April 1, 2013

A Different Kind Of Drama

 Miami Masters, Final

(2) Murray d. (3) Ferrer, 2/6 6/4 7/6

Andy Murray has won the Miami Masters 1000 title, in the process claiming his first trophy at this level in about eighteen months, reclaiming the number two spot from Roger Federer, and taking a hacksaw to David Ferrer’s enduring soul.Ferrer Murray Miami 2013 -1The score tells us only that there was a third-set tiebreaker, which Murray won easily. It emphatically fails to mention that getting there required fifteen breaks of serve, wounded backs, cramped legs and crampier brains, almost five-score unforced errors, high drama and the most ill-advised challenge in the short history of Hawkeye. Murray happened to be the man standing at the end, although they’d both spent some time sprawled on the court earlier.

There’s a view that Ferrer, whatever his ranking, is clearly the fifth best player in the world. It’s an uncontroversial view, and heavily supported statistically and anecdotally. The iconoclast in me would love to say it’s nonetheless wrong, and that I have found irrefutable proof that Fabio Fognini is actually mankind’s great hope. But I can’t – the evidence for Ferrer keeps piling up. Consider this: at the last four Masters level events where only two of the Big Four turned up, Ferrer has reached the final at three of them (Shanghai 2011, Paris 2012, Miami 2013) while at the fourth one he himself didn’t play (Montreal 2012). Then again, he subsequently reached those finals after the higher ranked player was knocked out by someone besides himself: he has never defeated an elite player in a semifinal or a final, at any level. Today he at least came within an inch or two.

Shanghai 2011 is well-worth bringing up, since it marks the only other time Ferrer and Murray have contested a final, and because, over all, this edition of the Miami tournament has closely reproduced the contours of that earlier event. In both cases, as mentioned, only two of the sport’s four best players turned up: here Federer and Rafael Nadal are absent, whereas in Shanghai it was Federer and Novak Djokovic.  In both cases there were a pair of unlikely semifinalists: Richard Gasquet and Tommy Haas this week, Feliciano Lopez and Kei Nishikori in Shanghai. And in both events the top seed fell early to a plucky German (Haas now; Florian Mayer then).

Haas of course fell to Ferrer in the semifinals in Miami, thereby kicking off the theme of the day, which was for the mercurial stylish player to establish an early lead, and then to see it ground inexorably to nothing. Haas is doubtless kicking himself for not holding his nerve better in that semifinal, since he would have fancied his chances against Murray today. Haas winning a Masters event at his age and with his history of injury, knocking off Djokovic en route, would have been the story of the year. Alas, he didn’t, so it is merely the story of the week. He led by a break in the third set, but couldn’t maintain it for long, therebyFerrer Miami 2013 -8 establishing another fascinating theme, which Murray and Ferrer today developed to its fullest extent, consequently exhausting its possibilities for later generations.

Of the fifteen breaks in today’s final, fully eight of them came in the final set. Most of them were sealed with errors, although a few of these errors at least came quickly, sparing viewers another interminable three-quarter pace rally. Murray’s back, which had seemed tight to open the match, became more of a factor as the third set wore on, especially on his serve. Meanwhile Ferrer was succumbing to cramps, and began scheduling a massage for each change of ends. Robbie Koenig and Jason Goodall, excellent as ever on the world feed, joined Murray in questioning the strict legitimacy of this. Astute fans might recall Stan Wawrinka employing a similar tactic at the Australian Open against Djokovic, although that at least had the benefit of ensuring a superb match wasn’t decided by a fatal cramp. For today’s final to have ended that way might have been a mercy killing.

Murray served for the title at 5/4, but the added tension, unsurprisingly, did not inspire him to elevate his level. He was far too passive, nursing his serve – his vertebra had by now fused – and duffing a couple of makeable passes. He was broken to 30. It was the last break of the afternoon. ‘It’s a different kind of drama to spectacular shotmaking,’ exclaimed Koenig, securing this week’s understatement award. Ferrer then held, availed himself of another leg-rub, and almost won the match.

Much has and will be written about the next game. Murray moved to 40-15, but then lost three points to fall down championship point. Another rally ensued. Murray went after a rare forehand, which Ferrer got back. Ferrer then halted play to challenge, apparently believing the ball had gone long. Hawkeye showed the ball catching the line, Ferrer lost the point, and with it the game and the match. My immediately response was that Ferrer’s reply to Murray’s forehand had been so feeble and short that Murray was probably going to knock off the next ball anyway, and that Ferrer had challenged because why not? Murray Miami 2013 -9Of course, both guys had just spent two and a half hours demonstrating their inability to put anything away, so perhaps there’s no reason to believe Ferrer was entirely out of the point.

Two further moments from earlier in this game should be noted, since they probably had some influence over Ferrer’s split-second decision to yank at his ripcord. Firstly, he’d tried to challenge at 15-15, but was told he’d taken too long, whereupon he and Cedric Mourier altercated briefly. (The television replay showed that Murray’s shot landed flush on the line.) Secondly, at 40-30 Murray went after a forehand to almost precisely the same spot, hit it long, then challenged unsuccessfully (and also bought himself time to change his sweatbands). I do wonder to what extent these points pushed Ferrer to his crucial challenge, and even whether it mattered. Afterwards Ferrer made it clear how much it did matter, precisely by emphatically refusing to talk about it. Murray held.

At this point CBS, the American network holding the rights to the last weekend of the Miami event, cut away to the NCAA basketball. The Miami coverage switched to the Tennis Channel, who were relaying the world feed. This was great news for those who subscribe to the Tennis Channel, but bad news for those who didn’t but remained curious to watch this final play out. Those of us labouring away in the rest of the world were left to wonder again at the weird American obsession with university-level sports. (I’ve had it explained to me, and I still don’t really understand it. I’m not aware of many other countries where such interest occurs. Having represented one of Australia’s largest universities at sport, I can personally attest that no one here cares at all.)

Anyway, in order to ensure this situation doesn’t recur, the Miami Masters final will next year commence earlier in the day. To put it another way, the top tennis players in the world are obliged to play a morning final in order to accommodate a university-level event. I could understand if it was the NBA play-offs. I also understand that tennis is a marginal sport in the States. But given this status, why CBS is interested in the first place? Perhaps they just like to feel involved. After all, they’ve resourcefully fucked up the US Open schedule for years.

Truth be told, those who missed the end didn’t miss much. That botched challenge accomplished something even Ferrer’s near-complete evisceration in the Acapulco final hadn’t – it broke something deep within him. Whether it was physical, mental or spiritual, I won’t speculate, but he mustered no further resistance. He collapsed to the court heavily after the sixth point of the tiebreaker, and two points later looked about as despondent as I ever seen him.

Murray, having romped through the tiebreak 7-1, looked almost apologetic, though not very much and not for long. After all, it’s hardly every day you win a Masters title, and it’s rare indeed to win one playing like that. Praise be for small mercies.

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March 29, 2013

Private Universe

Miami Masters, Quarterfinals

(2) Murray d. (9) Cilic, 6/4 6/3

(8) Gasquet d. (4) Berdych, 6/3 6/3

The fourth and last quarterfinal at the Miami Masters 1000 was, for non-partisan interests, undoubtedly the most anticipated of the lot. Tomas Berdych is ranked number six, and seeded four. Richard Gasquet is ranked ten and seeded eight. Their head-to-head sat at four apiece. Gasquet Berduch Miami 2013 -1It was therefore disappointing that it commenced in a nearly-empty stadium. As primetime night matches go, it wasn’t a compelling advertisement for the sport or for the event.

