Howdy. The rain this morning kept me from going out to the National Tennis Center to begin reporting from there, but I'm back in the swing of things and will be out at Flushing Meadows starting tomorrow, come hell or high water. The latter isn't coming—it's already arrived and apparently settled in for a few days. But I don't care. It's like Gary Lee sings in his classic, The Rodeo Song.
Well, it's 40-below and I dont give a ---- , got a heater in my truck and I'm off to the rodeo . . .
Okay, we'll make it an air-conditioner in my wife's car, but don't sweat the details.
Anyway, we'll have full-on U.S. Open coverage starting now, and let's kick it off with the newly energized Roger Federer. Yesterday, he won Cincinnati for the fourth time, tying Mats Wilander's record. He's also the first man to win Cincinnati (the Western and Southern Financial Group Masters) in back-to-back years since Andre Agassi did it in 1995 and 1996. Want more? This was Federer's 63rd tour-level title, which puts him into a tie for fifth with Bjorn Borg on the all-time Open era list.
Actually, that stat is as much of an encomium for Borg as it is for Federer. Borg played in Grand Slam events for nine years (if you're big enough to toss out that single, first-round loss he suffered at the U.S. Open in 1972, when he was all of 16 years old). Federer is in his 11th year on the majors highway, and yes, I am throwing out those two first-round losses he suffered in his debut year playing the majors, 1999. Borg certainly packed a lot of winning into his unique, live fast/die young career.
I posted some thoughts on Federer over at ESPN earlier today, and am already getting an earful from the the FDL (Federer Defense League) types. So all is well in the world.
In that post I touched on what I imagine has been Paul Annacone's role in Federer's instant, just-add-water resurgence, and it would be foolhardy to call Federer's recent form anything but that. Yeah, yeah, he's been more ragged than in the past, still prone to let opportunities slip that even two or three years ago he might have converted into scoreboard gold. Matches that he could once be relied upon to win 6-3, 6-4 often now go 5-7, 6-7, 6-3. Like many of the rest of us, he's having to work harder to earn the same amount he once easily sucked up. You know what? That's life for a tennis player in his late 20s. Deal with it, because that's what he's doing it, and with an infant propped on each hip no less.
I had to laugh when I read this quote from Roger: "I've been playing well the past couple weeks, and today was just another proof that I'm playing really well."
Does anyone else think that this near-tautology is telling? It's as if Federer himself needed proof that he's playing well—as if thinking and feeling that he's playing well were not quite enough. Federer is no dummy. He knows better than anyone else that a guy in his position can't just play well, come what may. He needs to quantify his level with hard data of the kind that crystallized when he beat Mardy Fish 6-7 (5), 7-6 (1), 6-4. And if you were one of those longing for the scoreline to read more like 7-5, 7-6, forget it. Those days are gone for good.
But let's get back to the coaching issue. Federer is an odd duck when it comes to his training. Like many other great players, he goes light on attributing his success (or failure) to a mentor. For one thing, a player of his quality knows that the L or W is always on his racket; neither Lennart Bergalin nor Larry Stefanki nor Brad Gilbert ever had to swing the stick whole looking down the barrel of break point. For another, the kind of help he seeks or needs now is highly-targeted. This is not a guy looking for "life lessons" or leaning on a father figure.
In some ways, though, Federer is even more of a mentoraphobe than were many of the other Open era greats. His very approach to dealing with coaches, from hiring them to waxing profound (or not, in his case) on their impact and value is decidedly cool. Federer interviews, hires and fires coaches the way a CEO handles consultants. He wants very specific things from them. He keeps most of his coaches at arm's length, which is an appropriate distance for a man who has a highly developed sense of himself, his talents, and what he wants out of career as well as life. Nor does Federer complain if a coach (Tony Roche comes to mind) doesn't feel obliged to abandon home, family and life for his player's greater glory. Cyclist Lance Armstrong's autobiography was called, It's Not the Bike. Federer's could well be, It's Not the Coach.
