Bleacher Report - Articles by antiMatter

The Interpretation of Tennis: Rafael Nadal's Ruthless Self-Test

antiMatter — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 14:15:39 -0500

The colosseum is daubed in red. The atmosphere flamboyant. It is time for the battle to begin. The two opponents take position on either side.

One of them, the more muscular one, attempts to pulls a lever at his side of the battlefield. It seems very cumbersome, and though every other competitor knows its existence, no one ever tries a hand at it.

For they know what it is that it takes to pull it all the way. The effort expended at it is just not worth it. It most probably is going to be a lost cause, and the physical and mental tiredness accrued on attempting to move that heavy lever is not going to do any good to them—it is not going to win them anything.

The muscular one keeps heaving at it. He is unable to move it at first, but he then lets out a war cry, and in one painful convulsion of the body, his left arm breaks loose and pulls the lever far above his head.

On the other half of the battlefield, the earth starts shaking. It finally cracks open, and a yellow orb of fire seems to burst out of it towards the skies at an angle, threatening to pass right through the opponent's head.

The most muscular man in men's tennis (perhaps "former" prefixed) takes tennis to mean much more than probably any other player who has wielded a racquet.

All aspects of his game seem to point at a belief in tennis, much like a belief in God and religion.

For what is it that forces a man to keep running after lost causes, at 40-0 down on the opponent's serve even when he is a break up? Isn't it rational that a point in a lost game is a no-point? If it is not belief, what is it?

Rafael Nadal runs—always. He is cursed to do it—to pursue dead ends. He is cursed to keep fighting the impossible.

Each stroke that Nadal hits is a painful one. The only question is whether it is more so for him or the opponent.

He virtually works himself onto the ball. The ball stays in contact with the racquet for longer than in the case of most players, absorbing more of the movement of the racquet face on it.

Following every stroke is a cry that could be given mixed connotations. A cry of triumph over failure or of pain?

The forehand hooks at the last moment, trying to impart whatever the body has left in it in the form of topspin and altitude. Perhaps in an attempt to pull the ball up at the net that is nearer and then bring it down before it probably goes out of the baseline due to an improbable error of judgment.

When the received strokes become flatter and pacier, he moves back, away from the baseline to give himself more time. What if he doesn't have enough time to reply properly and hits out?

Yes, it is a losing game on hard courts. But though he might lose, the opponent has to win the match by earning points the hard way. He is going to give himself everything so that he hits the fewest number of balls out. He should not commit mistakes.

He is not going to lose because of something he did. It has to be because of something the opponent does.

His body might give up, but it shall forever remain a slave to his will.

Rafael Nadal in more ways than one uses tennis to test his character: "If I lose in the fifth by a heavy margin, it means I am not mentally tough, no?"

He makes sure he plays well within his comfort zone at all points of time. It is a game built on certainty and self-calibration. When he plays, he wants to try to hit only what he can hit, not just anything he might want to. There is not even a sign of attempt at something unpractised.

Because of this approach, he needs to put in a lot of work on his strokes, to expand that comfort zone to include more scenarios that could happen on a tennis court.

This would mean that he would need more matches and practice under his belt to keep going. A break in that routine and you would see a dry patch, as is now seen.

Such a reluctance to take anything that would in the remotest of imaginations be a risk comes with its bag of negatives. The level of play and concentration has to be at a high level throughout. Thus, though there would be moments where the opponent outplays him, he would be there to take the chance when the opponent's level drops off a bit.

On the other hand, since this attitude of stroke play is assisted by an almost unending ability and readiness to keep running, the going could get tough for the opponent when he is on the go. No mistakes, no let offs. This surely is the extremity of defensive attitude.

When he is in form, you might feel that you are playing a wall with a small number of holes, each the size of a tennis ball, right through which you have to hit to get a point. Nothing would bounce back from the hole-less part of the wall that is too long, and neither can you out-hit the wall.

When he is playing even better, you might get the feeling that the holes are moving too.

He kept pulling at the lever, not considering physical fatigue. He kept pulling like his life depended on it.

He started overcoming his opponents one after the other. They tried in various ways to overcome his heart and body. But whatever they had, it couldn't equal these qualities.

And so, due to greater exertion that he subjected his body to and the lesser exertion that his opponents subjected theirs too, his body started giving up over time. The spirit was willing, but not the flesh.

