!90624388 Just as our core selves are revealed (sometimes unattractively) at moments of stress, the core player tends to reemerge at those times as well. When Andy Roddick found himself up a set and holding second-set points against Federer in the Wimbledon men’s final this year, it was the culmination of years spent in the wilderness, losing, then finding, then improving his game. And yet, at that crucial junction, his volley—long the most ungainly and unnatural component of his game—let him down.
Similarly, while Andy Murray has shown an occasional capacity for aggression, his natural tendency is to play longer points until he can bamboozle opponents with his creativity. Other players seem to be catching on: Murray has not realized the summer most people envisioned for him. He stuck to a losing game plan again at the Open, and paid the price.
Which brings us to Roger Federer, who showed up on the scene years ago with a more-or-less complete game and the enviable challenge of figuring out just how to use it. Nadal arrived with the more limited toolbox of a clay courter and has methodically added to his arsenal until he had the necessary gifts to compete on all surfaces. We don’t usually use the word "gifts" to describe things striven for and earned, but Nadal has integrated his improvements so seamlessly that are easily mistaken for bequeathments.
Given what happened today, there's an even better chance now that we'll see Federer and Nadal battle for another Grand Slam title. Nadal has had some unexpected curve balls pitched to him these past few days by the weather gods and tournament referee, but he's accustomed by now to having to dodge and weave obstacles as he chases the the apparently indefatiguable Federer. In a way, it’s always been harder for him, thoughI doubt he sees it that way. In fact, I suspect he was less bummed out by the rain these past few days than was I.