Phprcick2pm

Since I started writing a weblog, I haven't spent nearly as much time as in the past in the curious zoo called the player lounge, with its colorful assortment of characters, ranging from scores of former stars to the most irritating - and sometimes bizarre - assortment of behind-the-scenes operatives, hangers on entitled scenemakers, and Ion Tiriac. It's a little easier to get that kind of valuable down time a little later in the tournament, so yesterday I wandered down into the lounge.

Within minutes, I bumped into Tiriac, and then old friend and former champion (1978) here, Virginia Ruzici. Not long thereafter, the woman she beat in that final, Mima Jausovec, showed up. They're friends; Mima (who won at Roland Garros the previous year), is staying at Virgi's flat this week, just reliving old times. Pat Cash walked by, waving "hi." Then I encountered Andres Gomez, champion here in 1990, and you might find some of what he told me about the men's final interesting.

I'll paraphrase, because I didn't jot notes. Basically, Gomez thinks Roger's best chance to beat Rafa is on a damp court on a cool day - which goes against the conventional wisdom that a dry, hot day -  a day when the court plays "fast" - offers Federer his best chance. Andres's reasoning was refined. He thinks that on a fast clay court, Nadal's forehand simply has too much power and action for The Mighty Fed to handle on the backhand side. It leaps high, and arrives so "heavy" that Roger has a hard time getting his racket around to drive it with sufficient pace and accuracy.

A slower court, however, reduces both the bounce and pace. Theoretically, it gives Federer a greater chance to draw a bead on the ball, as well as to employ his slice approach shot and drop shot. The idea, which often goes unremarked, is that Nadal has plenty of power to compliment his extraordinary retrieving and angular shotmaking. Anything that takes Nadal's power away gives TMF more chances - and opportunity to use his versatility.

While this analysis came from Gomez, bear in mind that he's good friends with Federer's new coach, Jose Higueras. In fact, the two of them have appeared on camera here, watching a Nadal match (among others). So I think it's pretty safe to assume that even if this analysis is all Gomez, Higueras certainly has heard it. And remember, as a former Roland Garros champ (which Higueras was not), Gomez has what you might call street cred. The weather, incidentally, is supposed to be cool with scattered clouds. If the showers forecast for tomorrow materialize, we might get a chance to see how much of Gomez's analysis shows up in TMF's game.

What I really like about this entire scenario is that here you have two of the great clay-court players of their era, one from Spain and one from Equador, working with a Swiss kid who's best on grass and hard courts - despite the fact that Nadal is Spanish. It's funny, but Higueras won't even discuss Nadal with the Spanish press in his official capacity as TMF's coach. Is there a more emblematic comment on the transnational nature of tennis?

I think one other factor may come into play here. I noticed during TMF's match with Fernando Gonzalez that he seemed to take particular pleasure in ripping his flat or topspin backhand down the line. This shot, while conceivably the toughest ask in the groundstroking repertoire, is also the most dangerous. And given that Nadal is a lefty, who really enjoys pinning Federer in his backhand corner, the shot could be of particular value to Federer.

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Fed

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We don't often think of opening up your backhand side to an opponent as a good thing, but if Federer gets pushed far over to that side, it actually takes away his backhand down-the-line (everything he hits from that position would essentially be a cross court shot, right?). So it seems that if TMF wants to avoid being handcuffed and neutralized, he needs to keep the action closer to the center of the court. That luring Nadal into making you hit the toughest groundstroke in the game can be considered an effective strategy sounds nuts. But you know the reality - it isn't about what you want to do or hope do do or wish you could do - it's about what you can do. And if anybody has the skills to pull off a stunt like this, it's Federer.

I'm sorry I haven't been able to come up with a post on Gael Monfils, Rafa, or Novak Djokovic so far this week. I watched today's matches with one eye, while preparing the women's final preview. Djokovic is out of here, Rafa probably will figure in a finals post (hahahah), and my strongest feeling about Gael Force is he made great strides this week but he needs to back it up.  He has one significant shortcoming, strategically, which is an indifference or reluctance to transition from defense to offense.

You saw what he did to David Ferrer. Monfils used his superior athleticism and great defense to swamp Ferrer and his lesser athleticism and great defense. But there were many times in that match when I felt Monfils could have saved himself some time and energy by using his superb defense to create offense - hail, sometimes just to run up to the net or something after putting Ferrer on the end of a very long string.

I can't blame him for not doing that, because he didn't have to.  Ferrer couldn't really hurt him with anything. But many other quality players can, and if Monfils wants to climb the rankings, he'll need to bring a little more offense into his game. He doesn't have to serve and volley, he doesn't even have to start with an offensive mindset - he would just be better off if he were looking to make the transition from his superb defense to offense when the opportunity arises. A wingspan is a terrible thing to waste.

Monfils is a powerful counter-argument to one of the most powerful but conditional of the received truths in tennis, which is that being raised on clay and having a clay-court game for your base is the ticket to success. Let's leave wear and tear out of the discussion here. I think it may have hurt Monfils to become so like a textbook clay-court expert, for the exact opposite reason that it helps Ferrer to be one. When you're blessed with the kind of power and athleticism that Monfils has, variety becomes an asset and - more important - a quality that enhances makes power even more deadly.

After the second semifinal today, El Jon and I were down in the press lounge. There, the short stairs that lead up from the underground locker room open onto a spacious open area that separates the bar and restaurant. The hall was fairly crowded, as it always is, mostly with friends and fans of Monfils. Suddenly, people started clapping, and Monfils emerged and took the stairs. He's an appealing kid, and unlike most players, he looks smaller in person than on television. Surprisingly, he looked almost frail.

Monfils was dressed in tribute-to-Rafa, clamdigger-gray sweats, a No. 29 (Marshall Faulk) Rams football jersey, and black high-top Nikes, with the Swoosh logos filled with very conspicuous sparkle glitter. His fans began to slow-clap, and then he did something I'd never really seen before. He started to work his way around the perimeter of the room, air-kissing and exchanging intimate words with one person after another. Most of these were man-kisses (although La Mere Monfils got an extra heartfelt one), and - most astonishing -  not a one of them was hurried or perfunctory. If anything, Monfils was working the room in extra-slow time, and it took a good ten minutes for him to acknowledge everyone. Then he went off and did press for one last time this week.