But now that Rafael has rested up, let's hope to hear more of those battle cries next year—not in pain, but in triumph.

Pete Sampras: The Ace, The Slam Dunk, and The Running Forehand

antiMatter — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 14:39:22 -0500

What the Mind Cooks Up

There are moments in life of great inspiration, positive or negative, when one feels an unstoppable surge of energy.

The mind becomes clearer, the senses become sharper, thoughts race at break-neck speed, and the hands and legs agree to whatever whims and fancies the head concocts.

Yes, when one is literally charged up.

Lots of different things can lead to such a state, from rock music to seeing a ball sitting up to be hit, to nationalism to...well, a lot of things.

In tennis, there is one man whose game spoke of the existence of such an inspiration behind its execution every single time—the Pistol.

Always the speeding locomotive, he never seemed to run out of gas when "on," other than when that genetic disorder put him to temporary sleep. If there were collapsed bridges on the way, they would be jumped over.

There are three specific shots from the Pistol's racquet that cannot go unnoticed not just because of the sheer technique and athleticism, but also due to the sheer adrenaline it packed.

A Tennis Court In the Middle of Nowhere

He is 15-40 down. But he seems pretty cool about it. The laziness of the body language almost indicates a tendency to give the match up and go home.

That is to a casual first time observer.

Others know what is going to happen. He takes stand, points the racquet at his opponent like a canon, shakes it subtly, then pulls back, and in one simple motion, there is a missile down the centre—pace, power, placement.

The ball zips past the opponent on the other side, who looks like a kid shaken out of his deep sleep rudely by his drunken father. The feeling starts with a sense of incredulity, then slowly turns into a realisation of how unfair the whole thing is. A sense of inevitability sets in.

The ball sheaves through the air and hits the back-drop with a booming reverberating sound that echoes around the indoor stadium for a couple of seconds. The message is sent.

The opponent gets the first taste of the ammunition. Doesn't taste so good.

30-40. There is still one break-point. The first serve is a fault. He delivers a second one a little bit slow, and decides to stay back. A rally ensues.

Pete's weaker wing is repeatedly aimed at. The opponent has the feeling that with each passing stroke he is nearing that elusive break of serve. First, Pete returns from the side-line, then from between the tram-lines and now he has been pushed beyond them.

This is the right time to go for a forehand to the other side and seal the deal since the backhands have been getting progressively weaker and aimed more towards the middle of the court.

A full-blooded inside-in drive guided towards the corner. But, like a predator that was looking for the right moment, the Pistol starts on the dead-run matching the speed of a bullet he could have fired.

Starting out with bursts of long steps, almost leaping over the ground, he reaches the ball, somehow. Still, no one is convinced that the run was worth anything; he will still have to hit it at full stretch, and you normally just prod the ball back when you are in such a position.

The next thing people remember is the ball going back at a wider angle cross-court percing the furthest corner of the service box.

The opponent just blinks. The crowd just falls silent for a moment, not breathing. There is just a nod of the head to assure the assembled people that it is all true.

Deuce. And to add to the woes, a nasty first serve. But the opponent has the strategy ready. He knows the Pistol is going to rush towards the net. He takes the serve from fifteen feet behind the baseline, but powers a top-spin lob cross-court.

Meanwhile, Pete was leaping towards the middle of the net. He was on the service line when the ball has reached the service box on the other side of the net. The trajectory of the man and the ball seemed to suggest only one outcome—point lost.

The trajectory is changed in the blink of an eye, and he starts running sideways and at the exact moment, he leaps into the air. The hind-legs bend and following the trunk faithfully, and the hands raised to deliver an inhuman blow, the racquet looks like an axe.

With perfect timing, the two projectiles meet. The missile is intercepted in an explosive blow of downward movement of the racquet head. The ball accelerates towards the ground into the service box.

The ball boys draw back a little, expecting something to happen when the supersonic sphere hit the ground. The ball hits the ground without any noise whatsoever, and rockets into the air well over the head of the pair of drooping shoulders on the other side of the net.

Advantage Pistol.

Such moments can be easily picked from the many campaigns Pete has had in his decorated career. Think Youtube .

Rafael Nadal On the Defensive

antiMatter — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 01:51:02 -0500

Whether a player plays defense or attack is a question of belief.

