Fireworks

MELBOURNE—Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, it’s a special occasion by now, something outside the normal run of a tournament, even a Grand Slam. Their matches aren’t about No. 1, or even, to this viewer, about who’s the greatest tennis player ever. They feel like reverse exhibitions—exhibitions not for fun and shotmaking, though there’s plenty of the latter; exhibitions of how well real tennis can be played.

This one, played to the accompaniment of fireworks on a national holiday, was memorable for tension most of all, with three dramatically concluded, go-either-way sets, and at least a dozen moments of court-expanding brilliance that were better than anything we’d seen before in the tournament. There were funks and chokes and safe play and terrible shots on break points by both guys, but that’s how five-setters go. This one was in doubt until Federer’s final forehand sailed long. It took the most jaw-dropping get of the evening, in fact, Nadal’s scrambling, I-am-not-gonna-let-this-ball-bounce-twice lob at 5-4, that dropped out of the sky and onto the baseline on break point, to keep it from going longer, perhaps much longer. There are match points; are there match-saving points? That was one.

My highlights and observations from Rod Laver Arena at Nadal-Federer/Federer-Nadal XXVII, cherry-picking style.

—At 7:30, the crowd can see the players walking down the tunnel on the big screen in the stadium. There’s a rise in volume as Federer appears on the screen, filling it, looking like one big headband, in front of Nadal. It ascends to a roar as Federer walks onto the court, much smaller now but in the flesh. The camera zooms in on Nadal, who’s still in the tunnel and who seems buoyed by the noise. He picks up his bags and moves out with a spring in his step. It’s a rare moment in tennis, or just about anything else, where each competitor feels like they have top billing. Camera phones click in Federer’s direction, then shift en masse over to Nadal as he enters, customary Babolat in his left hand.

—The two are asked by chair umpire Jake Garner to pose for a photo together before the coin toss. This is typically done after the toss, but Federer and Nadal come together automatically, and their arms immediately reach for each other’s backs. On the one hand, you might say they’re well versed in this, from many matches and exhibitions over the years. On the other hand, they act a little like family.

—Early on, the audience backs Federer. He plays like he hears them. The Federer Flurry is turning into a tradition here. He opened with three quick and brilliant games in his last match, against del Potro, and he does something similar now. The first few points—good serve, easy forehand winner—look a lot like the points he played against Nadal in London two months ago. Federer puts a stamp on the start of this match with a crosscourt backhand winner hit from a deep knee bend.

Asked about this period of the match, Nadal says later, “It’s impossible [for me] to rise that high.”

—As in the del Potro match, though, Federer’s flurry doesn’t stick to the ground. At 4-2, he serves and volleys twice and loses the points. For the match, he goes 35 of 57 from the net. Nadal’s topspin passes are uniquely heavy, but Federer’s forays forward lack conviction, the aggressive footwork and predatory mindset that dyed-in-the-wool net-rushers have. Pat Rafter is doing sideline commentary; he had that mindset like few others.

—The first tiebreaker is nervy. Nadal nets an easy forehand he wouldn’t miss against anyone else. Federer makes an ill-advised challenge on a Rafa serve he probably wouldn’t make in any other situation. Nadal ends it with a backhand over the baseline. Shades of the Djokovic matches from last year.

—But Nadal isn’t playing Djokovic. Everything swings in the second game of the second set, when he hits a running crosscourt pass onto the sideline on his way to breaking Federer. It's the start of one of the most determined defensive performances of this defensive great’s career. There's a cussedness to his gets and passing shots tonight. Federer forces him to go outside the sidelines, and then outside the doubles sidelines, but Rafa goes there. On half a dozen occasions, he hits a shot that I would normally say was not possible. "He's not going to . . . He's not going to get . . . He's not going to get that . . . He just got that."

—Nadal’s serve: He’s developed a trump card against Federer. He hits it to his backhand side just enough that virtually every time he goes to the forehand, Federer is fooled and Nadal wins the point. The trick is, Nadal must not increase the number of times he goes to the forehand, or the element of surprise will slowly be lost. Down break point near the end of the all-important second set, he goes to the forehand. It’s an ace.

