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“You know, we’ve been talking about schedule length for a long time with not a lot of success,” Andy Roddick said at the U.S. Open in September. “There’s been, OK, new schedule, new schedule, and we’re all supposed to celebrate, but it all ends kind of at the same time, and we have to travel to another part of the world and back.”

Roddick’s words came back to me last week while the men were in Shanghai playing their 11th straight month of competitive tennis. They came back to me as I read Rafael Nadal’s statement about how a knee injury would keep him out of both the tour’s richest event and the even-more-meaningful Davis Cup final the following week. They came back to me again while I was watching the end of the otherwise-outstanding round-robin match between Andy Murray and Roger Federer. The game’s biggest star, pasty and frowning, spent much of his time face down on the court getting treated for a back injury. He looked as if he would have rather been just about anywhere other than in another dogfight with Murray.

What does it say about a sport when its two most important names, the two names and bodies that have been asked to resurrect tennis with their rivalry, are physically broken by the end of a single season? Like Roddick says, the punishing nature of the schedule, its length, and its travel requirements are eternal topics of discussion. But its excessiveness has never been displayed as plainly as it was in Shanghai. Federer is participating in a doubles exhibition this coming week, but for the most part he and Nadal limited themselves to the ATP’s lineup of mandatory tournaments in 2008. That includes the final two post-U.S. Open Masters events, in Madrid and Paris. Fairly or not, these remain the culprits in this story: Nadal and Federer injured themselves while trying to stay in shape to play them. Not to win them—I doubt they cared much about that—just to play them. Some relief may come to the schedule in 2009, but Roddick, who reiterated his thoughts about it last week, remains correct: The season will still end in November, and it will still include two mandatory post-Open Masters events (this time in Paris and China), as well as the Masters Cup. And it will, in all likelihood, continue to hurt the sport’s most valuable property, Rafael Nadal vs. Roger Federer.

While the Top 2 were staggering to the finish line, it was left to the other members of the Big Four, Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray, to pick up the slack in Shanghai and consolidate their positions going into 2009. Each of them did this in style, collectively giving us the best tennis of the week. Murray, undefeated in the round robin and brimming—yes, even Murray can brim—with more confidence each day, seemed destined to win the whole thing until he came out flat and tired against Davydenko in their semifinal. Djokovic’s success, on the other hand, had been a bit of a surprise. He had seemed mildly motivated at best this fall, but he found his old edge last week. Djokovic mentioned more than once that he had wanted to put last year’s Masters Cup, where he lost all six sets he played, out of people’s minds. That was enough to get him through his round-robin group, past an inspired Gilles Simon in the semis, and out to a commanding set-and-a-break lead over Nikolay Davydenko in the final on Sunday.

As he had in his angry win over Roddick at the U.S. Open, Djokovic reminded fans yesterday of why he'd been called the future of tennis as 2008 began. He was hitting with absurd depth on his backhand. He was using his drop shot not as a do-or-die point-ender, but as a sane, mid-point change of pace. He was drilling his on-the-run forehand like Pete Sampras in his prime. He was showing off his daredevil flexibility on defense. He was taking everything as early as possible, changing the direction of the ball whenever he could, and keeping it far from the center of the court. I’ve rarely seen anyone play a less predictable, or more watchable, two sets of baseline tennis. When Djokovic got his feet under him and had time to set up—which was most of the time—there was a sense that he could do anything he wanted with the ball from any position on the court. For the first time since June, Djokovic looked like a streamlined Federer for the future.

Perhaps most encouraging, though, was Djokovic’s mind-set. For months he had floundered through important matches, lacking the controlled edginess that has always produced his best tennis. Rather than mastering his frustration—which, more than with Federer or Nadal, is an integral part of his competitive makeup—he seemed helpless to combat his anger and ready to throw in the towel at the first sign that it might not be his day. For a set and a half, Davydenko failed to plant a seed of frustration in Djokovic's head. The Serb shook off his few misses, kept firing into the corners, and added more topspin for safety on crucial points in the second set. If anything, his edge was a positive one: After winning a point at 3-2 in the second, Djokovic leaped and punched the air in an apparent apparent tribute to his fallen comrade Nadal.

It was all a little too good to be true. Serving at 4-2, 40-0, Djokovic rifled a backhand into the middle of the net. After all the blatant winners from his racquet, this routine botch was startling, and it caused Djokovic to overreact. He berated himself and, despite the fact that he had two more game points in his back pocket, seemed unable to let it go. You might say this was the mark of a perfectionist, but this wasn't the time or the place for perfectionism. This was the time and place to hold serve and walk away with the fifth biggest tournament of the year.

It appeared to be a moot point when Djokovic went up 15-40 on Davydenko’s serve at 5-2. At 15-30, he had played one of the bravest and best points of the match, finishing it with a shotgun blast of a forehand for a winner. As it thumped against the back curtain, Djokovic let out an extended scream of relief, as if he had conquered his nerves for good and guaranteed himself the title. It was an understandable reaction, but it was a mistake. Davydenko fired an ace, out-rallied Djokovic to save the second match point, and eventually held. The Serb had vented his happiness one point too soon. It wouldn't be easy to go back out there and start from scratch to get one more hold.

It wasn't easy. In fact, it was impossible. Djokovic can only control his anxiety and surf over his frustration for so long. He made two nervous errors right away and went down 0-40, before coming back to 30-40. If there was ever a time for calm and purposeful play, this was it. Instead, after faulting on his first serve, Djokovic took a moment to mockingly imitate the spectators, some of whom had cheered his miss. Naturally, he double-faulted. The score was 5-5.

Fortunately for Djokovic, he was playing the ever placid and routine-oriented Davydenko, who refrained from getting fired up even after this reprieve. This gave Djokovic the emotional space to calm down and go back to business without having to think about what his opponent was doing. Lesson to anyone who plays tennis: Even if you’re behind, show some fire when you see that your opponent’s nerves are getting to him; it will confirm in his mind that blowing the match is a possibility, which will increase his anxiety even more. Davydenko predictably kept his head down and failed to change the dynamics of this match. Djokovic settled back in, broke serve, and held routinely for the title.

In the end, the long season hurt some and helped others. The top two players, Nadal and Federer, had by definition left it all on the court from March until September, at the French Open, Wimbledon, the U.S. Open, and all of their attendant warm-up events—that’s how they got to the top in the first place. Djokovic, meanwhile, waxed and waned over that time, seemingly disappointed at not having fulfilled his self-proclaimed destiny of becoming No. 1. In Shanghai he still had some energy in the tank and something to prove. You could sense that Djokovic saw 2009 and a fresh campaign on the horizon, and that his ambition was sparked by that.

The men’s tour will be jammed with quality at the top as '09 begins. Each of the Big Four can look back on a successful season, and each should be a force to be reckoned with in Australia. From a more personal standpoint, Djokovic has positioned himself as an intriguing figure once again. In Shanghai he unearthed his most scintillating game, but he remained an emotional work in progress. Most important was that he reclaimed the upward career trajectory that he had lost in the second half of ’08. I wouldn’t want to see a game and a personality as watchable as Djokovic's moving in any other direction.