Pete Sampras believed in his serve to such an extend that he attempted breaking only once per set at all. He knew that his hold-game was unshakable. It also explains why he went for second service aces when break-points down.

The Pistol might go down in history as the best first-strike player in tennis yet. Then there are the opposite of the Pistol. Those who believe in their consistency—ability to churn out groundie after groundie, and in their ability to retrieve balls.

Among these there will be quite a few who mentally or physically construct their points, instead of being just totally passive. Like Rafael Nadal, and Andy Murray.

But each player has some breaking point. Beyond that threshold, he might not have enough with on the stroke received of what he needs to construct anything. It might just allow him enough to be able to run down and retrieve the ball. He turns into the other kind of passive defenders.

For Nadal, what he needs is time , and that threshold is breached when the pace, depth and height of the ball after bounce fall beyond some limits. Among defenders Nadal is not one who “feeds” off pace. He is not symbiotic.

Of course Rafael and his uncle Antony knew this. Which is why they were turning him into a better first-striker slowly but surely.

This was really possible in Nadal’s case, and still is. Rafael generates his own pace, just like an offensive baseliner does, though not anything like a Del-Potro because he mixes it up with a lot of spin. The only matter remaining was to correct the nature of his strokes—to direct the pace to earn points for him, rather than fatigue the opponent into submission.

He developed a flatter inside-out fore-hand that zips across more than loops into the court due to top-spin, started stepping into the court a bit more instead of running all over the place, developing the court-position required for aggression, and started pulling the trigger with his backhand down the line.

He was learning and learning very fast. He won the Wimbledon, the Olympic medal and the Australian Open—all considered to be foreign surfaces to him. He then also went on to put in his best performance in the season-beginning hard court season. He was adapting to faster courts very well.

Rafael’s motto has been always the same—improve as a tennis player and as a person with each passing day. It all seemed in place and working for him for quite a while.

But time would tell that he had left out one parameter from his equation—the fitness. His body—his knees—were at the receiving end of all the ferocious hard-work. He had to take a sabbatical.

A couple of months without tennis, unable to defend his Wimbledon crown, he returned to action in August. By this time a few players who were first-strikers by nature, of the style of Gonzales, had matured—Juan Martin Del Potro, Robin Soderling, Marin Cilic, who also stand much taller than Gonzo.

And Rafael seemed to have forgotten a bit during his leave–of-absence-due-to-medical-reasons, of all that he had learnt that won him the faster Grand Slams. He has fallen to precisely the three players mentioned above since in addition to the “allowable” defeats to Djokovic and Davydenko who is in the form of his life right now.

Apart from Cilic who he had never played earlier, Nadal has had a telling head-to-head against the other two, especially against Juan Martin, who he had tamed on fast-synthetic and slow-natural surfaces earlier, and who is now reversing the head to head.

He is dropping back on the court instead of stepping in. He is using top-spin to achieve depth and finding that the spin only grips the air during this time of the year, and not the earth. He is running like a rabbit finally losing the point anyway.

He is playing clay-court tennis on hard-courts, which plays especially well to a tall-first striker’s strength if the execution is not absolutely clinical.

For the casual tennis-fan however the most important thing is that he has stopped winning.

Questions are being raised as well as concerns about Rafael’s future. One cannot of course give an answer categorically since there is no real rule that lets one tell what it is that is at play. But it is second nature to us to attempt to find answers where there aren’t any.

For one, Rafa’s programme of conversion to a first-striker got rudely interrupted. He needs to go back and revise those lessons a bit—most importantly to generate depth off pace rather than using spin, and to play with lesser set-up stepping into the court.

The US Hard Court season never has looked good for the Spaniard. It is just that the expectations of the tennis-following populace increased beyond reason after he created such a huge lead at the top in the beginning of the year.

People started assuming that the only reason for his failures in the past had been the blows that his body had acquired over the year. Perhaps we are being too optimistic extrapolating his improvement at the beginning of the year to the end forgetting that the man had taken a break from tennis in the meanwhile.

It seems that he has cut down his body mass resulting in an inability to create depth even when the stroke is riding on spin, and especially on the run. Some point out that Rafa’s on-the-run transition is one of his most important weapons and losing that would do him a lot of harm.

The weight reduction, it has been said, is to ease up the load on his knees. If that is indeed the case, then it might not come back on his body. Or maybe he will cut down on matches rather than weight. In any case, it is not as if only body mass can help you generate depth. He used to depend on that factor earlier, and it needs some getting-used-to since it is a recent change to his physique.