By the time Gasquet flashed yet another backhand winner up the line to hold for 3/0 in the second set, capping a sequence of seven straight games, the stands had filled encouragingly. But the mood remained subdued, the noise rarely rose above a dull murmur, and the murmur only rose to fitfulness for the dead net-cord winners. All crowds love those. Kiss Cam strove but failed to enliven proceedings; many attending didn’t note the cue to snog their neighbour. This left us with the unusual spectacle of American sports fans appearing on a Jumbotron yet not instantly succumbing to capering lunacy.

Gasquet’s decisive run of games had begun when he trailed 2/3 in the first set, having narrowly eked out a pair of holds to get there. Berdych was holding easily, and his superior power off the ground was exposing Gasquet’s tactical shortcomings: the commentators had already commenced their usual dirge about the Frenchman’s remote court positioning. (In fact the Frenchman was only halfway towards the backboard, which for him qualifies as attack mode.) This tallied nicely with the strong pre-match sentiment that Berdych would win, although no one could say how comfortably he’d manage it. His form had been poor earlier in the week – barely surviving initial rounds against renowned hardcourt giants Daniel Gimeno-Traver and Alejandro Falla – but he seemed to be back nearer his imposing best, having dealt with Sam Querrey for the loss of just two games.  He’d also defeated Gasquet quite comfortably just a fortnight ago in Indian Wells.

That sixth game proved to be Gasquet’s toughest hold yet, as he fended off a pair of break points. Berdych was spraying errors all over the place (except inside the court, obviously), but he was also hitting plenty of winners. The prediction in commentary was unanimous that he would overcome the former habit before the latter, and inevitably surge ahead. Then he was broken, and Gasquet entered that fey state he can only locate once or twice each year, when he anticipates everything, transitions seamlessly, regulates the depth and pace on his forehand properly, and generally can’t miss the court. Berdych continued portioning out errors and winners at a ratio of about two-to-one, was shut out entirely by Gasquet sliding serve to the ad court, and dropped his serve again to lose the set.

He looked numb at the sit-down, eyes unblinkingly intent on his own private horizon. Barry Cowan mentioned that Berdych had been seeing a mental coach, but was at pains to make clear that this wasn’t a sports psychologist. Sadly Cowan added no more, and I was left to ponder precisely what a mental coach is, and whether Berdych’s fixed stare reflected an esoteric focussing technique or merely shell-shock. Perhaps he’d established a telepathic link to his mental coach, although any advice he received over that link turned out not to be especially useful. He was broken again at Gasquet’s earliest convenience, in the second game of the next set. From there the Frenchman’s level never sagged and Berdych never stopped haemorrhaging errors (or indeed hitting winners). He was bellowing out his frustration by the later stages, surely in defiance of accepted mental coaching techniques.

The crowd had swelled to a more substantial level by the time Gasquet finally served it out. Given that a match I’d anticipated being close wasn’t, it could be argued that the crowd knew something I didn’t. In a way, perhaps they did. They knew that the match that truly interested them – the one involving Serena Williams – wasn’t due to start before 9pm local time, and that it was a relatively frigid evening in Miami. Why risk a chill for two guys you’ve barely heard of, even if they are in the top ten? I admit I have not personally verified this with each person there, but it’s a theory. It’s also a shame. Few could quibble at the desire to see the world number one (Williams) thrash the defending champion (Agnieszka Radwanska), but you’d think given the price of the tickets more fans would make the effort to see the earlier match as well, even if it wasn’t as sternly contested as we’d hoped.

Gasquet will face Andy Murray in the semifinals. Murray earlier defeated Marin Cilic, proving so dominant that he was broken twice yet still won easily. The only real interest came in the final games, when Cilic saved a half-dozen match points, but he was already down a set and several breaks by this time, so there was no cause for alarm anywhere but in the Sky Sports studio.

The head-to-head between Murray and Cilic is now 8-1 in the Scot’s favour. That lone upset occurred four years ago at the US Open, and it was predictably this match that was exhumed for our delectation, thereby enabling us to regard today’s encounter as some kind of revenge. In that vein I should point out that Gasquet beat Murray last year in Rome. Notwithstanding that Murray has met and defeated the Frenchman since then, I have no doubt he will once more seek the hot closure of vengeance.

Then again, perhaps it’s Gasquet seeking revenge. If he performs like he did tonight he may well get it. But that ‘if’ has become one of the more fraught qualifications in the sport, and I doubt even his ardent fans place much faith in Gasquet’s consistency any more. In full flight his game is a rare spectacle, and should be enjoyed for what it is. It’s well-worth the price of a ticket.

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March 25, 2013

The Elusive Billy Bye

Andy Murray tomorrow plays his third promising youngster in a row. He’ll face Grigor Dimitrov in a widely anticipated Stadium Court encounter. The last time they met was in the Brisbane final in January (the heat and humidity will thus seem familiar). Yesterday Murray saw off Bernard Tomic quite comfortably. By some coincidence Murray and Tomic met in Brisbane last year. William Bye Macau 2010 -1In the first round Murray easily accounted for the eminently defatigable William Bye, yet again. Murray and Bye seem to meet in Brisbane and Miami every year. Their fortunes are tightly wreathed.

William Bye is sometimes called Billy by his closest friends, and always called that by those passionate supporters who believe their searing regard confers a certain intimacy with a famous stranger they will probably never meet. The elusive Billy is especially hard to meet; he rarely grants interviews, and believes only important things should be said on social media, which means he has long since given up on it.

Bye’s country of origin is unknown. He is almost certainly not related to China’s Yan Bai. Occasionally he will be billed as Ukrainian – ‘Bye (UKR)’ – although this is surely incorrect, and merely due to broadcasters lazily assuming that Bye (UNK) is a typo. Mostly his nationality is simply left blank. Some whisper that he was born in international waters, on an abandoned oilrig that for a time saw use as a Megaupload server-farm. He will neither confirm nor deny this. There are rumours that he has been approached by Sweden with an offer of citizenship. By accepting this offer he would instantly become Sweden’s highest ranked player, and guarantee himself a spot on the Davis Cup squad. So far the Swede’s overtures have been rebuffed. Just because Bye hails from nowhere doesn’t mean he forgets where he’s from, or the rich tradition he incarnates.

While Bye himself is relatively new to the tour, he is the latest representative of a venerable lineage of also-rans, and his family’s near-exploits have fascinated writers for centuries. Ever one to champion the little guy, the Byes even tempted Shakespeare into occasional excursions into sports writing. This is presumably what Keats was referring to when he reflected on the unnecessarily high quality of Shakespeare’s ‘By-writing’.

The ‘e’, incidentally, was only added to the end of the family name late in the nineteenth century. This was the era of the Byes’ greatest triumphs, which predictably came on Wimbledon’s blessed turf. William Bye would regularly reach the semifinals at The Championships in those years, but could never quite manage to win through to the final, entirely due to the grace, power and skill of his perennial opponent William Renshaw. Billy and Willy would set the place alight – in those days the Centre Court turf was more flammable, but it was always Renshaw who wore the fancy asbestos pants.

Many of his devoted fans will remember the current Bye’s titanic tussle with Murray at Crandon Park two years ago. The Scot scraped through that match, but had little left in his tank for the subsequent round, falling to Alex Bogomolov Jr. This was admittedly Murray at his most vulnerable, in those years when his complicated post-Melbourne strategy involved losing every match until April. It was a missed opportunity for young Bye.

It was only last year that Murray broke out of this pattern. Having fallen early in Indian Wells to Guillermo Garcia-Lopez, Murray went on to reach the final of Miami a few weeks later, heavily assisted by a series of walkovers en route. These included Rafael Nadal in the semifinals, Milos Raonic in the third round, and of course Bye in the opening match. It was good news for Murray – essentially setting his feet on a path to Olympic and Grand Slam glory – but bad news for Bye. Still injured, he once again fell early in Monte Carlo, this time to Nadal. He just can’t catch a break.

