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January 31, 2006
A glimpse at the real Roger Federer
By Rohit Brijnath, The Hindu
Before anything else, before the thrill of victory
slowly seeps into the bones, before contemplating his new place in
history's scorebook, when the last point is won the predominant feeling
that overcomes the champion is relief. It is done, he thinks.
And then, often, the athlete will simply let
himself go, allow his emotions so long carefully imprisoned to break
free, a sort of permission slip to the self that now, finally, it is ok
to lose control.
Michael Jordan grasped his first NBA Trophy to
himself like he might a child and wept. Tiger Woods fell into his
father's arms on winning the Masters. Diego Maradona blubbered on his
1986 World Cup victory.
And on Sunday night, as extravagant with
emotion as he usually is with shot-making, Roger Federer struggled to
contain his tears after winning the Australian Open. It was the only
battle he beautifully lost all fortnight.
It is fashionable occasionally to see Federer
not as a person, but as some elegantly engineered robot. My God, it was
noted, during his struggles through the tournament, Roger sweats, as if
his insides are normally air-conditioned.
Emotional ride
But late in the tournament he sometimes lost
his composure, erratic and irritated, appearing almost vulnerable, and
it was revealing. For some this was the imperfect Federer, but perhaps
it was a glimpse at the real Federer, momentarily unshackled from his
impeccable control.
Listen up, he was saying, I may look composed
mostly, but I rage within. Before the tournament began he admitted
there are days when tennis is hard labour for him, but we laughed it
off. His ease has disguised his effort and it pains him. He is artist
yes, but pugilist too.
This should be evident. Thrice now in Grand Slam finals, Andy Roddick at Wimbledon 2004, Agassi at the U.S. Open last
year, Baghdatis on Sunday, players have confronted him with audacious
shot-making, dominated sets, nudged at his self-belief, yet Federer has
not wilted.
"I was struggling so much to hold my serve,"
he said after Sunday's final. "I was sweating like crazy. I thought,
`Well, if this is going to continue, I'll probably lose and (only) a
miracle is going to save me.'" But he, once a hothead, has trained
himself to stay calmest amidst everyone else's storm of shots, alerting
the clear-thinking warrior within him.
Striking similarities
In this he bears resemblance to Sampras, and
not only there; indeed, so compelling are the similarities between him
and the American, that Federer on Sunday called it "scary."
Born four days and 10 years apart, at exactly
this time when 24, Sampras had seven Grand Slams, so does Federer;
Sampras had won two Masters, so has Federer, the American had been the
first since Laver to win three Slams in a row, now so has Federer,
Sampras had 36 titles, Federer has 35.
Men labour a lifetime to win one Slam, for as
Federer said "it is so hard to do." Especially for him, for so
accomplished he has become that we believe he carries no fear, nor owns
any doubt. He is not allowed, he said, to be sick. He must always be
"physically strong" and "mentally tough." Every day, even as 127
opponents gang up with a solitary idea: beating him.
Match after match, he must manage nerve, stir
desire, swallow pressure, staying normal in an abnormal environment and
somehow willing himself to keep control.
Then he wins, and Rod Laver is shaking his
hand, and the trophy within his grasp. Then it is all too much. Then he
says, as if his tears didn't speak enough as it is: "I'm also just
human."
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