There are also concerns being raised about Rafa giving up too easily. Well, pulling off victories from multiple match-points down is what he is still doing (here he erases 5 MPs for a 2-0 loss against Nicholas Almagro and goes on to win the match, Paris Masters, 2009).

And he is still playing tight and clinging on in the final set of most matches. Probably what appears as passivity is his realization getting reflected in his body-language that he doesn’t have the game, but only the mental toughness currently with him that could possibly take him through.

Perhaps Rafael will re-learn all that he has forgotten this year. Perhaps he will be back on track by time the time for Australian Open, the prospect of a fresh season freshening his belief too. Perhaps a few wins on clay will give him back his momentum.

Or it could also be that his break has given such a big lead to the rest of the competition that he will forever lag the field.

Whatever it is, Rafael’s fans can count on him doing one thing – to keep trying to improve, to keep fighting.

The Interpretation of Tennis: Pete Sampras' Athletic Expressionism

antiMatter — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 22:13:22 -0500

It is sometimes sort of a debate, an argument, tennis is.

Just like passionate arguers who try to find weaknesses in the other’s points, players constantly probe the other’s game for loopholes. The process is never ending, as every player comes the next time armed with better arguments, capitalizing on the flaws from the previous.

People argue in many different ways. Some are patient and put up with all the harshness weathering them down in the end, others are scheming all the while and spring an irrefutable point at an unsuspecting moment, and still others are there who simply dominate despite showing all their cards to the public.

The intent to dominate normally comes with an aggressive mentality. And with aggression normally comes hot-headedness.

There was one man, who in his prime, was the most aggressive player of his time, and perhaps of all time. He was also known to be the most cool-headed player of his generation.

Against him, you always knew what was coming. You knew all his arguments. But even after months and years of analysis, you simply were unable to find a set of winning syllogisms. He simply turned up next time with the same arguments, and you simply shook your head in frustration.

Pete Sampras has the best all round game in the history of tennis, second only perhaps to Roger Federer. Despite owning such a varied game, the Pistol took a path radically different. He decided to attack.

It was as if Sampras was always trying to prove what Federer had always believed. And this need to prove always punctuated Sampras’ game.

How much he needed it was emphasized by the way he ran after that elusive ball to crack a running forehand winner, the greed with which he fired down aces, and the killer instinct with which he leaped into the air to unleash those slam dunks. All of course with an expressionless face and a somnambulistic body language.

He took all the elements of a richly varied game and stitched them together into a single attacking weapon. But there reverberated in his game, one particular aspect—the athleticism.

Yes it was distinctly visible in everything he did—the way he moved.

As he closes in on a forehand, he looks like a speeding locomotive not yet reached it’s top speed—always accelerating. You could morph Michael Jordan’s head onto his while he does that jump overhead smash, and you would be confused whether it is basketball or tennis.

The center of gravity of his physique always seemed to have a mind of it’s own, as if it was that which moved in mid-air pulling the rest of his body with it, and his legs where just hanging from the hips and moving the way they were to trick us into believing that all was normal. Indeed, the way the feet floated over the court seemed sometimes to literally suggest that he was walking on water.

But Pete’s running was not the silky smooth type. It was completely in tune with the rest of his game. To be aggressive, you need to believe in your strokes. And the strokes believed in the movement. Always moving at full speed towards a ball, if any adjustments were needed they were made in the blink of an eye, especially when moving toward the net. He was always on the right track to be in position to hit the ball.

Many a time, Pete ran in full blown strides—not with the traditional “short-steps” that help you calibrate your movement better— perhaps since he knew his running. This is exactly what would make his slam dunks fit in perfectly in an NBA game (think Youtube).

The sheer speed of his game starkly contrasted with what he did between the points—swagger from side to side around the court, shoulders dropping, the neck pretending it was not strong enough to hold the head straight up, the mouth pretending that it was too weak to hold the tongue inside.

The confident speed during the game alternated by the unsure baby-steps between the points spoke of a guy who though didn’t care to play at all, was nevertheless still racing ahead of you in stupendous fashion. It relayed the message that Sampras chose to relay to his opponent.

After his retirement, when asked whether he would make a comeback the Pistol replied that he wouldn’t come back unless he wanted to be the No.1 again.