Really, young Bye does suffer the most appalling fortune in such matters. Despite consistently reaching the main draw at Masters level, especially in America, he never fails to draw a seeded player in the first round. It really is rotten luck, and highlights the insidious Catch-22 beneath which the up-and-coming players must labour. In order to avoid seeds in the early rounds you need to be seeded yourself, which means a higher ranking, but in order to attain a higher ranking you need to win matches, which you can’t, because you’re always facing seeds early on.

Ryan Harrison is in something of a similar situation, and I think it would be mutually beneficial for these two to compare notes. Indeed, I wonder what would happen if they were to meet on court. Given Bye’s superior experience, I’d give him the edge. Plus Harrison has proven his capacity to lose to anyone for no reason, even if they come from nowhere.

Bye has yet to reach the main draw at a Major, but one suspects it’s only a matter of time. Given that the USTA is not shy of innovation, I predict his breakthrough will come at the US Open. Look for Bye to contest the first round in New York within a decade. In the meantime, his urgent task is to push further into the main draws at the Masters and smaller events. I think this a realistic goal. I believe we’ll see Bye in the second round at Masters level before too long. After all, if the intention of inviting Bye to contest the first round is to ease the top seeds’ passage through the draw, why stop there?

Update: I’ve been informed that Bye is already widely celebrated. His past exploits are celebrated here.

And thanks to Cindy, Bye’s official player profile is here. What have I wandered into?

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March 23, 2013

A Lack of Vision

Miami Masters, Second Round

The second round having commenced, the presiding powers at the Miami Masters have graciously allowed the cameras at the Crandon Park Tennis Center to be turned on. Blake Miami 2013 -1Around the world tennis fans were intrigued to discover that watching tennis matches unfold provides an even richer visual experience than following the scores on one’s smartphone.

Perhaps ‘rich’ is the wrong term. After all, as Borges, Empson and many others have pointed out, ambiguity derives not from certainty but from ambiguity, and there’s nothing as ambiguous as wondering how a sporting contest is unfolding merely by noting a few numbers ticking by. The imagination is free to populate the yawning gap between each score update with a phantasmagoria of one’s own devising. That was Miami’s gift to us, and to grumble overly at the lack of television coverage is to be churlish and ungrateful.

I personally enjoyed the moment when the feud between Michael Llodra and Benoit Paire erupted into violent mayhem, as they recreated several classic Road Runner episodes for the few people in attendance, culminating when the elder Frenchman dropped a grand piano on the younger man’s head. Paire, addled, refused to shake hands afterwards. With no vision, you can’t say it didn’t happen. Meanwhile I have it on some authority that James Blake’s victory over Ryan Harrison involved little actual tennis, but was called off when Blake beat the younger American half to death with his walking frame. Lleyton Hewitt progressed after defeating Joao Sousa in a spirited game of KerPlunk. Sadly, he lost to Gilles Simon today at tennis.

Actually, there has been word that there were already cameras running, providing streamed content for the media present on the grounds. The decision to withhold these streams from a global audience, without even shady television interests to ‘justify’ it, is coming to seem more capricious all the time. At least this year nothing truly momentous occurred, unlike last year when Fernando Gonzalez retired on the first evening. Apparently it was very moving.

Juan Monaco last year reached the semifinals in Miami, and thanks to an accommodating draw was lucky enough to have most of his matches shown on television. Like so many South Americans before him, Monaco was thrilled to discover that he enjoyed at least as much local support as those players who’d opted to be born in the United States, and that his supporters were far more accomplished in the thriving art of close-harmony, full-throated chanting. More of Miami’s population are born on foreign soil than any other US city. A sizable proportion of those are South American, a fact that both Andy Roddick and Mardy Fish were reminded of upon facing Monaco. Roddick, still hung over from defeating Roger Federer the round before – which biologists have confirmed to be the rarest species of Roddick there is – was bagelled by the Argentine. Fish was thrashed. Monaco even gave a decent account of himself against Novak Djokovic in the semifinals.

This semifinal run proved fundamental to his subsequent rise into the top ten. The 360 points he gained was the second best result of his season. By losing to Albert Ramos in the second round this year Monaco – on-site reports mention a Cloverfield-type monster was involved – he will fall four places to number eighteen. His form this year has been poor, and it’s hard to imagine he won’t sink considerably lower in the next six months.

It wasn’t the last time an Argentine was upset today, and nor was it the most surprising (Horacio Zeballos lost to Kevin Anderson). Juan Martin del Potro didn’t win his maiden Masters title in Indian Wells last week, although leading by a set and break he wasn’t miles away from doing so. But he did beat Andy Murray and Djokovic en route. According to the rules governing such things, he was permitted to take the next tournament off. There was a time when an actual title was required before one was allowed a catastrophic letdown the following week, but not any more. Now it is enough merely to have beaten a member of the top four. I suppose the principle is the same, though; enervated from conquering Everest, you cannot be expected to hurdle a mole hill.

Today that molehill was Tobias Kamke. I’ve long since given up expecting much from the German, and have progressed to the stage where I’m merely pleased by the rare moments when his aspirations towards shot-making result in him actually making shots. Today, faced with an inexcusably somnolent del Potro, he made plenty of them. From 2/5 down in the first set, Kamke won ten games to one, as well as a tiebreaker, and he did it by surpassing del Potro blow-for-blow, especially on the forehand side and often on the run. He wasn’t deflected from his course by a long rain delay in the second set – it justified the comparisons to Lukas Rosol – although the wait apparently depleted whatever scant reserves of energy del Potro had left, and raced to 5/0. The Argentine managed to grab a game, but any hopes of a fight-back – unlikely given his fatal lack of endeavour – came to naught. Kamke served the match out at love. This is the first time he’s reached the third round at Masters level. Expect a let-down next week.

If Kamke had earned the right to be compared to Rosol, Rosol soon disqualified himself from the same privilege. He managed just one game against Djokovic in a match that detained both men for rather less than an hour. Everyone could have retired earlier had the lights on the main stadium not failed for about half an hour during Maria Sharapova’s emphatic destruction of Eugenie Bouchard. They could have played on through the delay and it wouldn’t have made much difference, whether Sharapova was equipped with night-vision goggles or not.

Rosol doubtless would have preferred darkness as well, if only to ensure fewer witnesses. He might have also requested the television cameras be turned off (perhaps he was bewildered by having his match televised at all). At least then we could have imagined that the lopsided scoreline reflected a more intriguing contest than the one which actually unfolded, i.e. the usual one in which the world number one scourges his hapless opponent from the court. The Serb looked invincible. Of course, he isn’t. Del Potro proved that in Indian Wells, thus inspiring him to take the following week off. It’s a mark of respect, really. Rosol has therefore paid Rafael Nadal the ultimate compliment by taking nearly a year off.

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March 18, 2013

Meaning More Than Most

Indian Wells, Final

(5) Nadal d. (7) del Potro, 4/6 6/3 6/4

Rafael Nadal today defeated Juan Martin del Potro in the final of the Indian Wells Masters. Since returning from injury he has compiled a record of 17-1, and won three tournaments, the most of anyone on tour. Overall, it was his 600th career victory, which moves to him to second on the list of active players (behind only Federer), and his twenty-second Masters title, which is now the record. Nadal IW 2013 -10He also returns, albeit briefly, to the top four. Nadal’s career has long since reached the point where the numbers will, if permitted, more or less speak for themselves.

