The Book Club returns as Kamakshi Tandon and I discuss Jon Wertheim's Strokes of Genius: Federer, Nadal and the Greatest Match Ever Played. You can read an excerpt from it on Tennis.com.
Hi Steve,
The book didn't feel rushed to me; I was just surprised it was written that quickly. It didn't change my picture of Federer or Nadal -- there would have to be some pretty unexpected revelations for that to happen -- but I think it's an accurate and nicely painted portrait of the two.
I was being completely facetious about the hating Jon part, of course, but it's true you need a pretty sharp scalpel to put any holes in his stuff. That's useful, because there's bound to be endless poking and prodding with a topic like this. Since it's a match we've all seen and two players we're so familiar with, everyone will have their own spin on every tiny detail.
That inevitably means endless, intricate discussion of even the smallest things -- but hey, That can also be where the fun is.
So here's my spin on the "normalcy effect" of Federer's upbringing. It's definitely nice to see that you can grow up in an ordinary, depressurized environment and still be a great tennis player. But I think what's exceptional that a teenaged Federer made his own call about whether to leave home to attend an academy -- his parents only learned about his decision when they read it in the paper. Maybe it's this self-sufficiency, instilled so early, that allowed him to conquer his earlier temper tantrums, spend large parts of his career without a coach, and get things back together after the struggles of the past year.
You started a lot of discussion about Federer's forehand, and I agree that the idea of it being a "stroke for the masses" probably boils down to the grip (and maybe the unpredictability of the swing -- variety in Federer's case, simple inconsistency for most of us :) Bring someone in off the street, tell them to hit a forehand holding the racquet like Nadal, and they might even struggle to figure out which side of the racquet face to use.
Another hot topic in the comments to your post was whether Jon favoured Federer or Nadal in the book, and I just want to note how cheering it was to see that most people acknowedged that their own preferences probably affected their view.
This brings up something I've been thinking of writing about at some point. Basically, it's been impossible to ignore the tendency of Federer and Nadal fans -- especially Federer fans -- to fiercely deny any criticism of their guy, and not only deny it but then accuse the source of some grand anti-Federer or anti-Nadal agenda.
This kind of militancy isn't a new phenomenon; the current nature of the internet just lays it bare. What is new, however, is the increasing institutionalization of player fandom: regular references to 'Federer fans' and 'Nadal fans' and other players' fans, attributed distinct viewpoints based on their allegiance.
You can see how this happens. People do factor things differently based on their likes and dislikes, and sometimes referring to various camps in a story is just a straightforward way of acknowledging different perspectives. It's an integral part of team sports. Still, the idea that fans of Player X are allowed to see the world differently, simply because they are fans of Player X, has to be contained.
Just look at the stage we've reached with American politics. Independent and fair-minded assessments are no longer demanded or even expected. Instead, it's fully accepted that whoever is speaking will simply be trying to make their side look good and the other side look bad, and then someone from the opposing team will come and do the same thing. And the public is somehow expected to take these two packs of lies and come up with a coherent truth. It's crazy.
So here's to the 'campaign for Fedal disarmament,' as one tag put it.
My general impression is that, quantitatively, there was more Federer than Nadal in the book, though some of the qualitative details around Nadal's experience of the match are better (thanks, Benito). I certainly don't think that Jon wouldn't have tried equally hard with both players, so the differences that emerge are kind of revealing in terms of the players themselves.
To dissect it fully I'd probably have to go on and on for 4,000 words, but I'll spare you and just cite one simple factor: Federer lends himself to the written word, while the things that make Nadal appealing are more non-verbal. Those quirky facial expressions, the action-figure limbs, the accent -- their impact doesn't transfer easily to print.
The other part of this relates to your observation about Jon characterizing Nadal as a 'tough and testy' interview, while you see him as 'quick and poised.' I think much depends on whether you're depending on his answers.
As you say, Steve, Nadal tries to neutralize almost every statement he makes in public unless it's some issue he has a strong opinion about. That's okay because it's part of the way he really thinks, but it's a way of thinking that doesn't lend itself to the media framework. Doing colour material like a blog or a tennis-specific column is a rare luxury, after all. Most reporters covering an event are there either to do daily tournament coverage or feature work, and certain questions need to be answered for the narrative to keep running.
As Jon notes, Nadal "didn't grow up in a media-obsessed culture that thrusts the private lives of celebrities into the public domain... he has neither the interest nor inclination to voice his opinions or open his soul." But "chatting pleasantly and discussing tennis with a bunch of middle-aged men and women, Federer is thoroughly in his element."
Essentially, when it comes to perspectives, Federer is like a zoom lens, Nadal is like a panoramic lens. Say you're in the player lounge at a tournament one day and you stub your toe really hard.
Federer might say, "Ouch! That must have hurt... Yeah, wearing sandals in the player lounge is always trouble because there are so many bags and chairs around.
He'll look at you again as you continue to jump up and down. "It's funny how jumping up and down makes the pain go away faster. I don't know why, but it does."
By now he's almost musing. "Maybe it makes the blood reach there sooner or something. Maybe it's just a distraction. Anyway, it's a pity, but it'll feel better in a few minutes. Hopefully the nail won't go black."
Nadal, on the other hand, might fix you with a grave look and say, "I know it hurts. But think about all the pain and suffering in the world. Compared to that, it's nothing."
Maybe later, you'll be able to appreciate the wisdom of his remark. But at that moment, with your foot still throbbing, you just want to hit him. So you stop jumping and scowl. "You mean like your suffering when I smack you, right now?"
He'll drolly quirk his brow. "You know, if you jump up and down, it makes the pain go away faster. I don't know why, but it does."
Kamakshi