That need to dominate—to always play to prove that he was the best—was reflected in his aggressive, dominating game.

Sampras’ interpretation of the game was one where a constant was enough to annihilate all of his opponents. But it was not a constant of an aggressive base-liner or a serve-and-volleyer. It was a multi-dimensional constant—it had all the weapons, none used for defense.

The single strongest argument in tennis was also among the most expressive ones. And most of the emotion in it was due to it’s most important component—the running.

One would be hard-pressed to find an athlete who live by the mantra “let his game speak for him” better than the Pistol. The King of Swing. The Emperor Athlete.

Tennis : A Beautiful Game, The Perfect Mix

antiMatter — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 15:17:11 -0500

At night, when I am outdoors and I look up, I see a black sky, studded with stars, and crowned by a beaming white full moon contrasting starkly with the background, whose radiance is partly interrupted by wisps of black clouds. A sort of diabolical beauty, though nothing profound, that gives me a few seconds of pleasure and a sense of awe.

Einstein might have looked at the same sky and seen relativity, and all other profound laws of physics, and thought something like, “What is so puzzling about the universe is that it is so understandable.” (Yeah, “What the hell?” is my reaction too).

It is not just true about the sky, or other such mediocre imagery. It is true about anything in life—how you look at things depends on you, your personality— and that may ultimately decide how happy you are and how much you want to live or die.

But then it works the other way around, too. What you are looking at needs to offer you something— it needs to meet you at least halfway in your attempt to seek what it is that you are trying to see in it.

It is the same with sports. A lot of things decide what you see in a particular sport— especially your level of knowledge of it, and your personality. And the more profound is the experience that you draw from it, the more it qualifies to be called beautiful.

Clara has already written a piece that delves upon the beauty that tennis reveals from the artistic perspective, and how much it meets more than half way in her attempts to see the beauty of aesthetics in it. Here, we take a different look.

Playing a sport at some level is like trying to join dots on a piece of paper. The image you get finally depends to a large extent on what you draw between the dots—how you fill up the gaps, straight lines, or curly lines—but it also depends on the dots themselves. You cannot draw beyond certain limits—for one you definitely need to pass through the dots.

You cannot also draw without them—they are there to sort of help you, to guide your imagination. You trust them to give you an enjoyable picture however it is that you join them together. The dots are placed in such a manner: smartly placed.

Yes, the dimensions of the court, the placement and height of the net, and the rules that determine how points are won or forfeited are the dots here. Too constraining and they do not let your creativity flourish. Too little and it is no longer enjoyable— it is not just an organized activity anymore.

If you look at these dots, the building blocks of any sport, it is not difficult to see why those that define tennis would rank at the top. They are beautifully placed to allow for drawing the maximum possible number of images, each one of which allow for the maximum amount of creativity and innovation from the player.

The beauty of tennis, is then traced to these metaphorical dots. They reflect the idea that is tennis, and how good they are is understood from how many different levels of abstractions they allow for, and how deep and complete each is.

A physical activity, to be sport, should be a competition that checks who among the participants is more adept at manipulating the laws of nature, as is humanly possible, to achieve some preset task. It could also check, instead of against another participant, one participant against a set mathematical standard. In short, it checks who is a better practitioner at Newtonian Mechanics.

This again can be a rudimentary check that requires an elementary body movement, or one that requires a complex maneuver. It can check a part of the body more than the other—like it can give more prominence to the the legs or it can give more prominence to the hands.

It could also give a well-proportioned distribution to the whole body. The span of the court, the height of the net and its placement, the weight(s) of the ball, the evolution of racquet technology so far, all have contributed to developing tennis into an all round game in this respect.

It is well known that this is among the few games that needs incredible footwork and equal strength and manipulation of the upper body. There could not be an athletic feat like a running forehand that needs such a great co-ordination of the hands and legs.

Players switch racquet grips from Western to Continental revealing in how many different ways gravity, and fluid mechanics can be combined to produce strokes that look as different as chalk and cheese. There cannot be a better example of Newton’s third law than the idea of the “sweet-spot.”

The different surfaces involved, offering different amounts of elasticity and friction, give different responses to a ball that hits the ground. These different surfaces again warrant a different manner of running, and a different manner of striking the ball. Don’t slip on grass, while do slide on clay. Hit with top spin on clay and it will throw an upper-cut on your opponent, hit flat on faster surfaces and it will blitz past your opponent in no time.

