The 2008 Open floated in on a wave of good vibes and youthful energy. The glow of the Olympics—remember those summer nights with Nastia, Michael, and Usain?—could still be felt as the players, fresh from Beijing, took over the courts at Flushing Meadows. By the end of the first week, the added excitement of revolution was in the air as a walking forest of young male players briefly loomed over the men’s tournament.
A week later, it felt much more sober and sensible around the National Tennis Center. Halfway through the tournament, the passion of Beijing had given way to the hard calculation of presidential politics. Evening after evening, the Open bumped up against pomp and circumstance from Denver and a brand-new culture war from St. Paul. The promising youths of Flushing Meadows, including top seeds Ana Ivanovic and Rafael Nadal, were dismissed. Depending on your point of view, the final weekend felt either like a monarchical restoration or The Empire Strikes Back.
Or maybe, since school is in session again, it was just time for the seniors to assert their positions for another year. With that in mind, it’s time to give everyone their grades from the last two weeks of work.
Serena Williams
I watched Serena’s first-round match, against Katernya Bondarenko, in Ashe Stadium. Over the next two weeks, no one would command that vast stage quite so thoroughly and casually. More important, Serena was sharp right from the start, even if she didn’t need to be.
I watched Serena again in Ashe a week later, at night, when she beat her sister. This match, with its savage, full-run, corner-to-corner exchanges, proved that the Williamses continue to set a bar that the other women have yet to reach. When they play like this, there’s no one around today who can match their speed and shot-making, not to mention their bloody-mindedness. This one went to two tiebreakers and was essentially a toss-up, but Serena, just a little more desperate for a win, stole it from under her older sister’s nose.
In the final against Jelena Jankovic, Serena commanded Ashe with her physical power alone. Opponents must feel a certain intimidation factor even when she’s walking with that slow-footed gait between points. As far as her game, Serena hit with more margin and patience than I can remember seeing from her in recent years. The screaming forehands and backhands didn’t need to land near the lines to make their point. Her returns, which she hit with something bordering on disdain, set the tone for Jankovic’s service games, rather than the other way around. Even when she got tired and frustrated and faced four sets points at the end of the second, it only served to show how stubborn Serena can be when she’s on the brink of defeat.
Rather than a sign of things to come or a full-time return to form, every Williams title over the past three or four years has been an event unto itself, maybe to be repeated, but nobody knows exactly when. I don’t believe that their longevity is due to the fact that they have “outside interests” or that they’re more well-rounded than the other players. I also don’t think you can say they’ve done it “the right way,” as if their method should be imitated.
The Williams sisters are unique among tennis players, in their background and ability, and they’ve used that to write their own career narratives without regard to anyone else’s expectations. They skipped the junior circuit as kids. They’ve held themselves aloof from many players and never pretended that they thought any of them are as good as they are. They’ve let their interest in the sport wax and wane. They’ve set their own goals, even if they’ve been slightly inscrutable to the rest of us. And they’ve plowed ahead without letting the subsequent criticism change them in any perceivable way. Serena seemed surprised but not overjoyed about becoming No. 1 again. Instead of reaching for outside validation in a computer ranking, she said she “just tries to do her best.” That’s the kind of old-fashioned goal—both personal and realistic—we tell our kids to set for themselves. Serena showed us that, even in a field as seemingly cutthroat as pro tennis, it can still work. A+
Roger Federer
This was the first question of Federer’s post-victory press conference yesterday:
When you came in to this tournament, for whatever reason you were brimming with confidence. Is that really true?
Federer: No, I mean, I was coming here happy being an Olympic champion. I think that's what really made the big difference. If I wouldn't have played doubles at the Olympics, say, you know, I would have come here with three sort of maybe tough losses, you know.
But with the Olympic gold in doubles, it really sort of made me forget about it, and just sort of come in here and enjoy this tournament.
“Enjoy this tournament”: Those are words we want our athletes to say, but we also know that competition is serious business. Most players put too much on the line to merely “enjoy” a tennis match, and those who do typically don’t become champions.
But Federer has, throughout his career, made competing seem like less of a chore than the last great champion, Pete Sampras, did. Federer likes to win, of course, but he also likes good sportsmanship, likes the other guys on tour, likes to experiment with every type of shot and play every part of the game as well as he can. His variety and flourish make other players’ games look grim—obligatory—by comparison.
There was one thing Federer, like everyone else, didn’t seem to enjoy very much: losing. The few times he lost during his run at the top made him mopey on court and mumbly afterward. Having to fight to win seemed a little alien to his nature. As he said in Australia, winning had become a "monster," the expectations an albatross around his neck. But losing the pressure of No. 1 has liberated him for the moment. Federer reveled in his Olympic gold like it was the first win of his career. When he fell behind to Igor Andreev at the Open, he suddenly found himself enjoying the challenge and facing it down, rather than nursing some vague sense of grievance or disappointment. Yesterday Federer said the Andreev match was the key to his tournament, and it offered the moment I’ll remember most from the 2008 Open: The sight of Federer bending forward to let out a full-body scream and fist-pump, and then standing back up with a bashful, surprised smile on his face. After being told for years he was too passive in defeat, Federer had found his own, slightly self-mocking, way to fire himself up.
