Bidding Adieu to Marat Safin

(Photo by Stephen Dunn/Getty Images)

I know I must be the nth person writing an article based on this topic today, but I simply had to. I had to say goodbye to one of my favourite tennis players—Marat Safin.

His loss to Jurgen Melzer yesterday marked the end of Marat's grand slam dreams. How ironic is the fact that he lost in the first round of the tournament which gave him his his first taste of tennis glory?

In my opinion if there was anybody out there who had the raw talent to give Roger Federer sleepless nights, it was Marat Safin. There was ample evidence to this claim when Marat started out—demolishing Pete Sampras to win the US Open nine years ago.  The tennis world sat up, and aficionados were quick to crown him the successor to Pistol Pete. But all didn't go according to plan.  

A lot of people would say “let’s not lose perspective here”—Marat did have a glittering career—two grand slams titles are a big deal. Besides that being the world number one, winning multiple ATP titles and leading his country to Davis Cup glory are extremely significant achievements in a tennis player’s life.

Every tennis player would like to taste the kind of success Marat basked in. Very true. And add to it the fact that he has always managed to be himself irrespective of the highs and lows of his tennis; Marat's career certainly seems enviable. 

Yet the questions persist—what if he had realised his true potential? Could he have been in the tennis hall of fame, with the McEnroes and Bjorgs, with seven or 10 grand slam titles?

Maybe the old adage is true for people like Marat. Maybe the brighter they burn the quicker they burn out. Maybe he never had it in him to have a sustained, successful and conventional tennis career like Federer. Maybe he would have lost half of his charisma if he did.

If there was one thing which was predictable with Marat, it was his unpredictability. The kind of unpredictability which makes you wonder in awe when he hits a backhand to beat a top player one day, and the next day gets beaten by a player like me.

Can anyone imagine Marat without this aura of unpredictability? I can’t.

One thing became increasingly clear as his career unfolded—only Marat Safin could beat Marat Safin. The days he conquered his mental demons he freed himself up to play up some truly sensational tennis. Then again on the other days he would be in throes of desperation, a fallen hero without his powers, struggling to string a couple of points together.

Over the years Marat has entertained hordes of fans, who thronged in their thousands to see him; Marat the player, Marat the bona fide tennis star, Marat the act. Unfortunately or fortunately the lines between the many avatars of Marat Safin got blurred. He became part athlete, part entertainer.

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