Surfaces, racquet grips, strings, and definitely the rules of the games themselves thus offer immense opportunities for the players to manipulate the laws of nature and still stay in the game.

The most basic action of sport in tennis—the physical layer seamlessly leads us into the next level—the tactical.

Tactics and style of play are closely intertwined. The inherent limitations of a player would make him extremely efficient in certain areas but a sitting duck in others. He could do well from the baseline, or from the net. He could do well on a particular surface and not others.

On the one hand there is your opponent’s weakness, on the other there are your strengths. How you play is of course an optimization between the two. And you have five factors not necessarily independent of each other, the control of which you use to achieve that optimization—the two dimensions of the planar court, the altitude, the spin on the shot and the time to setup for the stroke.

There are simple tactical battles like the one-two punch or elaborate point-constructions where each passing stroke in the rally moves you closer to the point. There are sacrifices made to effect a check-mate the next shot (like Federer’s chip into the service line followed by the pass), and visibly deliberate and unstoppable aggressive moves (like the Pistol’s move to the net on back of a serve). When you play the game you are in charge of both attack and defense.

The complete matrix of your tactics is what finally is your "style of play." The style of play can be as eloquent an expression as any—the intent to dominate (Sampras), the will to be superior (Federer), the fighting spirit (Nadal), or simply a fancy to laugh at your opponent (Murray).

Note that from the physical level to the style of play, what you choose to do at each level should be to your strength to be successful. There is enough scope for creativity at each level of the game that a most successful player can be so due only to excellence solely in one of these (Monfils) or an extremely talented athlete can be a complete failure because he did not have the keys to one of these (Santoro).

From an entertainment perspective, two things make it one of the most dramatic of sporting experiences—the point system and the gladiatorial nature of the battle.

The point system is hierarchical in that it “forgets” what happened in the previous game or the previous set. However pathetically you went down to an opponent in the previous play, you always get a chance to come back and start afresh. Both these factors have led to many an unbelievable comeback, and heart-breaking near misses.

Whatever the kind of outlook you have, tennis has enough of it to offer. The “dots” that form the game seem to be placed in the most optimized manner for the kid to draw the cutest little picture in his nursery class, the artist to conceive the most fantastic painting, or the engineer to formulate the most creative optimization that fits them.

The set of ideas that is tennis is simply an outright winner at every category. It is a beautiful idea—a beauty that arises from simplicity and coherence.

The Interpretation of Tennis: Roger Federer's Art

antiMatter — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 23:50:42 -0500

The tennis court has an area of roughly 195 square metres, with the net splitting the court in half.

The rules, along with the lines on and restricting the court, and the net, constrain the trajectories the ball can be imparted to, if one is not to forfeit the point being played.

The player guesses at the way he needs to move and strike the ball after picking one of these allowable trajectories, to achieve that trajectory.

Well, of course what he can pick depends on what he gets from the other side of the court, his anticipation and ability. Sometimes he is not allowed to guess at all, as in the case of winners.

If his guess is wrong, he will end up imparting a different trajectory to the ball. If he is lucky this will still keep the ball in play. If not, he would forfeit the point.

Now it's time for the other player to start picking and guessing. The ball is literally in his court.

The picks, the guesses and the execution...that is where each player differs from the other. The way each player plays, then in essence is, an interpretation of the basic concept discussed above.

Roger Federer once mentioned that in his earlier years in tennis, he sometimes went for the "more beautiful shot" rather than the more effective one that would win the point.

In Federer's mind then, there are cases where the rules of the game are in disagreement with a sense of aesthetics.

Indeed, it is not surprising that this could be true since sensing aesthetics is a subjective experience, while rules are objective. At the same time, it is indeed awesome that this subjective sensation has an underlying universal coherence.

It is exemplified by how everyone on this planet thinks Federer's game is "beautiful." (I could have picked some great piece of art as well, but we are talking tennis here, are we not?).

It could have taken Federer a lot of work in bringing consensus between the rules of the game and aesthetics, and still preserve the astounding effects of the both a formidable all-court game and a wonderfully endearing aesthetic sensation.

For, the Federer forehand is at once the most devastating weapon in tennis, and one of the most visually endearing experiences ever.

