Remembering Paris

Even by tennis’s accelerated standards, this is a fast Monday turnaround. As I write, Andy Murray and Tomas Berdych are playing at the 02 Arena in London, on a powder blue court, to open the ATP’s season-ending World Tour Finals. Weren’t we just in Paris, on a green court, watching 30-year-old David Ferrer celebrate his first Masters title and 21-year-old Jerzy Janowicz drop shot his way through a miracle breakthrough week? Those are two good stories, two worth remembering, but they feel like ancient history at the moment.

Bercy was a week worth recording, though, because it was one big exception to the current ATP rules. For the first time in two years, the winner of a Masters was not a member of the Big 4; OK, Ferrer is ranked No. 5, but it still qualifies as a shocker. Also for the first time in two years, since Milos Raonic’s winter breakout in 2011, the men’s tour got a long look at an exciting new talent in Poland’s Janowicz, who is already the most versatile 6-foot-8 player in history. Finally, Michael Llodra gave us his annual glimpse of what the men’s game looked like back in the 20th century, by serving and volleying and chipping and charging his way to the semifinals.

Here’s a look, as the memories of those strange events in Paris begin to fade into the blue of the 02, at what made Bercy a special event this year.

The Crowd

There’s talk of moving this tournament to February, and it makes sense. The schedule currently begins in January, leaves the next month essentially empty, and jams together two big events in consecutive weeks in November. Moving Paris and linking it with the European indoor tournaments in Marseille and Rotterdam in February would fill a void, as well as lightening the workload at the end of the season.

Whenever it’s played, Bercy has a unique vibe, and one that’s noticeably different from its big tennis brother on the other side of town, Roland Garros. The relationship seems to be similar to the one between the U.S. Open and the ATP's Masters when it was held at Madison Square Garden in New York. The crowd at the Garden was louder, less fashionable, more team sports-oriented, and more pro American—Jimmy Connors’ love affair with the city began there rather than at Flushing Meadows. In Bercy, the Parisian crowd still boos, hisses, and whistles their displeasure the way they do at Roland Garros, but there’s also more overt and upbeat support for their own. When a Frenchman has it going, especially the way a veteran like Llodra did last week, the energy in the room seems to lift him.

And at what other tournament are the arena lights replaced by a spotlight the second a match is over? By the time Ferrer had fallen to the court yesterday, the stadium had darkened and he was left alone in the light, like an actor doing a death scene.

Michael Llodra

He was the lowest-ranked player to start the tournament, at No. 86, but Llodra’s run to the semifinals wasn’t a surprise. He did the same thing in 2010, when he held match points to reach the final. And Llodra did it the same way this time, with dynamic forward motion, one of the best backhand volleys you’ll ever see, and, as commentator Robbie Koenig said, “the reflexes of a mongoose on amphetamines.”

After Llodra’s last run here, I wrote that it was proof that with the right coaching, a talented young player could still serve and volley his way to the top, no matter how quick or slow the courts, and no matter how good his opponents’ passing shots. If an over-30 doubles specialist can do it, certainly a young all-world talent can do it, too. It would require a one-handed backhand, and commitment to the style from the start. The point goes double this time around, because Llodra made the semis on a fairly slow court. It isn’t the surface speed that keeps players from rushing the net; it’s the two-handed, Western-grip style of play that they learn when they pick up a racquet.

Either way, as in 2010, it was an exciting throwback week from the Frenchman. He made much of today’s tennis look lead-footed and safe by comparison.

Jerzy Janowicz

Let’s start by not getting ahead of ourselves. This was one week, it was indoors, and Federer and Nadal were out of town.

That said, for tennis fans wondering what the sport’s future is going to look like, Janowicz made it one of the most exciting weeks of the season by beating Kohlschreiber, Cilic, Murray, Tipsarevic, and Simon on consecutive days, and raising his ranking from 69 to 26. There’s a lot to like about the kid. He has monster flat and kick serves, and he isn’t afraid to go after a second ball. He moves and hits fluidly, especially compared to his fellow giant John Isner—it seems impossible, thinking of the way they hit the ball and get around the court, that the American is only an inch taller.

Janowicz, who grew up idolizing Pete Sampras, has a flatter, more penetrating forehand than most young players. He can rifle his two-handed backhand in either direction. He plays farther up in the court than his fellow young-uns Raonic and Ryan Harrison. And, as we know very well now, he has a drop shot. An excellent drop shot. The fact that he hits it far too often is nothing to worry about just yet; Andy Murray did the same thing early in his career. Think of it as a charming youthful indiscretion, the sign of a creative mind yet to be reeled in by the work-a-day reality of winning top-level tennis matches. Hopefully, he'll learn that his standard forehand drive is a more reliable point-ender.

Best of all for Janowicz’s future is that, as raw as his game may be, he shows poise when it matters. He takes his time, keeps his head in the moment, and doesn’t give away important points. He also has his own style already. There’s the towel that he brushes his hair with after each point. There’s the long stare he shares with his coach on changeovers. There’s the Safin-as-medieval-monk look to his sharp features. There’s the single tuft of hair at the top of his head that sticks up and somehow stays dry. And there are the tears of joy after each win. We’ll see what kind of player we’ve got when Jerzy gets out in the heat and wind in Melbourne and Indian Wells next year. But for now we know one thing: There will be more tears in tennis's future.

David Ferrer

It’s a shame that Daveed has to go straight to London after his first Masters title, rather taking a moment to celebrate this long-delayed and long-deserved triumph. But no one knows better than he does that tennis is a grind. He played intelligent, consistent, un-panicky tennis to defuse two hot players, Llodra and Janowicz, in the semis and final. And when his moment finally came, Ferrer took it with class. He hugged his coach, hugged his girlfriend, and did the same to his opponent at the net. But I thought the most representative picture of him, and his always-dogged style, came after he won the first set over Janowicz. Ferrer took his towel from the ball boy, and, as he walked to the sideline, put it between his teeth.