Although the Australian Open is a more important event, in some ways it's not as germane to emerging narrative of the year. It's the first leg of a very long race with ten or a dozen legs, and a three more portions of the course (the majors) that are formidable to navigate. Just as in horse racing, coming out of the gate fast is an advantage, but never a definitive one. By the time Indian Wells rolls around, we've been through one major and a handful of reasonably significant events.
More importantly, the players themselves are getting dialed in. If the players who did well Down Under maintain their pace, you begin to get an idea of what the year might hold in store. In that regard Indian Wells and Miami figure as real bell-weather events, although the imminent change to a clay surface (different horses for different courses, right?) can confuse things.
Roland Garros is unlikely to confuse things this year - not with Rafael Nadal clearly in control at the top of the game (just how clearly was manifest on Sunday, when he turned in a performance that can only be called "savage"). There will be a little more jockeying at the top before the switch to clay, and I read that as one more opportunity for Federer to rally and make his case as the not-so-distant no. 2 (rather than a struggling no. 3, or worse, should he run afoul of a Jon Isner, Richard Gasquet, or David Ferrer hard by Biscayne Bay).
I'll have plenty of chances to write about Nadal and Murray the week after next; right now, I'm keeping my powder dry. Last Friday, over at ESPN, I wrote that the Federer vs. Murray match was a significant showdown, and I stand by that. The result confirmed the worst fears a Federer fan might entertain, and added fuel to Murray bandwagon. I think Andrew Burton (here at TW) and Steve Tignor at Concrete Elbowboth nailed it. And Murray's comments (as cherry-picked by Steve) were insightful, intriguing, and telling.
This week confirmed in my mind that Federer is deep into Stage 3 of the stages of greatness. It's absurd to suggest that he can't win another major, perhaps three or four. But it's just as wrong-headed to argue that he's the same player he was pre-Wimbledon, 2008, or that his place at the center of the tennis universe is reserved until he declares that he's ready to move on. He's moved on. He's been pushed on. Now, only one thing remains to be seen: how hard he wants to fight for what he wants, or thinks he owns. This is going to tell us a great deal about whether Federer looks at his place in the game as some form of entitlement, or an honor he's going to have to fight to keep.
The irony is that this has almost been a mantra for me, since Federer first slipped into the No. 1 slot (and if he didn't exactly "slip" into it like a guy who inherits a fortune from an aunt he never met, you can't exactly cast him as the man who shot Liberty Valence, either). All that beautiful tennis, all those hard-won Grand Slam titles, and still that question loomed like thunder clouds gathering in the distance: What happens when adversity strikes? When he's got a lot to lose, rather than more to gain? When will we see a more diverse and true measure of his character as a competitor? Does the man have the quality we call "sand."
Federer provided the outlines of an answer at last year's US Open, which is why I'm still baffled by the frosty reception my column received on that occasion deep in the heart of Fedland. Since then, Federer's trail has only gotten rockier, proving that the American final was something other than a course correction or act of restoration. There's a new degree-of-difficulty in play here, and that's why issues like the Darren Cahill misfire, or the lack of any outward sign that Federer acknowledges the change in the direction of the wind, must be somewhat distressing to his fans - at least those of them who are not merely content to worship at his altar.
Let's keep a few things in perspective here: Pete Sampras went through a period of disarray before he bagged his 14th Grand Slam title. He had the puzzling losses and triggered many of the same speculations as Federer is now facing, in the third stage of greatness. But some of Sampras's problems resulted from the pro-active approach he took to winning that last major at the US Open. Here was a guy who bloodlessly fired Paul Annacone, who had shepherded Sampras through his glory days, because he was looking for something fresh, something a little different, something new that would help him realize the conviction that he had at least one major statement left to make. And Sampras made that statement after recognizing his mistake and going back to Annacone, hat in hand, more or less admitting he had acted rashly. It was a brave thing to do.
You know the old expression, Pride Goeth Before the Fall. . . But just as pride drives the very best players early in their careers, it can also be a formidable obstacle in the final stages. A champion who isn't willing to sacrifice his pride is a champion with a fatal flaw. Who can forget Jimmy Connors acting as if notching a win over Paul Haarhuis was the crowning moment of his career? Sampras making that phone call to a man he hurt and perhaps wronged, Annacone? Boris Becker, caught red-handed consulting with his trainer in the loo at Wimbledon? Low farce or high drama, such incidents just go to show the lengths to which the warriors will go to have one more shot, one more hit of the glory.
These days, Federer's game looks ragged, drained of commitment. He seems torn between desiring change and resisting it, and succumbing to the seductive tune of denial. He can drift on to Miami, convinced that he's just a little rusty and short of match play. In the short term, because there's nothing much he can do to stop the bleeding before Maimi starts, that may be the best attitude. But I think his best play will be to leave Florida, with or without the trophy, realizing that the game has changed, and he needs to change with it.