Tempting though it might be to put that to the test, I should probably say a little more, or at least add a few more numbers. It was just del Potro’s second Masters series final – the first came in Canada in 2009, where he lost to Andy Murray – which is one of those facts that I still find surprising even though I already know it. He has never won one, which places him in a strange category of men who’ve won Majors without winning a Masters, a category that includes the likes of Gaston Gaudio and Yevgeny Kafelnikov. Of course winning these things isn’t easy. In the last three years there have been twenty-seven Masters titles contested (nine per season), and all but three were won by members of the top four (and two of those were won by world number fives at the Paris Indoors). Of the remaining twenty-four, eight were won by Novak Djokovic, seven by Nadal, five by Roger Federer and four by Andy Murray.

But even reaching a Masters final is an achievement of which to be proud. Aside from the top four, only David Ferrer (three) and Tomas Berdych (two) have managed it more than once in the last three years, and they are currently ranked numbers five and six, respectively. The problem, of course, is that even to reach the final more often than not a player must beat two members of the top four, which is precisely what del Potro did in the last few days, on both occasions recovering from a set down. It was heroic, but it had its consequences.

Winning today’s final would have required he defeat Murray, Djokovic and Nadal consecutively. It was little wonder that by the deciding set of today’s match his legs looked gone. Given that even the ESPN commentators had noted it, there was little chance that the Argentine had missed the signs. It meant that he had little chance of reprising the pattern from the first two sets, which was for the man who fell down an early break to storm back and take it. He went down an early break, and watched the title melt away.

Some two and half hours earlier, Nadal flew to a relatively rapid 3/0 lead in the opening set, before the rangefinder on his forehand went haywire due to papal intervention. Del Potro meanwhile dialled his forehand up to its usual frightening pace, and broke back, then broke again and served out the set with perfect authority. Worryingly for Nadal’s fans, their man opened the second set with another tentative forehand error – by this point neither man had struck a backhand winner, or indeed many backhands at all – and he was broken again shortly thereafter. Delpo IW 2013 07Del Potro moved to 3/1 and appeared well on the way to a maiden Masters title. Nadal lifted, and of his forehand shed its reticence. He broke again and closed out a second set that was nearly a mirror of the first.

From there it was what the commentators like to call a one set shoot-out, with the attendant belief that the match was now evenly poised. Even leaving to one side the question of momentum, which would surely have been with Nadal, there was the issue of fitness. Del Potro’s stamina is commendable given his size, but even rested he is hardly a match for Nadal in the area, and the Argentine had already outlasted the two best hardcourters in the world in the last few days. Nadal commenced the final set with a backhand winner – from memory it was his first – and then broke del Potro again, establishing a lead he would never relinquish. The Argentine’s serve grew meeker (by the later stages his first deliveries were only rarely clearing 110mph), while the Mallorcan’s forehand grew more ferocious and less inclined to miss. Del Potro would inevitably fall farther behind as each point wore on, forced back and to his left, until by the end he was conceding any short into the open court. He saved three match points on his own serve at 3/5, but none on Nadal’s serve the following game. A final weary forehand fell wide, and Nadal collapsed onto his back, arms quivering tautly skyward and throat opened full throttle. This Masters title meant a lot to him. They somehow mean more the more you have, and he has more than anyone.

At the risk of sounding prophetic after the fact, I suspect I harboured fewer doubts than Nadal that he would reascend to his erstwhile level quite soon after returning to the tour. If only for the purposes of discussion, it is useful that he faced del Potro today, since it is with del Potro that a useful comparison can be made. Del Potro’s wrist injury at the beginning of 2010 removed him from the tour for an entire season (apart from an aborted comeback attempt in Bangkok). Immediately prior to his injury he’d reached the final of the Tour Finals, and slightly before that won the US Open. After returning he seemed to take an eternity to get going again, and his fans waited seemingly in vain for him to recapture to his previous form, notwithstanding early titles in Delray Beach and Estoril. Some profess still to be waiting, although I frankly think he has already returned to his original standard, which was a fairly imposing one on a good day, and one that could blow anyone away on a great one. He’d enjoyed a few very great days at the 2009 US Open, but then I think the suddenness of his disappearance invited fans to believe that he’d once played like that all the time, which certainly wasn’t the case. Happily, he’s been closer to that level this week in Indian Wells, but the Australian Open surely taught us that these things can change without warning.

But anyway, the longer point was that serious injuries take a long time to recover from. In the rather nebulous parlance of these things, a player must regain match fitness, and test out the (hopefully) recovered body-part in a real conditions. Del Potro still has persistent problems with his left wrist; even today he was having trouble hitting his backhand, especially early on. He is learning to manage it. Nadal’s case is different. Before his seven month break, he was already a better tennis player than nearly everyone else in the world, day in and day out. He had also played with troublesome knees for years. Nadal IW 2013 -9Unlike del Potro’s wrist, Nadal has learned long since not to be distracted by his knees during play. Assuming he retained sufficient mobility to enable his forehand to do its work, I couldn’t see any reason why he wouldn’t be back near top form sooner rather than later.

Admittedly, I hadn’t predicted he would win Indian Wells – just as I hadn’t expected Federer to be injured, or for Djokovic to fold so acutely in his semifinal – but I did think he’d clean up in South America and Mexico. I confess I hadn’t really considered who would win today – sometimes I completely forget to make any prediction, even in my head – although I believed that a del Potro victory would have to come quickly if it was to come at all. (The ATP website had displayed no such ambivalence. It was apparently so convinced that the Argentine would triumph that it posted the result early, a move akin to pre-taping the weather report.)

It would be wilful for anyone to go on expressing much anxiety at Nadal’s prospects for the next part of the season, or to insist that his ‘comeback’ still requires delicate care lest it collapse beneath the weight of expectation, if not over-confidence. I think people can afford to worry less on his behalf, and worry more for his opponents, especially with the clay season imminent. Nadal will skip the Miami Masters next week, which will return him to number five in the rankings, but after that I refuse to see him as anything but the overwhelming favourite in Monte Carlo, and beyond.

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March 16, 2013

Feathery Derangement

Indian Wells, Quarterfinals

(1) Djokovic d. (8) Tsonga, 6/3 6/1

(7) del Potro d. (3) Murray, 6/7 6/3 6/1

Idle hopes that the second pair of Indian Wells quarterfinals would prove more interesting than the first grew forlorn after today’s first match, although I suppose this depends on one’s definition of ‘interesting’.(AP Photo/Mark J. Terrill) If you’re fascinated by groups of highly partisan tennis fans losing their minds on social media, then last night’s disappointing encounter between Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer had it all. (I’m not particularly interested in that, although I will register dull wonder at how incensed some people become at the differing opinions of others around trivial matters.) Fans of public executions no doubt appreciated Novak Djokovic’s flawless fifty-four minute thrashing of Jo-Wilfried Tsonga.

Sky Sports was my provider of choice for today’s matches, partly because their streams are of reasonable quality, but mostly due to Andy Murray’s presence on the order of play. My firm belief is that the spectacle of professional tennis is only heightened when it is accompanied by a deranged cheer-squad.

I don’t mean to suggest that Sky does nothing but cheer for Murray. After all, sometimes they’re obliged to show matches that don’t involve him. They’re careful to bring in a non-British commentator for these encounters, to lend the affair a suitably cosmopolitan feel. Peter Fleming had come all the way from America. Absolved of the need to be partisan, he could merely be inscrutable: ‘I don’t think Tsonga has done enough to throw caution to the wind. He’s just been a little reticent to throw everything at the wall.’ It was a hard point to argue with, at least until I’d deciphered it. I think it meant that Tsonga was too reluctant to be reckless. He needed to be more reckless about being reckless. Or perhaps he needed to be more reckless about that. It didn’t help that even as Fleming spoke Tsonga was ploughing a sequence of insufficiently reckless forehands into the lower half of the net. When your safe game is producing extravagant errors, there’s no reason to believe greater abandon is the key. Still, perhaps it was a question of intent.

