The A List

No matter how dramatic the events of the previous 12 days may have been, it’s the final weekend of a Slam that sticks in the mind and rings in the ears. As time goes on and history is written, the finals end up representing everything that led up to them—in retrospect, they look like destiny. When it comes to this year’s French Open, that’s not such a bad thing. Neither of its finals offered a classic match or marked a milestone quite like Roger Federer’s win last year. But what they offered instead—an inspiring modesty—may stick in my mind much longer.

It’s too early for history, though. Before everything other than the smiles of Francesca Schiavone and Rafael Nadal fades away, let’s rate the performances of the tournament's MVPs.

Francesca Schiavone

One moment can stand in for the entire final, and the way Schiavone went after it. Up 5-2 in the second-set tiebreaker, she was two points from winning what she had to believe, as a 29-year-old who had never cracked the Top 10, would be her only shot at a major. Or at least I thought she had to believe this. I’d been waiting, through the second set and particularly through the tiebreaker that ended it, for her to remember it and tighten up accordingly. But she didn't tighten up. In fact, she’d played some of her loosest and more assertive tennis in the breaker.

At 5-2, I thought now, surely, the weight of the moment would land on Schiavone’s racquet and make it just a little harder to swing so freely. From a tactical perspective, it might even have made sense to play a little safer against an erratic Sam Stosur—there’s no shame in inching across the finish line. But that wasn’t how it was going to be for Schiavone. On the next point, she took an even bigger cut on her backhand return, she ran around and drilled a forehand into the corner, and she finished it with a sweet and difficult shoe-top backhand volley that was angled to perfection. From the start, Schiavone had taken Stosur’s biggest weapon, her serve, and managed to get on top of it and attack it like no one else had all tournament. From the start, she had taken this match; there was no other way for her to end it.

No, actually, there was. Along with that 5-2 point, I’ll remember one line from her classic, classy acceptance speech. “I’ve always watched every final of this tournament and I know what the big champions say. I want to thank everybody.” Even after her win, Schiavone was humble and honest enough to differentiate herself from the “big champions.” In one sense, she was right; she’s not Serena Williams or Steffi Graf or Justine Henin. But she’s also wrong. Schiavone showed that, in the right time and place, there can be a big champion in any of us. She showed, by winning the way she did, that opportunities can be taken. Hers is a win I’m going to want to remember. A+

Rafael Nadal

This was the first time since 2005 that Nadal had had the luxury of playing someone other than Federer in a Slam final. You could see the difference in his approach right from the opening games. Against Federer, we’re used to seeing Nadal be more aggressive, take control of rallies a little earlier than normal, and get them moving in the direction he wants them to go. Against Soderling, he didn’t feel the need to do any of that. Instead, Nadal settled himself behind the baseline and went into lockdown mode. The Sod had to hit one great shot, two great shots, three greats shots, four great shots, maybe even five greats shots to win a point. Most of the time he was tapped out by the third, which, when you think about it, isn’t bad for a guy who plays with such a low-percentage style. Nadal also neutralized Soderling's serves by sending them back high and deep and giving him little to work with. If that type of return isn't as scintillating as, say, Andre Agassi's was, it's still underrated in its effectiveness.

The stars aligned for Nadal at this tournament. No del Potro or Davydenko to be found. No No. 1 player in the world to face in the final. And a chance not only to reclaim his title, but to have the added satisfaction of doing it against the guy who took it from him last year. It must have been just as satisfying for Rafa that, after struggling with his knees and his movement so much in 2009, that it was his running ability that won the title for him this time. As in 2008, Nadal didn’t drop a set. If this wasn’t as crushing a performance as that year’s, it was almost as impressive in how routine it looked. In going undefeated on the surface for the first time, Nadal took his clay-court game to a level that was simply unreachable for anyone else; he was on a different floor of the building. In pool, the best player is the one who never has to hit a risky or show-stopping shot. You could say the same for Nadal in Sunday’s final.

