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by Pete Bodo
Mornin'. I was not exactly surprised by some of the reactions to my comments about Dinara Safina in yesterday's post; I'm accustomed to the ease with which some people toss around words like "sexist" and "misogynist." Such ease that it seems almost Pavlovian.
If you examine the record you'll see that I'm an equal-opportunity offender. I can recall when some readers went ballistic after I described Andre' Agassi's "man boobs," and when I repeatedly called Nalbandian "Tubby Dave" (noting his resemblance to a school bus in that yellow kit he favored at the time). But far be it from me to rob the pious of their opportunity to leap to the moral high-ground, and being a scold is its own reward, if you get my drift . . .
When it comes to (attempted) humor, or snark, take it for what it is: a device. Something meant to bring a smile to your face, but if you're addicted to the frown that's your business. Think of me as the person who enables you to get in touch with your anger or desire to judge. I don't mind.
Anyway, my own bottom line is that Dinara Safina is a professional athlete and ought to be judged by the standards and values of her profession. Larissa Savchenko, that marvelous doubles player, never met a cream puff she didn't like, and it appeared to have some bearing on her career. Pointing it out may not have been polite, but it was certainly relevant to any discussion of her career and results. But godot bless her; I believe everyone ought to follow his or her lodestar, even if it just leads around the corner to the bakery.
The issue of whether or not Safina really is out of shape is a legitimate one, though. Does she really have a unique body that enables her to have an apparent pot belly while being in terrific shape? Perhaps. I was amazed, attending a few triathlons in which my wife took part, to see how many of the competitors who finished well ahead of her (and she was pretty good) looked nothing like the fine athletes they clearly were. In fact, some had pot bellies, love handles, man boobs and any or all of the rest.
And that was in a fitness-based athletic contest. One thing some of you missed here is that you can be in relatively poor physical condition and still survive on the tour; you can win plenty of matches with a combination of skill and the same level of fitness as an ordinary citizen who happens to be conscious of his or her degree of fitness and weight. In fact, if your day job consists of whacking tennis balls, it's impossible not to be reasonably fit. The questions are, how much fitter could, or should, you be? And to what degree can fitness compensate for your other shortcomings?
I look at a Svetlana Kuznetsova, or a recent version of Marcos Baghdatis, and think: these players might do better if they were a little more attentive to their fitness. If they lost some of that body fat. Do they also have the kind of body as Safina? Can anything be done about it, and if not, is anyone going to file a class-action suit against those magazines that never fail to promise, in a cover line, to show you the way to develop those proverbial "six-pack abs?"
What about Mardy Fish, about whom I wrote during the Miami tournament. Was the Mardy Fish of 18 months and 25 pounds ago the "natural" Mardy (we certainly were accustomed to seeing him that way)? And if he was, and it had no impact on his game and results, why did he bother to become the fit Fish of today (dang it, I thought I could find a piscatorial pun somewhere in there!). Why would anyone bother?
You want to know if fat is an issue or not, go ask Martina Navratilova. She ballooned out early in here career (oh, I know, Czech women raised on plum dumpling all have that body type!) but then she started taking care of herself, embraced a diet and fitness regimen that some might even call harsh. She began to behave more, rather than less, like a. . . professional. Then she won everything in sight for nearly a decade.
Tennis is not a fitness-driven sport, although it's become more of one in recent years, and the higher you go in the food chain the more relevant fitness becomes. But skill and competitive determination play an enormous role in tennis, which is why tennis has such a rich history of out-of-shape players winning in spite of a fitness deficit. The weird thing to me is why it ought to be taboo, in some minds, to raise such issues. If Safina were winning tennis matches, I certainly wouldn't be making remarks about her tummy (okay, I would, but only if I thought I had some clever quip to offer).
Moving on, two young players especially bear watching in the coming days, and I hope one or both of them is still around when I arrive in Paris early Monday. Thiemo De Bakker of the Netherlands and Leonardo Mayer of Argentina. These youngsters are not exactly a secret; there's been a bit of a buzz about both of them now and then. But both of them face a potentially career-shaping moment in Paris.
De Bakker is 21 and ranked No. 50, while Mayer is 23 and No. 57. You can't call either of these guys a prodigy; compare their records to that of Rafael Nadal at the same age and you might be impelled to ask, Why them? Well, both of them, and Mayer moreso than de Bakker because of the age difference, are at the point where they ought to make a big upward move if they hope to be seen as Top 10 or even Top 20 material. Both of them are in the third round, and both have interesting match-ups of the kind they'll need to win more frequently. De Bakker plays Jo-Wilfried Tsonga next, and Mayer has Marin Cilic. Which, if either, will pull the big upset?
Condolences to fans of Gael Monfils, who lost to Fabio Fognini today, 9-7 in the fifth: That's a tough way to have to leave your own party. All credit to Fognini, though. When the match was suspended yesterday evening, it seemed like a great break for Monfils, for the same reason that a suspension is a benefit for any favorite (how often have we seen a seed in trouble literally begging the tournament referee to suspend play because of darkness, rain, or an imminent meteor shower).
The break, especially an overnight one, gives the favorite a chance to re-group, and it usually increases the degree of pressure felt by the underdog, who's apt to spend the night of the break tossing and turning, cursing the fate that prevented him finishing what is a monumental, nerve-wracking task. It takes a lot of poise for an underdog to go out the following day and pick right up where he left off; it's far more likely that he'll remember his station in life, and be tempted to accept defeat knowing he has a reasonable excuse to fall back on.
By contrast, a favorite often flourishes when he's been granted a stay of execution. The career of a great player is built upon narrow escapes, unexpected but fully exploited opportunities, a willingness to take charge when the slate is wiped clean, and providence.
Monfils has been building a solid Roland Garros resume these past few years, and showing an increasing immunity to Mauresmo Syndrome (the condition that keeps native players from doing well in their domestic championships), but this loss represents a significant setback for him. Now, it's back to Square One for 2011, and all the usual questions will be raised at this time next year. You don't want to draw sweeping conclusions from a single match, but this one was a bad one to lose at this stage of Monfils career.
Feel free to use this post as a Crisis Center, and I'll be back with you tomorrow. Bobby C. may be around this weekend to spread a little love for the WTA.