Cutaway shots of Tsonga’s coach Roger Rasheed gave little away. I imagine he was preoccupied with the effort of distilling this debacle into a psychotically positive message. If anyone is going to manage it, he’s the man. (It’s a quality he shares with North Korea’s military regime.) You can always tell with him – it’s in his chewing. Today he clearly had his special tweeting gum in. His eyes remained hidden behind sunglasses, but I like to believe they were closed, enabling perfect stillness while he composed the perfect hashtag.

Fleming was the only one among Sky’s assembled luminaries who had much to say about the match at all. Marcus Buckland, who apparently lives in the Sky studio, didn’t bother with the link man’s usual job, which is to sustain interest even when the match turns out to be a dud: ‘Totally predictable so far,’ he remarked after the first set. He asked Mark Petchey if he thought it was totally predictable. Petch concurred that it was totally predictable. They were totally killing time until Andy Murray took the court. This wasn’t due to occur for another hour and a half, but they knew they could fill the gap with replays of the Scot’s past triumphs.

Djokovic thereafter grew only more magnificent, and finished with the astonishing ratio of twenty-one winners to just six errors. Sky was contractually obligated to provide some kind of post-match analysis, and hastily arrived at the conclusion that the result had hinged on Tsonga’s tactical shortcomings. Admittedly these are legion, but I’m not convinced they were decisive today. When the better tennis player plays as well as he can, he invariably wins, and right now Djokovic is unquestionably the best tennis player in the world. Tsonga could have channelled the enmeshed spirits of Napoleon and Hannibal, and he might have made it closer. But he would have done better to hit more of his forehands in, especially the reckless ones.

Having disposed of all this unpleasantness, Sky brought us some more in the form of Carlos Berlocq’s apparently notorious grunt. This was a clear improvement from their point of view, since it permitted them to express righteous outrage. Surprisingly their feelings on this tedious matter aligned perfectly with Murray’s, which was that the Argentine’s grunt is excessive. This ate up a bad ten minutes, and left enough time for an extended highlights package from the final of the 2009 Cincinnati Masters, between Murray and Juan Martin del Potro. Apparently the ideal way to prepare for an extended hardcourt tussle between two guys is by watching the same two guys on a different hardcourt several years earlier.

Eventually this gave way to live tennis, expertly narrated by Andrew Castle and Barry Cowan. By 3/3 in the first set Castle declared this to be the best of the Indian Wells quarterfinals, and you didn’t need to be British to agree. I seem to be in a minority of tennis fans in that I quite enjoy Castle’s work. His delivery is fine, he’s sufficiently opinionated and won’t let idle idiocy from his booth-mate pass by without interrogation, and his flights of fancy are generally well calculated.

For better or worse, I can hardly recall the titanic climax of the 2008 Wimbledon Final’s fourth set tiebreaker, as Nadal then Federer produced outrageous shots to gain then save championship point, without hearing Castle’s response: ‘The two best passing shots of the tournament – without doubt ­­– have just taken place on the last two points. It’s eight-all. What’s next?’ He started out solidly today, easily talking rings around Cowan, although his equanimity sagged as del Potro gained a break in the second set, and displayed no interest in giving it back: ‘He’s not choking; he’s not getting uptight! Why not?!’ Though probably intended ironically, it sounded a trifle petulant. Cowan, who’d astutely backed the Argentine, offered no answer.

It was the first time Murray and del Potro had faced each other since the end of 2009, and this is the first tournament the Scot has played since the Australian Open. Nevertheless, the belief was fairly widespread that he’d win. This belief seemed justified as he claimed a densely-textured first set, winning the key points by targeting del Potro’s backhand. The Argentine was unusually reluctant to bring his mighty forehand into play. This changed in the second set, and he started to venture forward more. Indeed they both did, although back in the Sky studio they made it clear that only their man had any business up there. Petchey later delivered the entirely backhanded compliment that del Potro ‘volleys well when he can get his racquet on the ball’. He got his racquet on enough. By the third set still hadn’t faced a break point, owing mostly to prowess off the ground, since his serve numbers were hardly stellar.

Murray finally achieved a couple of break points early in the third, but didn’t appear to realise how valuable they were, leaving them untended, whereupon a gleeful del Potro snatched them back. Murray was broken in the following game, and it was hard to say it wasn’t a mental let down, and that he hadn’t been distracted by the missed opportunity, a feather on the soul. Murray was broken again to close the match, sealing it with a double fault. It was still the best of the quarterfinals, but for a match that had started out so strongly, it was strange for the way it just melted into air. The issue was probably match-play, which Murray sorely lacks, and del Potro’s forehand, which grew almost uncounterable as the match wore down. ‘He has a big game,’ remarked Murray in his press conference, ‘and when he strings it together he’s a top, top player.’

‘Probably not the result we were all looking for,’ admitted Buckland back in the studio. The Sky coverage presumably wasn’t going to Argentina.

During the final set, querulous messages appeared from several senior British journalists on Twitter. Firstly David Law remarked that: ‘Following Twitter during big televised matches I’m learning commentators can’t say anything right.’ Richard Evans responded: ‘Commentators are such easy targets for people who have never done the job.’ I have no idea whose comments they were responding to (certainly not mine), but I’ll still make some general points, since it has a bearing on the theme of today’s post, which is nationalism in commentary.

Firstly, it’s worth pointing out that social media, and Twitter in particular, entertains a very heavy selection bias in this respect (and in all respects, which is why it is so questionable as a metric for measuring popularity, let alone value). The nature of the medium is such that you are far more likely to hear about bad commentary than good. Ninety-five per cent of commentary is at worst unremarkable, but it is the remaining five per cent that will be aggregated onto your timeline. People are more likely to praise a commentator or coverage overall, but will only very rarely relay a specific moment of commentary they liked.

To an extent this perception is compounded because most of the people who are likely to be commenting on Twitter during a professional tennis match probably have little need for commentary anyway. They would certainly miss it if it wasn’t there, since it has become part of the furniture of sports coverage, but it provides little informational value for those who know the game well. Tennis isn’t that complicated, and there is usually broad agreement about what is going on most of the time. The knowledgeable often only notice commentary when it’s missing, or when the commentators are wrong or biased. Indeed, this is the reason why I seek it out.

Secondly, just because most people have never or will never commentate doesn’t disqualify them from having an opinion. If that were the case then bad commentary would drift almost beyond reproach. Especially in an age of specialisation, the contention that you shouldn’t criticise someone because you couldn’t do their job better is specious. Thirdly, the validity of criticism is not predicated on how easy or hard it was to make. Yes, it is indeed easy to criticise.

I am not accusing Sky Sports of patriotic bias towards Murray. Surely the matter is beyond question, and I cannot imagine their coverage is intended to sound any other way. They know their market, and their market is British. They are currently running a poll in which viewers are invited to name the male tennis player they miss most. Tim Henman is the clear number one (although I’m deeply impressed to see that Fabrice Santoro is at number six). Indeed, I imagine that any effort towards greater neutrality would be looked on unkindly by management. I’m not suggesting it is even especially cynical – although it might be – merely that those speaking on air are permitted the ful  range of their pleasure or disappointment when the local hope triumphs or loses. Like it or not, such policies are unlikely to change.

I don’t particularly like it, and I will go on poking fun.