—Why does Federer miss shots against Nadal that he doesn’t miss against other players? There’s Rafa’s spin, which is different even from other lefties'. There’s the heaviness of those shots as well. And there’s his pressure-creating speed. All that is a factor, but it's not the whole story. There’s Federer's head, too. He presses on his ground strokes against Rafa, especially on his forehand. He presses and hits one long on a break point early in the second. He presses and buries more than one in the net late in the third set. He wasn't missing those shots against del Potro. Federer may not believe he can win long rallies over the course of a match against Nadal, but he's at his best when he's patient enough to work the point, and work Rafa to his backhand side. He goes bigger earlier as the match progresses, and it doesn't work.

—The score is 6-2 in favor of Rafa in the third-set tiebreaker. He takes the balls to serve; he has one more before Federer gets his two serves. The writer next to me and I agree that Rafa looks especially nervous for someone who’s ahead 6-2 in a breaker. He doesn’t want to give Federer his two serves. Nadal plays his tightest point of the match, guiding a feeble backhand pass into the net.

A couple of minutes later, Nadal takes the balls to serve at 6-5. Federer has won his two service points. Just as Rafa had caught up from 2-5 in the first set breaker, Federer is threatening to turn this match on its head. Nadal’s serve is mediocre, but when Federer’s return is equally average, Nadal has had enough. He steps around a forehand, drills it inside out, and takes the set. It’s the decisive shot of the match, and a moment of visibly willed confidence.

—The match reaches a peak of quality in the middle of the fourth set. Nadal is getting better, running wide, using that curling forehand he loves so much down here, and even firing his crosscourt backhand for winners. Federer, looking weary, is getting desperate—he's hanging on and hanging in. But Rafa has a strange weakness that has prolonged many of his matches in the past: Second serve returns when he has a break point. He typically steps back, runs around to hit a forehand, and then nervously leaves it in the middle of the court. Finally, at 4-4, he lofts one past the service line and gets his break.

—5-4, Nadal serving for the match, break point for Federer. He hits a forehand approach that appears to be a winner. I start to scribble the word “break” in my notebook. I look up and Federer is watching something in the air. It’s the ball. Apparently Nadal has retrieved it. It lands on the baseline. Federer, casual, perhaps because he assumed the point was his, slides an overhead wide. You get the feeling that Nadal would have tracked down a ball hit outside of the stadium at that stage.

—The match ends with a Federer forehand over the baseline. Every one of their Grand Slam matches but one—the 2006 French Open final—has ended with a Federer forehand error. All were long, except the Wimbledon 2008 final, which went into the net. I have no explanation for this, except that maybe by the end of a match Nadal has frustrated Federer so much that he overhits.

—Federer waits longer to come to the interview room than he usually does after a tough loss. He’s calmer because of it, too. There’s no talk of “lucky shots” tonight, just respect for Rafa and a determination to look ahead. Oh, and a reality check. Asked how he keeps his “equilibrium on occasions like this,” Federer shoots back, “I haven’t lost in five months or something. It’s not that bad. Don’t feel too sorry for me.”

—Rafa comes in later. The crowds on the grounds are long gone. He says that he wanted to mix in more shots to Federer’s forehand this time, because he had attacked well with his backhand the last two times they played. Nadal ends his English press conference with his left arm over his face, like someone asleep. He sits hunched, staring forward, waiting for the next set of questions in Spanish. He opens his mouth for a serious yawn.

—On first glance at their head-to-head record, I would rate this as the 8th best of the 27 Nadal-Federer matches.

—The seagulls still whirl around Laver Arena at 1:00 A.M. The clean-up crew is out in full force. On the walk toward the hotel, there are only two people in sight. They’re not talking. Finally, as I walk past and am almost out of hearing range, I hear one of them say, quietly, “Awesome match.”