Published Jun 03, 2009
By Pete Bodo
Before we get down to business, let me make one point. There were howls of outrage the other day when I playfully suggested that Roger Federer was trying to bamboozle us when, with a perfectly straight face, he suggested that Nikolay Davydenko was an overlooked threat to win here, (And some who shall remain un-named ought to familiarize themselves with the meaning of that word, "playful" and consider that maybe tennis isn't necessarily, or eternally, a life-or-death matter).
Monf
© AFP/Getty Images
The reason I handled the remark that way is because I found that to be an astonishing bit of wishful thinking, based on my feeling that the only person less certain than I that Davydenko doesn't have a sufficiently well-developed sense of entitlement, and/or that hard-to-define gravitas of someone destined Grand Slam champion, is. . . Davydenko.
We all know tennis at the highest level isn't about the backhands, stab volleys and dropshots - not unless two fit, able, and proven Grand Slam warriors (insert your favorite "N" or "F" word here) are playing the match. Personally, I've always felt that the bigger the occasion, the more likely Davydenko is to come up small.
I understand that's a harsh judgment, although I'd prefer you call it merely an opinion (see that "life-and-death" bit above). And while Davydenko deserves all the credit in the world for winning two Masters Series titles (Paris, 2006; Miami, 2008) and establishing himself as a Top Five fixture for a respectable period, those accomplishments are less valuable as predictors of greater success than proof that the Davydenko is at his best when he operates within the familiar confines of his comfort zone and not feeling a great deal of pressure.
Let's remember, Paris of 2006 was Davydenko's 30th Masters tournament (and it's the Masters Series most likely to produce the "surprise" champion), and near the end of his fifth full year on the tour. Miami - that was Davydenko's piece d'resistance, and it put the final stamp of credibility on his credentials as one of tennis's best supporting actors. But I don't think he's shown the heft of a leading man. If you were Roger Federer a few days ago, looking for a good man to bring out your best with the least risk of upstaging you, isn't Davydenko the guy you'd look to as well?
I thought it telling that the mood at Kolya's press conference yesterday was so jovial. He was cracking jokes left and right (you can check the transcript) and looking utterly relieved. Now maybe that was because he's a good sport, Soderling was still playing out of his gourd, and what are you going to do? The fatalism is understandable and in some ways admirable. But you don't usually find the big dogs, or even the little dogs who think of themselves as big dogs (something many little dogs but few humans do), shedding the disappoint of a big if not bad loss so cavalierly. This is a big opportunity, now that Nadal is lounging alongside his pool back in Mallorca.
BTW, I'm not wedded to this interpretation, nor do I have a grudge against Kolya; if he proves me wrong in the coming months or years, so much the better. You see I know that anything can happen in tennis, and the truly weird thing about sports is that it attracts so many windbags, blowhards and know-it-alls when the great glory of the enterprise, the very soul of sports, is its. . . unpredictability.
We watch sport precisely because there's always a chance that a Robin Soderling will take out a Rafael Nadal - or a Davydenko will come up bigger than we ever dreamed he could on a Grand Slam stage. I'm fine with that, and it's one of the reasons I enjoy sports. It's also one of the reasons I only write predictive previews and engage in bracketology when Abby Lorge holds a gun to my head. The only time I enjoy making a bold prediction is on the rare occasion when I have some very specific reason for doing so. In my business, maybe 10 to 50 people per day ask me a question beginning with, "Who do you think will win when. . ."
I've perfected my standard-issue response: "I have no idea."
So who's going to win today's men's semifinal, Gael Monfils and Roger Federer?
I have no idea.
But here's some of the stuff I've been thinking about, which I'll probably elaborate in greater detail in my post-match dispatch. Both men have built some of the momentum that, if it carries through, can suggest that they were somehow "fated" to win. In Monfils, some of this has to do with this being Roland Garros and he being French, while in Federer's case it has to do with the way mere opponents have deferred to him while dangerous rivals have been scattered like bowling pins - has any player at a recent Grand Slam watched the once steep road before him flatten out and become as wide and smoothly-paved?
Oddly enough, Monfils et al (meaning everyone but Federer) may stand to benefit even more from the convolutions that have shaken the draw here. For only Federer has an enormous amount to lose by failing to win the title here. Everyone else left in the draw is bobbing along happily on the tide of good fortune and refusing to pinch themselves for fear they'll wake up and start feeling the potential enormity of what they're doing. Surely Robin Soderling can't feel too discouraged to see that his opponent in the semifinals of the French Open is volcanic Fernando Gonzalez? And if you're Monfils, and dare to look beyond Federer, isn't it nice to see that it isn't a Nadal or a Murray peering back at you from the other side of the draw?
As the Monfils-Federer match approaches, my gut feeling is that Monfils advantage is that he's playing under the drapeau tricolore (how's that, all you jambon beurre nitpickers?), and aware of just how much it would mean to his countrymen if one of their male compatriots would win the singles title here for the first time since 1983. I understand that Monfils nickname, La Monf, is a construction that pays tribute to him as the equivalent of a natural force (which is why they use the feminine instead of masculine article), yet this is a guy who's been beyond the fourth round in a Grand Slam on exactly one occasion - here, last year.
What on earth are the French going to do if he comes up tall and wins this thing, rename it the Arc d'Monf? Stick a giant papier mache replica of his head atop the Eiffel Tower and paint a pair of Nikes on the base of the structure?
My gut feeling is that Federer's advantage (discounting those 13 majors and such a chronic habit for semifinals that if he entered the NCAA's season-ending basketball tournament, he'd make the Final Four there, too) is also that Monfils is playing under the drapeau tricolore. I don't really think the occasion is too big for Monfils, but I think his emotions may be. I think of him as a guy who loves playing to and for the crowd, and you can't dream up a scenario that would be more inspiring - or more dangerous, in that it could goad him into hamming it up and perhaps allowing his obvious penchant for drama to get in the way of La Monf playing his most efficient and lethal tennis.
If I were Roger Rasheed, my first piece of advice to La Monf would be: Go out there and pretend that this is a quarterfinal of the Swiss Open, and all those sharp-dressed dudes in suits and aviator shades are Swiss clockmakers.
All right, everyone. Enjoy the tennis! This is your Crisis Center post, for discussing all of today's ongoing tennis.
Note: as of 11.20 a.m. TW time, we have moved commenting to an Overflow post. Please use the link below - Rosangel