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March 12, 2013

The Limits of Good Taste

Indian Wells, Day Five

(Q) Gulbis d. (20) Seppi, 5/7 6/3 6/4

Ernests Gulbis has now won thirteen consecutive matches, an audacious streak that includes the Delray Beach title, as well as qualification for that event and the current one, which is the Indian Wells Masters. For wonderment, this sequence of results is exceeded only by the encouraging shortage of twee headlines indebted to a certain play by Oscar Wilde. There was a time when Gulbis couldn’t take a set without some hack deploying the phrase ‘The Importance of Beating Ernests’. Googling that phrase returns at all least two solid pages of material directly related to Gulbis, but precious little from recent months. Simon IW 2013 -5It’s a small thing, admittedly, but with so many reasons to despair at the frequently execrable quality of tennis writing, one welcomes any invitation to hope.

Today Gulbis saw off Andreas Seppi in a little over two hours, recovering from a quite disastrous first set – the Latvian served for it twice before losing 5/7 – to take the next two. In between there was no shortage of excellent tennis from both, interspersed with the species of mayhem Gulbis has made characteristic. There was a typically accomplished racquet smash, and a selection of self-directed tirades conducted at varying tempos and intensities, an endlessly inventive series of variations on the theme of self-excoriation. One of these (at a pivotal moment in the second set) skirted the limits of good taste by mentioning his opponent by name, as though Beethoven has prefaced the Diabelli Variations by pointing out that Diabelli’s original waltz was shit. Still, he apparently made a good case. Seppi immediately handed over the crucial break.

It is the first time Gulbis has won at least three matches at consecutive tournaments since mid-2010, which I don’t include as a fine example of the statistician’s art, but as an indicator that his latest declarations of rediscovered commitment may have some merit. Afterwards he was forthright about his chances against Rafael Nadal, who’d earlier progressed via walkover: he fancies them very much. If Gulbis wins that one, let’s see how many can resist the dark allure of the punning headline.

(2) Federer d. Dodig, 6/3 6/1

Any belief that Roger Federer was pleased when Julien Benneteau was forcibly cleared from his path was quickly dispelled once today’s match began. The Swiss looked more distracted than relieved, and far less alert than he had against Denis Istomin in the previous round. His opponent today was Benneteau’s conqueror Ivan Dodig, who as ever looked like an unmade bed. Federer, who maintains a direct telepathic link to Anna Wintour, was no doubt deeply offended by Dodig’s rumpled ensemble, especially the yellow t-shirt which betrayed a fondness for leonine heraldry commensurate with Radek Stepanek’s. Whether this was responsible for the subterranean quality of the first set is a nice question – there were some jagged late-afternoon shadows that can’t have helped – but it’s undeniable that the defending champion began to play better in the second set after Dodig changed his top. I think there was still a lion, but it was now mercifully lost against darker fabric.

It was a match framed and scoured by double faults. Federer commenced with one, the first of three points he discarded casually to open the match (although these would prove to be the only break points he faced). Dodig later threw in a few to be broken at 3-4, and another to close the match about half an hour later. There were others, mostly tossed in with an insouciance made notorious by Fernando Verdasco.

During the pre-match hit-up a debate developed among the assembled Sky Sports luminaries as to which retired player they missed most. The issue was put to viewers. Andre Agassi proved a popular choice, as did Andy Roddick among those with shorter memories. The talk turned to which current players would be missed when the time came. Andrew Castle was in no doubt that Federer’s eventual departure would leave the most gaping hole, a contention he went on repeating freely when it turned out that no one else had the authority to stop him. He sounded like he was rehearsing Federer’s valedictory speech. Peter Fleming’s efforts to redirect the discussion elsewhere were slow to yield results.

Nonetheless, Castle’s profound affinity for the world No.2 bore fruit late in the second set, when he was among the first to note that Federer had tweaked his back. The Tennis Channel commentators were entirely clueless. Unfortunately, so was Federer’s opponent. Had Dodig spotted Federer’s discomfort, one hopes he would have made a better effort to probe and exploit it. Instead he continued playing as he had done before, which is to say poorly, while Federer began to lash his groundstrokes boldly in an effort to get off court. It worked. He’ll have a day to rest and recover, before he faces Stanislas Wawrinka in the fourth round.

(13) Simon d. Paire, 3/6 7/6 6/4

Both Richard Gasquet and Tomas Berdych posted cosy wins, over Jerzy Janowicz and Florian Mayer respectively. Gilles Simon later defeated Benoit Paire in a match that was comfortable for no one, including the players, who seemed hobbled, and the commentators and spectators, who were powerless to make it stop. Wizened media types who’d believed they’d seen everything felt their stomach roil as the match spiralled away in a flutter of breaks and feeble errors. Paire served for it at 6/5 in the second set, but was broken back after he ran around his backhand in order to approach the net as ineffectively as possible. He also held a match point in the ensuing tiebreak, but was again undone by poor decision-making, abetted by Simon’s exhilarating tactic of hitting the ball back in slowly forever. Paire ended with 79 unforced errors.

For spectators, it was the least enjoyable match since Simon’s previous one, when he recovered from 1/5 down in the final set against Paolo Lorenzi. Larry Ellison quickly announced a counselling hotline for the few attendees who’d survived watching both. Simon next faces Kevin Anderson. Anyone who survives that one gets a free t-shirt from Ivan Dodig.

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March 10, 2013

Useful Juxtapositions

Indian Wells, Day Three

There was moment this afternoon when only one out of six seeded players had survived their opening match at the Indian Wells Masters. Owing to the generous allocation of byes these first matches took place in the second round of the draw and on the third day of play. Stanislas Wawrinka was that lone seed. Ferrer IW 2013 -1He beat the popularly-reviled qualifier Wayne Odesnik, and even then was obliged to recover from a set down. The other five seeds were not so fortunate, although I’d be lying if I said many of losses felt like upsets, although in some cases the extravagance of the defeat was startling.

Most of the seeds who’d lost were lower seeds – the exception was David Ferrer – who in earlier decades wouldn’t have been seeded at all. The difference between the No.40 ranked player in the world and the No.25 isn’t necessarily all that wide, especially when the present form of the players is taken into account. A victory by the former over the latter hardly constitutes an upset in any meaningful sense. There’s always a considerable amount of movement into and out of the top thirty-two: some have found their level, but mostly players are passing through in either direction.

Having said all that, it was still a shock when Jarkko Nieminen allowed Fernando Verdasco just one game. Verdasco, by his own admission, hasn’t been practicing much lately, due to injury and an ongoing commitment to post photos of himself to social media. As preparation for the year’s first Masters it proved less than ideal. Nieminen later revealed that the ideal preparation was in fact watching Metallica’s Quebec concert on DVD.

Philipp Kohlschreiber later attempted to overcome an injury-riddled preparation by doing the same, but was undone when his coach brought him ‘Mr Sandman’ rather than ‘Enter Sandman’. Had I but known, I would have advised him to split the difference. It was a surprise that Kohlschreiber showed up at all. Had the tournament been played two weeks ago – and with no television coverage to say otherwise it might well have been – the German would have been playing on crutches. This is notoriously difficult to manage.

It was also a surprise Michael Llodra turned up, after last year’s labyrinthine scheme to enhance Franco-Chinese relations so publicly unravelled upon encountering its first snarl. After his later offer to repair the damage sexually was rebuffed, he subsequently claimed he wouldn’t return in 2013. He did, but didn’t bother entering the doubles, which tells you how serious his commitment was. Having seen off a qualifier in the first round, he failed to front for the second against Milos Raonic. Hewitt IW 2013 -1The Canadian is through to the third round without once stepping on to court. Meanwhile Mikhail Youzhny’s appalling early-season form continued with a loss to Leonardo Mayer. He’s clinging to a top thirty spot.