On the one hand, the trajectory of the ball is one that even as a viewer (beholder?) one might not guess and which stings the opponent like a snake, and on the other, the seamless-ness of the movement of the trunk, limbs, and even the head and neck before the strike seem so coherent with each other, so coherent with the approaching ball, and the follow-through virtually looks like a brush-stroke that draws the path of the receding ball in the air.

The extremity of the racquet head seems to be the focal point of the movement, which again has been guessed based on the trajectory of the ball chosen for the shot being executed, around which the rest of the body moves in a pre-determined fashion, making no out-of-sync adjustments on the way, all of them in motion only to support the racquet head.

There are no parts moving "wrongly," with other parts moving in an attempt to cancel the effect of the botch-up of the first. All of them add up, nothing subtracts.

Just like in the case of dance, there are no parts of the body that move in an aimless manner, appearing irritating to one.

Every single movement is like notes from different instruments in a symphony, that nevertheless follow the conductor, which here is the racquet head.

A reason why Federer's game seems so endearing to the masses, other than its inherent beauty, could be that we have enough time to capture it, and digest it.

The movement is not lost in the midst of the ball flying all over the court. It even stands out sometimes as the sight that the flying balls are trying to create.

Federer moves into the shot earlier than other players do. And that he is able to execute it seamlessly means that he has a better anticipation.

His follow through also extends a bit more in time than other players. This is what gives us more time to capture it.

As the ball races past the opponent in dramatic fashion, the eye shuttles between the lingering follow-through of the masterstroke that created it and the baseline where the ball check-mated a befuddled opponent.

With the variety of shots that he has mastered, "Federer" is a cuisine that is endless in variety and impossible to resist and, precisely for this reason, one that most fans would want to taste at any tournament more than any other.

The Roger Federer Interpretation of tennis indeed does bring into mind a lot of other places where beautiful art is experienced.

One word to express it is "coherence," another is "beauty."

While psychologists and philosophers debate whether coherence is the what we experience as beauty or whether beauty is what, to the overtly analytic, brings to mind a notion of coherence, let's sit back and enjoy "a thing of beauty."

Physics, Metaphysics, or Tennis...or Random?

antiMatter — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 03:30:38 -0500

So complex, yet so simple. No, things don't work this way...

It is a guess. Yes, it always is. There is a conviction that makes one believe it is not a guess work, but a rational, a priori solution, while it is always verified by a posteriori experimental results.

It all is—science, life, sports, economics—all "intelligent" actions. For if it were not a guess, there would not be "wrongs," only "rights."

When one takes aim to hit that forehand, the mind estimates, rather than calculates. It sees a question asked of it; a problem to be solved.

Much the same way as it sees a new problem in Physics. It has to guess the right answer to a problem in Mechanics, the difference here being that it has to manipulate nature rather than analyze it.

It guesses at the dynamic configuration of the body, rather a continuum of static configurations required to tackle the problem.

The problem, in an over-simplified fashion, is to manipulate the body to send the racquet face at the ball in a controlled projectile motion, to accomplish a collision that would present nature with two momenta, which it would re-distribute in such a manner that, speaking at a higher level of abstraction now, would help one win the point.

Yes, in the microcosm of sub-conscious thought, winning is the only thing.

It is a guess work because the mind has no knowledge of the mathematical laws of nature. It has only the knowledge from experience—a knowledge that is again a perceived one, rather than a measured one.

The inputs are twofold. One, the physical; the other, the psychological. Two independent inputs, probably—if isomorphic physical quantities could be found, their dimensions would be different.

But then there would exist a mathematical function, implicit in the definition of the problem being solved, that would map these two into a single physical output left to the evaluation of nature.

In its entirety, it is finally an attempt to optimize an equation in which two functions enter, the mind and the body, both perhaps dependent on each other, to achieve a mathematical result, also a function.

The resulting function, and the co-efficient of dependency between the mind and the body varies from sport to sport. And with it, vary the weightage to be given to the physical and mental aspects.

There are sports that need more of the mental aspects, like chess, and then there are those that are finely balanced like tennis.

--------------------------

Mixing levels of abstractions is not a good manner of thought. And this is precisely what brings many attempts at thinking to a halt. Like this one, perhaps.

Near Misses : The Hingis Meltdown, Part 1

antiMatter — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 02:10:31 -0500

The rules are always the same. The mechanics are always the same. But it never gets boring, even after watching for over a lifetime.

