The just-concluded Australian Open offered some of the best tennis over two weeks that I can remember, with the emergence of a new star, the re-emergence of an “older” one, and perhaps the end of one era and the beginning of another. If you watched the year’s first Slam unfold—kudos, by the way, to ESPN2 for sticking with so many live matches until their conclusions—you saw, among other things, a kid from France come out of nowhere to level the playing field; the game’s resident glamour queen find her serve, and her confidence; and the coronation of a Grand Slam champion not named Roger or Rafa.
Now, as the tours hit that strange lull without a major in site for about 4 months, we’re left to ponder where these developments Down Under leave us? Here are four questions that come to mind.
What does Novak Djokovic’s upset victory over Roger Federer mean for Federer’s hold on men’s tennis?
First things first: It’s definitely premature to say that Fed’s days of dominance are over in the majors. After all, coming into Melbourne he had won or reached the final of his last 10 majors. His last two Grand Slam losses occurred in 2005, when Rafael Nadal beat him in the French Open semifinals and Marat Safin sent him packing in the Australian Open semifinals. Those losses didn’t derail Federer that year as he went on to capture Wimbledon and the U.S. Open. This most recent defeat Down Under could be a mere blip on the radar, too. As Djokovic said after winning the title this year, “It’s not possible that only one tournament is changing history.”
All thoughts of Melbourne will be erased if Federer wins the French Open in June, completing the career Grand Slam and becoming (in my mind) the best player of all time. It’s not a long shot; he’s been in the last two French finals. And Federer, unlike the man he’s chasing in the history books, Pete Sampras, is actually an excellent clay-court player—second best in the world, if you want to put a fine point on it, right behind Nadal.
But Federer’s loss to Djokovic has a different feel to it than his loss to Safin three years ago. First, the obvious: Federer’s older now, approaching (can you believe it?) the end game of his career. His ability to stay fit and remain motivated will become more difficult by the day. For Federer, this is crunch time—that part of the exam where he’ll have to find the extra gear to hold off a host of young challengers who no longer see a match against him as an exercise in futility. And as any champion will tell you, once the patina of invincibility is gone, winning gets a whole lot tougher.
Federer must also feel the noose of history tightening around his neck. We’ve all marveled at how quickly, and seemingly easily, he racked up his 12 major titles. Winning the next three to break the all-time record will be trickier. Trying to pass Pete will be a heavy burden that may make Federer prone to being a bit testy on the court (exhibit A: his match against Janko Tipsarevic) and liable to making feeble explanations for his loses (exhibit B: Federer bringing up his stomach virus, which happened before the tournament started, after losing to Djokovic).
Hard to make any predictions, of course, but the field is narrowing between the pack and Federer like never before. Whether this is a result of the competition improving, or perhaps understandable, if temporary, insouciance on Federer’s part, the world’s No. 1 may have to expend more mental and physical energy to win his next three majors than he did for his first 12.
Is Jo-Wilfried Tsonga the real deal?
Yes, for one key reason: The charismatic big guy didn’t back down in the final. Unlike, say, Ana Ivanovic, who in her second Grand Slam final appearance still looked dodgy in the tight spots, Tsonga went down swinging. And what was that? Did my eyes deceive me? A volley? Tsonga demonstrated a fearlessness for attacking the net and hitting touch volleys that dropped like rotten peaches, shots I haven’t seen since the days of John McEnroe. Some may also draw comparisons between Tsonga and Marcos Bagdatis, who performed a similar where’d-he-come-from act at the 2006 Australian Open, but Tsonga—who made players like Andy Murray, David Nalbandian, and Rafael Nadal look extraordinarily average—clearly has more weapons in his arsenal. Big shots and the confidence to match: it’s something that doesn’t come around too often.
Tsonga’s derringdo tennis reminds me of another kid who crashed the scene, Boris Becker. He first showed promise at Wimbledon in 1984, before being carted off with an injury. He vowed to return, and a year later he was champion. While no one can profess to have felt the same way toward “Ali” last year, when he tested Andy Roddick in the first round, you could tell he was more than a run-of-the-mill journeyman. At the Australian Open this year, Tsonga proved that.
He’ll have to manage bigger expectations for the rest of the season, but with very few points to defend there’s still relatively little pressure on him. Well, perhaps until the Frenchman gets to Roland Garros and experiences the kind of expectations that have crippled all of his compatriots.
Will Ana Ivanovic become the game’s next bridesmaid?
Watching Ivanovic battle Maria Sharapova, both of whom are 20 years old, in the final, I was reminded of the saying, It’s not the years, it’s the mileage. When Ivanovic had a chance to take control of the first set, she faltered. While she demonstrated positive body language at times, pumping her fists, Ivanovic ultimately came unglued at just the wrong times. She’s won five singles titles, so she knows how to close out a tournament, but the pressure at a Grand Slam tournament can transmogrify even the prettiest games. The good news for Ivanovic is that it was only her second major final, and she wasn’t awed by the circumstances as she was at the French last year, when she was clearly just happy to be there. In the end, Ivanovic’s showing against an in-form, dominant Sharapova was a step forward for her.
Can Andy Roddick rebound?
I must admit that it’s getting quite comical in the way Andy Roddick tends to bring out the best in his journeymen opponents. If you didn’t know any better you’d swear that his third-round Australian Open opponent, Philipp Kohlschreiber, who had a losing record last season and who has won just one title in his career, was the second coming of Federer.
Granted, the match was well played from both sides, but it also exposed all of Roddick’s problems of late. In that match, Roddick appeared to have little confidence in his ground game—justifiably so, as Kohlschreiber was hitting with more pace and angle and penetration. Andy’s no longer the big forehand on the block. So he must resort to charging the net, a gambit that usually backfires on him. Many people will point to his paucity of technique at the net, which is a fair comment, but it’s how he’s getting to the net that’s his real problem. Roddick’s approach shots are hit with too much topspin and not enough penetration. Instead of putting his opponents on the defensive, these shots dip into the court and give guys like Kohlschreiber an extra moment to set up and rip a pass. Roddick also lacks the instincts and footwork of a net-rusher. He basically stands in the middle of the court, racquet in hand, with the hope that the ball will be hit back to him, as opposed to continuing to move forward to cover the percentage pass. He’s the tennis equivalent of a sitting duck up there.
With the upcoming clay-court season a wash for Roddick (and the rest of the Americans), he’ll have to once again pin his hopes toward the faster courts of Wimbledon, where, as chance would have it last year, Richard Gasquet played the match of his life against him.