John Isner reached the final at Indian Wells last year. By losing today, he will therefore shed 590 points, and his ranking will tumble into the mid-twenties. This means that Sam Querrey automatically becomes the highest ranked US male player for the first time, although if Querrey fails to win his opening match tomorrow he will remain stranded on No.21. This will in turn leave the USA with no male players ranked inside the top twenty for the first time ever. Australia, as ever perched on the leading edge of failure, of course reached this milestone some years ago. We haven’t had a man ranked in the top twenty since February 2010. He was Lleyton Hewitt, who of course defeated Isner today.

It was Hewitt’s first second round victory at Masters level in nearly four years, and he was rightly excited, although even he found it hard to match Andrew Castle’s ecstasy on his behalf. This match ran concurrently with the one between Jerzy Janowicz and David Nalbandian. By harnessing the miracle of technology I was able to watch both. It was instructive. Nalbandian and Hewitt are of similar vintage, which constituted an invitation to reminiscence the Sky Sports commentary team proved unable to resist. Consequently we heard a lot about Wimbledon 2002, and all other great things Hewitt did over a decade ago.

Watching Isner and Janowicz play more or less side-by-side was even more revealing. Based on their technical and athletic prowess, you would never guess that only an inch separates their respective heights. Isner is six-foot-nine, Janowicz is six-eight. Isner lumbers about the court in that way exceptionally tall tennis players are traditionally wont to do. Hewitt had a superb day on return, often blocking back the American’s monstrous first serve to within a foot of his baseline, causing Isner to backpedal furiously. From that moment, once it became a game of baseline attrition, Hewitt’s superiority was evident. Isner’s serve is a potent weapon, but unless he is launching full-blooded forehands and not missing, it’s also his only weapon. Once it is blunted he can look grow forlorn.

Janowicz, like Kevin Anderson, looks more like the future: very tall men who move as though they’re much smaller, and who are accomplished from the baseline. Janowicz IW 2013 -1Janowicz out-rallied the typically intriguing and sadly underprepared Nalbandian for large parts of their match. Anderson had earlier done the same to Ferrer, inflicting the Spaniard’s traditional early-round defeat at this venue.

Some hours later I achieved a similarly useful juxtaposition when Rafael Nadal and Ryan Harrison took the court while Richard Gasquet and Bernard Tomic were finishing off their match. Nadal and Gasquet have of course been playing each other for years, since before they were juniors, although one struggles to uncover many more revealing points of comparison than that. It’s not as though they’ve contrived to maintain much of a rivalry on the main tour. Nonetheless, today they represented difficult but realistic opportunities for young men supposedly on the make. This was Nadal’s first hardcourt match in 346 days.

Tomic and Harrison are the youngest players in the top hundred, and must have seen these matches as an opportunity to utter a bold statement. Both pushed hard for a set against their senior opponents, recovering an early break to force a tiebreak. Both put together poor tiebreaks, in which they were completely outclassed, and then managed to continue this trend through a second set blowout. Both lost 7/6 6/2, and while it was commendable that neither man ever gave up – a bold new development for Tomic – it was deflating to see just how acquiescent they became as the end drew nigh. Tomic saved five match points, but this was mostly achieved with mordantly resigned free-swinging.

Aside from Ferrer, the highest seed to lose today was No.9 Janko Tipsarevic, whose 2013 is making Youzhny’s seem accomplished by comparison. He lost two and zero to the spectacularly resurgent Ernests Gulbis. Tipsarevic didn’t seem injured, or even fatigued. He just looked outplayed, which is an undesirable way for a top ten player to look. It was Gulbis’ twelfth consecutive victory.

The highest seed to win was the second seed and defending champion Roger Federer, who thrashed Denis Istomin in 58 minutes, with the kind of performance that compels one to wonder how Federer has failed to win a tournament since last year’s Cincinnati Masters. The answer is that he hasn’t been playing quite like he did today. He was dangerously sharp, though he might still be relieved to face Ivan Dodig in the third round, since he was drawn to face the twenty-eighth seeded Julien Benneteau. Benneteau lost: being a seed, I suppose this could be called an upset. Or not.

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March 8, 2013

Site Unseen

IW-Out-Courts-2013-1Indian Wells television coverage doesn’t begin until tomorrow, so there is little to say for those of us stranded on the far side of the planet.  Saturday will therefore mark the point at which there will something worth writing beyond a wretched summary of the live scores and results everyone can see for themselves.

In case you’ve missed it, my article about the lack of early round coverage can be found on Tennis Grandstand. Tomorrow it will stop seeming quite so relevant, at least until Miami in a few weeks time. So enjoy it while you can.

I’ll be back in the next few days with a piece about some tennis that I’ve actually been able to watch. At least, that is my plan. Our household celebrates two birthdays in coming days, and there’s no telling how it will go.

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March 4, 2013

Dramatic Reenactments

There were three ATP tour events concluded at various points this weekend. Individually they demonstrated certain principles in their own right, while collectively they offered yet more unnecessary proof that not all tennis events are created equal. Yesterday Novak Djokovic won his 36th title on a slick outdoor hardcourt in Dubai. A few hours later Rafael Nadal won his 52nd title on an Acapulco clay court that was mainly remarkable for being littered with the remains of David Ferrer. Both of these finals were enhanced by rambunctious capacity crowds. Meanwhile Ernests Gulbis has just claimed his third career title in Delray Beach, which surpassed itself by taking the unusual measure of not allowing any spectators in.

REUTERS/Ahmed Jadallah

Dubai, Final

(1) Djokovic d. (3) Berdych, 7/5 6/3

If I can be candid for a moment – always a clear admission that a writer is being evasive elsewhere – finding new and interesting things to say about Djokovic winning tennis tournaments is not getting any easier. One must search in ever-more obscure nooks for original insights. A disinclination to repeat oneself can be crippling (which is presumably why so few tennis writers bother with such a stricture). Already my search parties are roaming into remote districts, while a team of bright young interns scours the historical record, on the lookout for abstruse references I might appropriate. So far their toils have proved fruitless. What more is there to say?

The alternative, once it becomes apparent that nothing new can be said, is to append this latest victory to all the others, and subsequently churn out some numbers, and see where we go from there.

It was Djokovic’s fourth title at this event, meaning his armada of Dubai silverware almost rivals Federer’s, which opens up some interesting dramatic possibilities. At the present rate of accrual they’ll one day be able to recreate some of the more stirring encounters from the Hornblower novels, if not the Battle of Trafalgar. Indeed, after a weekend watching my daughter adroitly repurpose any object not nailed down into a Harry Potter prop, it occurs to me that the multifariousness of tennis trophies enables the more successful players to stage fairly elaborate recreations. Or, if not them, their offspring: I imagine Federer’s twins will one day invade his trophy room in search of useful props. Any of the World Tour Finals trophies would serve as a decent Goblet of Fire – they’ll need to remove those naff ribbons, and perhaps affix them to their bicycle handles – while Stockholm’s silverware would make a perfect doomsday device for Dr. No. The Dubai runner-up dagger would be excellent for The Golden Child. Mikhail Youzhny is your man if you want to borrow one of those.

But back to the numbers. It is also Djokovic’s eleventh straight victory over Tomas Berdych. Sadly, it was no more remarkable than the recent wins in Melbourne, London or Shanghai, all of which occurred on hardcourts, and none of which saw the world number one attain an unassailable peak. Berdych fought all his considerable worth, and repeatedly forced Djokovic to defend. Unfortunately Djokovic is the best defender in the sport, and that is the aspect of his game that seems immune to breaking down. You cannot allow Djokovic to attack, but obliging him to defend is merely to play into his hands. It seems an insoluble problem. It must seem that way to Berdych.

