!Timf by Pete Bodo
Yesterday, Roger Federer lost a match he should have won. He was up a set and a break, serving at 4-3, against Richard Gasquet, who's not exactly known as one of the mental giants of the contemporary game. Federer ended up losing in three; the final two sets were tiebreakers.
Last week in Madrid, Federer won a match he should have lost. He trailed Feliciano Lopez, who's not exactly known as one of the mental giants etc., etc., by 2-5 in the third set tiebreaker only to watch—in disbelief—as Lopez made a hash of an easy smash that would have brought him to quadruple match point.
It's kind of complicated being Roger Federer these days, right?
Federer himself is vacillating between issuing no-news declarations confirming his belief that he can still return to the top of the rankings (and in all fairness to Federer, it's not like he's planting the questions or leading the press-room conversation in that direction) and explaining that whatever else may or may not be happening, he's pretty much done the heavy lifting of his career. He's not obsessing over major titles or ranking points as much as trying to take as much pride, pleasure and fun out of his life and craft as he can.
As little as a 18 months ago, that last claim might have been a little hard to buy, given how Federer was still in the habit of breaking out the whupping stick with chilling regularity against all but the very top players, and most especially his nemesis, Rafael Nadal.
Sheesh, what fun can that be? some of us wondered. The way Federer is playing now makes that question irrelevant.
Wheeee! Watch me lose, 7-6 in the third, to Reeshard! **
Whoop-eee, climb aboard the Roger Roller Coaster—the Roger Coaster?—and watch me play three tiebreakers in my first round against a guy who trails in our head-to-head 346-0!
Holy Cannnoli! Did you see how I went out there in Miami against Rafa, looked him in the eye and said, Hahahahahah! I'm not even going to put the hard work in today. Joke's on you, Rafa!
But lest anyone get the wrong impression, a few days ago Federer also reminded us that while the big news this year is Djokovic's streak—and the Serb as well as Nadal are clearly playing better than he is—Federer still feels very much a contender at the high stakes table. "It's still important for me to get back to being No. 1. I mentioned after Wimbledon (last year) it was a goal of mine. It's still very real and possible. I think I can do it if I win one of those Grand Slams."
The curious thing about Federer's present situation is how unpredictable his matches are, and that's almost always the sign of a champion who's losing either his appetite or that visceral determination to win, rather than lose. It's a tricky issue, because when it comes to competitive burn-out, the player is always the last to know, and the reality of his situation is shocking. The losses aren't that painful to absorb as they're happening; the matches just seem to. . . get away from you. But once you're done, you can't help but ask yourself: "Did I really lose to George Bastl? " Or, "Did I really lose to Richard Gasquet?"
I mention Bastl, who's long retired, because he's the guy who laid the most shocking of losses on Federer's pal, Pete Sampras, whose former coach (Paul Annacone) is now suffering through the trials and tribulations of his most recent charge, Federer. Although losing that second-round Wimbledon match (6-4 in the fifth) to qualifier and ATP No. 145 Bastl was undoubtedly the low point of Sampras' late-career fade (after which it seemed that every press conference began with the question, "When are you going to retire, Pete?"), it was less representative than some other losses which might be of greater interest to Federer, partly because, in his two most recent loss, he's played five tiebreakers in six sets. So let's review:
Before Sampras, who had just turned 31, issued the final big statement of his career, an unexpected win at the U.S. Open (it was his 14th and final major title; he never swung the racket in an ATP event again), he lost three consecutive matches that went the distance, two of them in third-set tiebreakers. He lost a third-round match to Tommy Haas in the Canada Masters, 6-7 (3), 6-3, 6-7 (5). Next he fell one round earlier in Cincinnati to Wayne Arthurs; the scores were 6-4, 3-6, 6-7 (4). And in his last event before the U.S. Open, Sampras was humiliated on Long Island by Paul Henri Mathieu, 6-3, 6-7 (7), 4-6.
The downward spiral beginning with the Bastl match was breathtaking, seemingly inevitable, and, in its own way, orderly. But the symmetry of it all—that slow flickering and seeming extinction of the champion's flame—was ruined when Sampras up and won the U.S. Open. Clearly, there was no physical impediment to Sampras playing the best tennis of his life, or at any rate, tennis good enough to beat anyone, or any sequence of anyones, during any given fortnight.
Federer is just about a year younger than Sampras was at the time he quit. He's still playing much better (relative to his own standard as well as his ranking; Sampras was ranked No. 17 when he won that final U.S. Open), plus he seems to enjoy the game—and the way of life he's created for himself in it. That can change, of course. Sampras himself didn't mind the struggle nearly as much as he minded the constant harassment and speculation about his retirement from the media once he began to fade.
But by and large, that signature Federer ease, which shows up in all aspects of his game and life, ought to buy him plenty more time if—and this is a big "if"—he can keep from the kind of ranking freefall that Sampras experienced in his last year on the tour. There's no real sign of a swoon yet, and Federer could really help his cause by having a good if not great French Open and Wimbledon. The danger is that he won't; that he'll be tagged by a Baghdatis, Ferrero, Fish, or Dolgolopov in the second or third round.
We can debate whether or not Federer has lost a step (in my opinion, that first step is lost in the mind, not in the shoe), and whether he still has the requisite focus and appetite. The one thing we know for sure is that he still has the game; it's not like he's spilling his guts and blood and losing 6-4, 6-3 to Olivier Rochus or Potitio Starace.
One big factor in Federer's troubles these days is that each loss emboldens more and more players to take their best shot, and they just plain play better because that splinter of doubt and resignation that they still feel when the meet Nadal, or Djokovic, isn't there anymore. It sounds oxymoronic, but beating Federer these day isn't nearly as good—nor as easy—a win as it may look.
It seems like it wasn't all that long ago that we had interminable debates here about whether Federer needed a coach; now the more appropriate questions might be, "Does he need a sports psychologist?"
My answer to that would be, no, he's already got a good one in Annacone. He went through this once before. Sampras released him not long before he hit the skids and then, swallowing a giant wedge of humble pie, the struggling champ called Annacone back to help in the push that earned him that final major title.
So far, Federer has shown no sign of panic, but the pressure is ratcheting up, the whispers are growing louder. He's also learning that not everything is in his hands. The reality in tennis is that you don't really leave the game when you so choose any more than you enter a particular echelon when you choose; you arrive or leave when your scores, not your desires, demand that you do.
If anything, the results of the past few weeks—and the way those results were created, even more than their verdict—suggest that Federer may be entering that era when his greatest battles will be internal, and have to do with deeper issues than his projected retirement date, or that comfortable and familiar quest for the No. 1 ranking, or a place in the Wimbledon final. We're likely to learn more about Federer's character as a competitor in the year or 18 months ahead than we have gleaned so far.
Hang on tight, the ride on the Roger Coaster is about to begin.