But what looked routine for Nadal during the match was anything but afterward. He sobbed in a way that looked as painful and cathartic as it did celebratory. After this past year, he genuinely wasn’t sure he would get back to this spot, even if the rest of the universe was. I laughed in the post-match interviews when Nadal said that he needed to play his absolute best in the final, because beating Soderling was “almost impossible” otherwise. OK, I can buy this when you’re facing Federer, Rafa. But Robin Soderling, “impossible” for you to beat? On clay? Of course, Nadal is the same guy who, after beating John Isner in three sets in Indian Wells, shook his head and described the towering American, who has never been near the Top 10, as “one of the greatest players in the world." He made it sound like defeating this tennis god on earth was a feat of Herculean proportions. In this sense, Nadal’s motivation moves in the opposite direction of Federer’s. Where Federer, like Pete Sampras before him, believes that he should win if he plays to his potential, Nadal uses his ever-present doubts—“there are always worries” he said with a smile in Indian Wells—to fuel his desire to overcome them.

Nadal did the same thing when he won the 2006 French. He hadn’t been able to play the Australian Open that year, and he’d been worried about career-threatening injuries even then. When he won at Roland Garros, he said that he became emotional when he thought back to how he had felt just a few months before, about how far he’d felt from the sport and how he'd wondered if he’d ever get back in the winner’s circle in Paris. If anything, he was even more emotional this time. Nadal isn’t a champion who plays with ironclad confidence or the swagger of the naturally superior; he doesn't awe us by making it look easy. He's a more democratic champion, a guy who's been down and gotten back up. He plays with doubts, which we all have; more important, though, is that he plays with hope—vehement hope—which is something we can all use. Nadal knows, especially after the last 12 months, that bad times will come, that nothing is accomplished easily or can be taken for granted. Like Schiavone's, Rafa's win is a moment I want to remember, for inspiration. It's proof that, whatever we may think at the time, whatever doubts we have about the future, it might, just might, turn out to be good.A+**

Sam Stosur

Poor Sammy. She beats Serena. She beats Justine. She takes a ballpeen to Jankovic. And then she's ambushed by the seemingly harmless little Schiavone. Like Soderling, Stosur didn't play badly, and she didn't full-on choke; she just didn't seize the opportunity. It's nice to think that the WTA has found another contender. But it was sad to see her on the trophy stand, staring blankly and a little disbelievingly. After winning the matches she wasn't supposed to win, she'd lost the won that everyone thought was hers. One question for the future: Is it possible to try a different pair of shades? How about the ones that the Queen of Spain was sporting? A

John McEnroe

I kind of want to be sick of the guy. My first reaction when I saw that he was doing NBC's women's final was, "Does he have to stick his mouth in everywhere?" But, as usual, he won me over. This time it was his enthusiasm for Schiavone's play that did it. He could see from the start that she had a plan and wasn't afraid of the stage. That enthusiasm was contagious, and made Schiavone's win even more exciting and touching. That's what a good commentator can do. A

The "Nothing is Impossible" Crew

I'm referring to Schiavone's T-shirt-wearing player box, of course—her brother and her friends. We may never see them again, but we won't forget them either. Best group hug I've seen in a while. A

Robin Soderling

Like I said, I thought he played reasonably well through the first set and a half. He hit a lot of good shots, but his game isn't designed to hit that many good shots in a row. Its one-dimensional quality was also exposed by Nadal, who felt like he could basically sit back and wait for the same bombs to be fired over and over. Was Soderling just flat? Or was he awed by the moment, the way he was last year? I expected more, considering that he had already reached this round before. One of Soderling's biggest weapons is his competitive edge and his aggressive body language, but there was little of either on display in the final, and none in his lame final attempt to break in the third set. The Sod tried hard to fire himself up at various points, but you could see it was an uphill battle. And then, all of a sudden, as it usually happens against Nadal, he was down two sets, out of big swings, and out of options. A-

*

I'll be back Wednesday to run down the rest.