Tennis is a game of personality, we’ve been told. But you have to look hard for it. A good player in the middle of a match won’t show you much; he can't afford to. I can remember being 13 years old and watching an important 16-and-under sectional junior tournament. I couldn’t believe how self-controlled and self-contained the players were, even after they lost points. It was a giant leap in maturity and focus from my 14-and-under opponents. I felt like I had discovered what serious tennis looked like. And that seriousness of purpose made it all the more entertaining.
Nevertheless, there are noticeable fluctuations in the pros’ personalities over the course of a season. Each big pro tournament has a slightly different effect on their demeanors. Melbourne brings hope, Roland Garros puts the weight of work on their shoulders, Wimbledon is a happy historical playground, the U.S. Open frazzles. What, you might ask, does the final Masters of the year, the glitzy-looking BNP Paribas in Bercy, do to our heroes?
At first glance, it seemed to bring out the grim professional in all of them this time around. Paris is a significant tournament, but it’s also deep into the late-year grind—all part of the job, in other words. The Big 3, rightfully, are more spent and less motivated than anyone. Nadal retired against Davydenko, Federer pulled out with a bad back, and Djokovic was upset by Tsonga, who is nothing if not rested after a long stretch on the sidelines. No grim professional, the Frenchman is enjoying himself like it's January all over again.
Is this a bad thing? The silver lining is that we get to see styles and games that have been buried for months. There’s the return of Tsongamania, a throwback version of Andy Roddick, and, of course, David Nalbandian, who must love the controlled conditions of indoor tennis because he can't find anything to bug him. When he’s rolling like this, he’s as entertaining and effortless a tennis technician as you’ll see. He makes the sport look beautifully simple—move your opponent off the court with extreme angles, push forward and block the volley into the open court, shorten your stroke and hit clean winners on your passing shots, toss the ball up easily and hit a safe but unreturnable serve, and never be anything less than perfectly balanced when you make contact. Doesn't that sound like a snap? I can almost forgive him all the head-scratching months that have come before. But not quite. I’ve learned my lesson with Nails.
Besides Nalbandian’s customary rise from the ashes, there have been strong emotions, and revealing moments of play, that have bubbled up as the week has gone on. Here are a few of the more notable.
Josselin Ouanna
This 22-year-old Frenchman’s style reminded me of James Blake’s, and you can see that there’s a dynamic game somewhere in there. But the No. 152-ranked wildcard seemed cowed by the moment, even though his came against Robin Soderling. Outwardly placid, Ouanna played a passive, defensive game, one aimed at safe, respectable defeat. It almost looked like he thought trying to win would have been rude. That sounds ridiculous, but in certain matches against players who were obviously much better than I was, I’ve felt the same way. It’s just that there’s no need to feel that way against Robin Soderling.
Gael Monfils
This tournament was a microcosm of his U.S. Open. He started with a seemingly newfound grit, coming back from an early deficit to beat Juan Monaco in his opener. Then, confronted with an aggressive opponent—then it was Mardy Fish, this time it was Rafael Nadal—he went away completely. Nadal’s tunnel vision and relentless forehands made Monfils’ soft, showy, high-degree-of-difficulty style look unserious.
Rafael Nadal
I thought I heard Nadal say he was rested before this tournament, but it’s clear that the season has taken its toll. Still, it’s too bad he couldn’t continue today, because he looked very strong against Monfils. He was hitting forehands at all costs, which is when he plays his best tennis, and he was hitting them with flatter authority. Keeping the points shorter seemed to work, and it may be a key to keeping him from wearing down late in the season in the future.
Andy Roddick
After watching Roddick bully Gilles Simon off the court with a style reminiscent of his 2003 self, I would give him one piece of advice: Keep doing that. Don’t bother with the transition game. Instead, adopt a Nadal-like approach when attacking. This means look to set up your inside-out forehand and gun it. If you have the guy totally out of position, then come in. If not, stay back. Roddick has been told for years he needs to move to the net more, but his traditional approach shots, from both sides, inevitably land short—his backhand slice sits up and his forehand topspin does the same—and make him a sitting duck at the net.
Juan Martin del Potro
You have to like the desire of a guy who says, “I wake up every morning thinking about Shanghai.” Playing his countryman and Davis Cup teammate, David Nalbandian, for a third week in a row must have been unusually difficult, especially when that player is beginning to get on a major roll. Del Potro spent the second set in a frustrated stupor, tanking the final game and barreling off the court as quickly as possible—he raised his hand to the crowd without breaking stride. Nalbandian even gave a little look of concern for his fellow Argentine when they shook hands. A tough moment for both guys.
Jo-Wilfried Tsonga
Like Monfils, Tsonga specializes in making life difficult for himself. He’s taken nine sets to win three matches in Paris. But where Monfils likes to scramble and slide and soft ball his opponent—deep down, does he want to be Fabrice Santoro?—Tsonga labors through his strokes and his service games. He has a lot of athletic flair, but somehow it also looks like a lot of work, starting with his serve. If everything must be acrobatic to win, you’re going to suffer your share of injuries. Still, he’s shown glimpses this week of the inspired high-wire game we saw in Melbourne way back in January (was that really this season?; if nothing else, tennis does make you aware of just long a single year is). Good to see him back flying high, punching the air, and pointing at himself after he wins.
Gilles Simon
The calves and the eyes. The former are thin—virtually Gimelstobbian—and the latter is where his determination is concentrated. The rest of his game, by contrast, is smooth to the point of nonchalance.
Novak Djokovic
I find myself chuckling a little when I watch him these days. Is he just going through the motions? Has he forgotten how to win? Why does he smile and hug the guys who have just beaten him? I'm not sure what he's doing out there right now. One thing is clear: For the moment he’s lost whatever edge he needed to fly up the rankings last year. It’s tough to win during all parts of the season, and maybe he gave out too much emotionally through the first half, only to see himself stopped in his tracks by Nadal.
My pick? Who else but the better-late-than-never David Nalbandian?