After the Shanghai semifinal loss Berdych had sounded resigned that even with his powerful (if limited) arsenal there was simply no way to break down or through the Serb. The increased speed of the Dubai surface enabled a few more of his shots to penetrate, as did a courageous early commitment to launching his backhand up the line, and he was characteristically more assertive than the similarly proportioned Juan Martin del Potro had been in the semifinal. But it wasn’t enough, and Berdych’s focus typically warped and buckled under compression. Some have sought to isolate the result in a few missed shots from the third seed – a simple forehand volley, a botched overhead – but that’s being overly reductive. I don’t see that the outcome would have been materially altered had the Czech made those shots. There were decisive moments for Djokovic as well. The difference is that he gains greater clarity when pressed, not less. It helps that he is generally more careful to make the key moments break points on his opponent’s serve rather than his own.

The rest of Djokovic’s numbers are no less impressive, for all that each merely represents an incremental increase on whatever it was on Saturday. He has now won eighteen consecutive matches, dating back to the Paris Indoors (his loss there remains his only one since the US Open final). He has also won thirteen consecutive matches against the current top eight, including every single member of the elite besides Nadal, who he hasn’t faced. Perhaps the numbers are enough. They are, after all, astonishing.

Nadal Acapulco 2013 -7

Acapulco

(2) Nadal d. (1) Ferrer, 6/0 /62

Had Djokovic faced Nadal in Acapulco a few hours later it might have been a different story, although that is debatable. He certainly would have provided a sterner test than Ferrer did. However, the story wasn’t that Nadal defeated Ferrer. The real story, or stories – there are two – is that so many people believed Ferrer would win, and that his defeat was of a severity and thoroughness hardly glimpsed since the Romans sacked Carthage.

The word heading into the Acapulco semifinals was that this was Nicolas Almagro’s big chance. If he couldn’t beat Nadal now, a mere three tournaments into Nadal’s allegedly long-term comeback, then he never will. With these conditions in place, I am now satisfied that he never will. As for the semi, so for the final: this was Ferrer’s ideal opportunity to end a losing streak to Nadal on clay stretching back nine years. He won two games, which was at least twice as many as he deserved.

At the risk of sounding boastful, not to say prescient after the fact, I have insisted from the beginning that Nadal would commence winning tournaments from the outset. I was less surprised than exhausted when this turned out not to be the prevailing opinion. There has been endless talk about how hard it is to come straight back into competitive match-play. Many people point to del Potro. I would respond by pointing to Nadal, and then pointing out that he isn’t del Potro, and that he is furthermore one of the greatest clay court players ever, contesting a series of small tournaments through South and Central America. People point to the outrageous upset to Horacio Zeballos in Vina del Mar, apparently forgetting that it was an outrageous upset, and these by definition do not reflect the norm.

The idea that Nadal was the underdog in this final was perhaps the most fantastical of all. Ferrer had been poor in seeing off Fabio Fognini in his semifinal, but even if he’d been playing well I doubt whether it would have enabled him to do more than challenge for a set or two, much like last year’s Barcelona final. A head-to-head record this lopsided doesn’t come about by accident, and it has little to do with luck. Also bear in mind that their last match was the semifinal at the French Open in 2012, in which Ferrer claimed just five games. He might conceivably have reached five games in Acapulco had it been best of nine sets. I confess that for all I’d expected a Nadal victory I hadn’t expect it to be this comprehensive, not to say merciless. But nor did Scipio Africanus ease up once his legion had broken the gates.

At the start of last year I suggested that Ferrer had hit upon a sound method of pushing Nadal, which was to probe at his backhand until it yielded an error or a short ball. It was a tactic employed to great effect by Djokovic in 2011, as well as by Murray in Tokyo that season, and by Federer in Indian Wells a year ago. If the Acapulco final bears analysis on a technical level, that is probably the detail that matters: Nadal’s backhand was impregnable, which it often is, and lethal, which is rarely the case. Normally on clay this doesn’t matter too much, since Nadal’s preternatural footwork allows him to scoot around his forehand. Quick as he is, though, this tendency does open up his forehand wing for any opponent willing to go hard cross court (Djokovic). Today, however, he remained content to use his backhand, and he used it to bludgeon Ferrer into the dirt. Denied anywhere safe to go, Ferrer’s approach grew fragmented and entirely ineffectual.

After Scipio raised Carthage he salted the land, so that it was rendered unusable for generations. Prouder men than Ferrer have been dismantled less thoroughly, and never recovered. One wonders where Ferrer goes from here, though I suspect that he’ll be fine, in his way. He’ll simply return to self-assigned task, which is to beat those ranked below him. I’m not the only one to have decried the increasing consistency with which he capitulates to those above him (regardless of ranking, this includes Nadal), but I’m beginning to suspect he doesn’t let it affect him that much – getting thrashed is simply something he has to get through. It’s likely to be painful, but at least it’s quick. Best get it over with, and move on. Afterwards his only explanation was exhaustion.

Nadal was afterwards overcome, shedding tears into his towel. I’m not a qualified mind-reader – more a dabbler – but I suspect this title meant more to him than Sao Paulo did. I don’t know whether his overwhelming feeling was relief or pride. But I’m sure they were both present, just as I’m sure both gave way to pure delight when he was given an oversized sombrero and a large silver pear-like fruit, which I’m reliably informed is called a guaje. Whatever it is, he now has two of them, and can join Djokovic and Federer’s dramatic reenactment society, although I’m struggling to imagine which movie they’ll recreate. Pear Harbor?

Gulbis Delray 2013 -4Delray Beach, Final

(Q) Gulbis d. Roger-Vasselin, 7/6 6/3

Nonetheless, it was Ernests Gulbis who won Saturday’s most interesting match; a jaggedly-contoured semifinal with Tommy Haas, in which both men both men repeatedly scaled the peaks of quality only to hurl themselves into the surrounding abyss, thence to recommence the slow climb. Throw in an exploding helicopter and it was basically Cliffhanger. Haas was of course the grizzled veteran once incarnated by Sylvester Stallone, and as the third set wore on, it seemed inevitable that he’d prevail. Like John Lithgow, the affably skittish Gulbis was miscast as the villain of the piece, and in a surprise twist redeemed himself via a sequence of heroic holds, and a quite magnificent final tiebreaker.

It was Gulbis’ seventh straight victory – having pushed through qualifying – which predictably inspired some to declare that he’d won enough matches in a row to claim a theoretical Slam, assuming one was to be staged as a best-of-three set event in Delray Beach for the benefit of about two dozen spectators. For the record, a theoretical Slam is not the same as a real one. Still, it was a harrowing slog: The Road, reimagined as Latvian vaudeville.

He defeated Edouard Roger-Vasselin in the final, handily but for a stumble as he endeavoured to serve out the first set. It was the first time two players ranked outside the top hundred had contested a tour level final since 2007. Gulbis moves to a perfect 3-0 in finals, with two of those coming at this event. He was characteristically forward in praising the place afterwards: ‘It’s my favourite tournament. It’s the only tournament in the world I am winning.’ The local chamber of commerce might want to enlist him as a cheerleader.

Then again, perhaps not. That was probably Gulbis’ least controversial utterance of the week. He has, admittedly and typically, provided tremendous value, especially when it came to revealing his latest source of motivation: ‘I was really getting pissed to see who’s in the top 100. There are some guys who I don’t know who they are. Some guys, I’m sorry, with respect — they can’t play tennis.’ His Delray Beach title propels him back among their ranks, landing him on No.67. He’ll still have to qualify for Indian Wells this week, meaning that, for the time being, he’s still obliged to toil away on the outer courts with more of those allegedly hapless nobodies he refuses to regard as his peers.

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