It was a given that the story of the day would be the roof. Thunderstorms were in the forecast, and in the morning the All England Club slid its celebrated multimillion-dollar steel contraption across Centre Court. It may have been wishful thinking on their part. By the time a few of us walked over to check it out, the roof had been removed again. But the clouds continued to threaten, so I headed into the big stadium anyway. I'd never wished for a storm to hit at Wimbledon before.
That wasn't the only reason to hang around Centre Court today. Rain or shine, this was going to be my last chance to see Roger Federer play at this year’s Wimbledon. He hadn’t dropped a set in his first two matches, which had registered only in my peripheral vision on various TVs as I hustled from the courts to the interview room to my desk. Talking to a reporter in front of a flat-screen at the reception desk, I’d caught a glimpse of Federer flicking a backhand around the net for a winner. He seemed to have things under control, an observation that was confirmed when I ran into Federer’s agent, Tony Godsick, in Starbucks the other morning. Godsick said his man was “feeling good, no more pressure.” But then he would say that.
The sky stayed gray for much of the first two sets, something that always robs this arena of its highest level of intensity, no matter who's playing. There’s something a little ominous about Centre Court under clouds; grass needs sunlight, after all, and the vast green playing surface glows under it. Still, there was a new version of Federer to see. As 15-year-old Laura Robson, of all people, said in her Monday presser with a bewildered shrug of awe, the guy elevated himself still higher on the game's historical totem pole at the French Open.
Watching the first few games today made me wonder how, from his seat in the stands, Godsick could tell that Federer was more relaxed. His mannerisms—the ball-bounce between the legs; the racquet spin as he gets set to receive serve; the tap-without-looking of an unwanted ball to the ball kid before serving—have always been those of the nonchalant athlete.
In fact, I’d say Federer looked a little edgier than normal, especially for a match he was winning so routinely through the first two sets. That shouldn’t be surprising; agitation is a prerequisite for serious competition. The linesmen provided plenty of it for Federer today. After his second successful challenge, he stared at chair umpire Lars Graff and threw his hands up—“who are these people,” he seemed to be asking. He may have had reason to ask; Federer won his first three challenges. That may have made him cocky, or paranoid, or both, because he then challenged unsuccessfully four times and played most of the third-set tiebreaker without any left.
Centre Court has long been Federer’s house. He loves it here and is loved back. But this crowd felt different. It seemed to be at attention. There was history in the air. It’s become unofficially official—fans now come to see the Greatest of All Time. I was outside Centre Court when the match finished and was caught in a sea of people making their exit. There was no end to them. To find refuge, I walked back in to watch a little of Victoria Azarenka and Sorana Cirstea. Centre Court looked like a salad bowl that had been turned over, with a few isolated scraps of people remaining. The air really had gone out of the place.
Federer said in his press conference that he had played well. It felt like a spirited performance to me. On most courts his shots don’t make much of a sound, but here the echo gave them a pistol-like crack. From a tactical perspective, on many occasions, I'm not sure what Federer is doing to win points, and then I look up and he’s got two sets in hand. Today, from up close, I immediately noticed the reserved violence in his style. Federer begins a point in a deliberately relaxed state. He wants as little interference with his instincts as possible—the big toe on his back foot just grazes the grass as he sets up to serve. But to hit a forehand, he springs forward and snaps over the ball with viciously contained power. To hit a slice backhand, he makes his entire body, from the head down, a part of the shot even when he’s sending it delicately short.
Competitive violence channeled by classic technique. It's the tennis ideal, and what makes Federer so representative of the sport as a whole for so many people.
As I said during the French Open, that’s a tough thing to fight. Federer was on top of Kohlschreiber from the start today. He worked the points for forehands, returned accurately—he had 20 or so break points—and kept the shanks to a minimum. Kohlschreiber, disgusted with his second set, gave everything he had to win the third. He’s a strong enough shotmaker to get it done—they played some spectacular points late in the third—but he had nothing left for the fourth and was down a break in minutes.
Afterward, Federer said that he was happy with the match because the “rhythm was high.” The points were fast-paced, and he was sharp. He’ll need to be again for his next round, when he'll face Robin Soderling. Sir Sod has been up and down in all of his wins so far, and he says he’s had stomach problems all week. He’ll have a couple days to recover, which Federer slyly insinuated he may need. “It’s going to be interesting to see,” Federer said of Soderling, “how he’s going to enter that match after coping with such a long tournament in Paris.” In other words, welcome to my world, Robin.
As for Soderling, he was unsure himself.
“Do you have any reason to think that you could get closer to Roger on the grass here than on clay?” he was asked.
"No," was Sod's immediate answer. This was a joke, of course. Of course it was a joke.
There was also a brief moment of humor in Federer’s presser, at least to my ears. He was asked to comment on playing Fabrice Santoro, who just went out of his final Wimbledon. Federer said, “He’s a great test for youngsters coming up, because it doesn’t matter how great you are, he’ll find a weakness in your game. Even though maybe there’s not many there, he’ll still make it really difficult for you…”
Federer was, indirectly, referring to himself when he said “not many [weaknesses] there.” I had thought for a second that he was going to say “even if you don’t have any.”
I laughed at that line, but there was a moment that left me shaking my head in Centre Court today and realizing again how few exploitable weaknesses Federer really does have. Serving to stay in the third set at 5-6, Federer made an incorrect challenge to go down 0-15. He was annoyed. Kohlschreiber was on fire. The set was in the balance. On the next point, the German bullied Federer out of position and seemed to have the point wrapped up with a perfect drop volley. But Federer, with that violent stride, reached the ball at the last second and guided it past a shocked Kohlschreiber and into the corner for a winner. He hit two aces and held. Where can a man like Philipp Kohlschreiber go after that? He ended up winning the set, but in his presser he said that even doing that didn't make him think he could win the match.
Like I said, I won’t see Federer again at this Wimbledon, the one that may be his crowning achievement. Most of the people who were in Centre Court today won’t see him again either. But we knew we'd gotten his best. As Federer hinted in his comments about Soderling today, a champion has to bring all of it—the cool head and the raw speed, the God-given instincts and the proud determination—to each match, to each point. There was a word that came to my mind to describe the way Federer played the point I just mentioned. It wasn’t calm. It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t superhuman. It was a hard-edged, single-minded effort with a sheen of graceful athleticism. It was a steely shot. (Who needs a steel roof?) It's the same word I would use to describe Federer's ultimate achievement, the one he most likely doubts that Robin Soderling can put an end to on Monday: 20 consecutive Grand Slam semifinals. That unprecedented mark of consistency will be pretty much impossible to surpass—to break. It may become Federer's signature legacy, because, more than anything else, it's a testament to the steeliness of its holder.