Roger Federer: Close to Perfection At Wimbledon

In the first round, against an inspired Yen-Hsun Lu, Federer managed “just” 10 aces in a slightly longer match. By this third round match, he is up to 15 and, even more telling, tops out at 131 mph.

Where his serve leads, the rest of the Federer weaponry follows. It gives him time and energy, and it applies pressure and intent. Thus far, it is another part of Federer that comes pretty close to perfection.

The outcome of this match, of course, never looks in doubt. There is almost a swagger in Federer’s broad shoulders and swinging walk that defy defeat. And the crowd laps it up like the richest cream. The Centre Court rises as one in a standing ovation worthy of the final: half admiration, half adoration.

So to day two, Friday, near-perfect Centre Court seats won, months ago, through the ballot. But again, the perfection takes me by the throat more than two hours earlier, this time at Court 9.

It could not be a greater contrast from Wednesday. Standing hoards crowd against an exposed expanse of grass, and there is a hint of panic amongst the security staff. Again though, a calm if more serious Federer focuses on the job in hand.

And through the camera lens, the Botticelli perfection of face, colour and proportion come into sharp focus.

Today there is no cap and no bandanna. Nor is there strong sun and shadow. Everything is simpler and softer: boyish loose hair, honey skin, plain white clothing. He looks barely 20.

As the practice winds down, the crowd winds up, chairs go flying, children are thrust forward by parents demanding photo opportunities. The still point at the centre of the cyclone is, as ever, exuding gentleness towards the proffered children, signing—this time in silence—and eventually seeking escape amidst the now frantic security guards.

The perfect photo shoot is replaced by the perfect Wimbledon experience, with seats just rows back from the net, opposite the umpire’s chair. The clouds part to drench Centre Court in sunshine. Then, two players offer up a quality of tennis that extends to an audience-pleasing four sets.

It begins at a vicious pace that is maintained through to the end. Rallies of such intensity grow in number as the match moves from what seems a predictable Federer win to a spirited and classy challenge from Philipp Kohlschreiber.

Where the winning shot of a point garnered gasps on Wednesday, four, five or six shots in succession draw shocked sighs as each player pounds the ball ever harder, faster, lower and deeper to the other. Throw in volley exchanges, daring drop shots, defensive squash shots and the crowd becomes ecstatic.

But no matter how well Kohlschreiber attacks, defends and serves, he cannot dominate. Even his winning of the third set tie break seems an aberration, the result of Federer practising a few new plays, getting wound up by a succession of poor line calls, or thrown by two heavy falls.

Inevitably, Federer throws the turbo switch and reels off the fourth set in under half an hour.

And which shot from the Federer artillery comes closest to perfection this time? Without question, the backhand.

Pounded at by Kohlschreiber—is there now a player who doesn’t target Federer’s perceived weakness?—it came back with whispering slice time and again, executed to such perfection that defense turns into attack on the greasy grass.

Federer opens his chest to deliver backhand drives across court and down the line, and for good measure, thows in a number of looping topspin backhands that drop like stones on the far lines. He may have tried out the odd double-hander in practice, but he has no need of such crude ball punching on court.

This piece opened with the assertion that Federer is playing some of his best tennis in two years. To prove the point, Federer’s victory over Kohlschreiber takes him to his longest winning streak—15 matches in a row—since the summer of 2007. And this is the man who, just months ago, many described as being in serial decline.

If Federer goes on to win the Wimbledon title next week, he will beat his own winning streak of 18. Perhaps that would make his tennis closer to perfection than it’s ever been.

From where I’ve been sitting, it’s already as close to perfection as I could ever wish.

 

The visual companion piece to this is at

http://bleacherreport.com/articles/211144-close-to-perfection-part-2-a-portrait-of-roger-federer-at-wimbledon

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