sport, with everyone's form fluctuating on regular basis. Not every match has to be the battle of Stalingrad, although the two majors (Wimbledon and the French Open) that insist on playing out even five-set matches in a deuce fifth-set format want you to think it is, and try to capitalize on the fact that any fifth-set match that goes beyond 6-6 ascends to a higher place in the lore and legend of the game.
That's fair enough, I guess, but personally I like the brio of tiebreaker sets, and the way they suggest that there's a "to be continued. . ." element to a match decided by a pair or even trio tiebreakers. There's always that little question mark when a match is decided by tiebreakers; it that way, it's a more fitting format for your times. A guy, or woman, who loses two tiebreaker sets has plenty of reason to moan or groan, but he can reap great hopes, too. Tiebreakers and tense and exciting, and they're certainly less than definitive - to whatever extent any tennis match can be that. They're bloodless executions, which is fitting because everyone in tennis lives to fight another day anyway.