I confess that I haven't found much discussion of exactly what Annacone did for Federer in their recent workouts, so what follows is highly speculative. But I wouldn't underestimate the role Annacone played in helping Federer take inventory of his game. I know Annacone and his MO well enough to feel entitled to connecting some dots.
It makes a great deal of sense for Federer to have turned to Annacone after Wimbledon, given that Annacone is an American with a solid understanding of hard-court fundamentals (not that Federer lacks an adequate grasp of those) and that he coached Federer's buddy, five-time U.S. Open titlist Pete Sampras. Federer would certainly have gotten plenty of food for thought by merely asking Annacone how he managed Sampras, and what he chose to prioritize in his hard court game.
A forensic analysis of Federer's post-Wimbledon game, as well as his own analysis of his successful strategy and tactics, suggests that he's turned over a new leaf. The best way to describe it may be that he's less content than before to let other guys bring the game to him. He wants to take it to them. And it's hard to imagine that this 180-degree change of attitude occurred without Annacone putting in his two cents.
Aggressive, all-court tennis with an emphasis on the attack is in Annacone's DNA. He made a living as a relentless, chip-and-charge attacker. Federer has said that he's not about to become one of that breed, but to me that tells me that some discussion has taken place—not of chipping-and-charging as a style, but a useful tool, perhaps even a yardstick by which to measure a player's appetite for aggressive returning. If you don't consider chip-and-charge a potential tactic, you may not have a sufficiently aggressive mindset.
The two players with whom Annacone worked most profitably (Sampras and Tim Henman) both had high attack capabilities. I know for a fact that Annacone spent a lot of time urging Sampras to use his weapons, to reach out to take a match, rather than relying on his general talent to outplay his opponents under whatever rules of engagement they chose. Annacone liked to remind Sampras his skill set is fundamentally different from that of Andre Agassi, even though Sampras actually enjoyed matching baseline wits with his rival—a penchant that sometimes made Annacone's life, if not Sampras', more difficult.
You remember what Federer said after he waxed Marcos Baghdatis in Cincinnati: "After Wimbledon I had six weeks to work on a few things. On the hard courts it’s nice to play forwards and not always be defensive and let the other guy dictate. I’m happy that the hard work is paying off right away."
So what "hard work" is he talking about? Surely it isn't aerobic training, nor is it hours spent doing cross-court and down-the-line drills under a hot sun. What he appears to have worked on, judging from his last two tournaments, is taking charge. Imposing himself. Getting into the grill of his opponent to declare, I'm Roger Federer—and you're not. No more of this take a swing and get the ball back into play; the rest will take care of itself. Not with guys like Robin Soderling, Tomas Berdych, David Nalbandian, and others bringing the game to you.
It's difficult to imagine that Annacone wasn't party to that process, and there's nothing wrong with The Mighty Fed keeping all that on the down low. A guy who's made a point of saying he was "collecting information" on his rivals knows the value of intelligence and the wisdom of doing more collecting than broadcasting.
Skeptics among you will surely say that Federer played only three matches enroute to the Cincy title. Or that the hard courts of the U.S. Open Series play right into his strengths; some resurgence was to be expected. After all, the last title TMF won, seven long months ago, was Down Under, on a hard court. It may be stretching it to claim that, coach or no coach, Federer has undergone a makeover.
I don't know the truth about that, but I do think he's needed to re-invent himself, and a final and title in back-to-back Masters events is a hail of a good way to start. To my mind, he's the odds-on favorite at the U.S. Open. I don't think you can expect him to be money in the bank, the way he once was. You can re-invent yourself, alright, but you can't get back the legs or neurological reaction of a 22-year old.
There are some battles even Roger Federer can't win, with or without a coach.
P.S. — try to stay on topic, at least until this evening. I'll see y'all here tomorrow morning.