Such a rational platform with deterministic rules that say, "If A then B", perhaps not so ironically, is one that also provides infinite possibilities for enjoyment. And enjoyment comes only from discerning a variety and not a repetition of patterns (the converse is perhaps not true).

Why? Because of all the chaos and randomness that could be associated with the human participants. The variables are of unknown dimensions and quantities. The probabilities suggested by the pattern-seeking mind turn into predictions, prejudices become devotion, and hopes become beliefs.

And no factor can be as dramatic and unpredictable as the mind and the control by one's will over it. And there are many examples which would be nothing but case-studies in psychology.

For, Hingis should have won her French Open 1999 finals against Steffi Graf.

Hingis was the world number one at that time, and the next big thing in women's tennis at the age of 18, having won five slams already and needing only the French Open to give the beauty of totality to her achievements. Steffi was coming off an injury layoff and had planned the event as a warm up for the grass court season. She was clearly in her final years in tennis, kissing good bye to the sweet twenties.

Hingis had a well-rounded baseline game—a strong forehand, a backhand that was stronger than most forehands (including her own), great defensive skills and anticipation, and an almost "Agassi-an" ability to take the ball on the rise when needed. Not to forget a great sense of geometry and ability to use the full court in imaginative and creative ways to construct a point (sound familiar?).

When the courts did not play fast, the greatest weapon in women's tennis would definitely bow down to such a conglomeration. Yes, though Steffi's forehand could chew up a forehand, a backhand, and somebody's first serve all together and spit them out in contempt, this was a matchup that would judiciously factor out as much of it as possible from the proceedings.

That's how things were. Well, that's how things started—Hingis playing a great ground game, keeping her accuracy over the Everest, at the same time hitting winners, and exposing Steffi's backhand. She would also approach the net on many occasions, confident of her ability in that part of the world from her rich volleying experience from a doubles career, almost as decorated as her singles career.

Steffi's forehand when it got the chance, did inflict all the damage that it was notorious for, and her sliced backhand was deep enough, though going mostly cross-court, to keep Hingis from taking too much of an advantage. But there was no doubt who was the better player overall as Hingis took the first set breaking and holding serve one time more than Steffi did.

It must not be forgotten what the other human element was up to the whole time—the crowd. It was continuously cheering out for the veteran. And perhaps it was doing enough to make that cheering irritating, as happens sometimes, and Hingis was not comfortable with that really.

The drama in the match started unfolding in the second set when Hingis was a break up and Steffi was serving at 2-0 down. Hingis' return was called long on the baseline on the back-hand side. After an argument with the umpire, Hingis crossed over the net to check the mark—a prohibited action in tennis. The Parisian crowd decided that this had crossed arrogance and reached another level.

These antics helped only in bringing out the match referee who granted that and the next point to Steffi, and earning another opponent who was not really in one place, but all over the stadium.

The "smiling assassin" for some time seemed to be enjoying this duality of the opposition and played as well as she did the previous set. But the Parisian crowd is a slow and smooth assassin, and it methodically worked its way to get under her skin.

Hingis's protests that the crowd was cheering during points only made her earn more of the same bitter pill, which was also poisonous. In spite of all this, she clawed her way into 5-4 second set, serving for the championship. But it was clear that Hingis was not enjoying the moment at all, and her motor neurons were ordering her hands to agitate in tension, irritation, and anxiety.

Tension from the moment, irritation at the crowd, and anxiety at the unsureness of what was going to happen. Add to that a missed back hand, a long forehand, an opportunity let off at the net off a bad drop shot, and the fact that it was Steffi on the other side of the net, and the opportunity went away.

The second set slipped out of her hands. The third set too passed by in rapid speed as Hingis's mind revolted and Steffi's game became more cooperative and started reaching its lethal best.

She could trace out the trajectories of the ball in the air with her racquet that day that could have won her the match. But neither was this a problem in Newtonian Mechanics, nor was she a Physicist.

What she needed was her force of will to suppress the chain reaction of self-destruction her mind had been trapped in, triggered by the crowd and sustained by her own doubts and brashness trying to revolt against it rather than circumvent it.

After the match was over, Hingis herself neatly summarized what had happened by walking off the court ready to burst into tears, unable to let the world see that she had bowed down in more ways than one. And perhaps she would not have ventured out for the presentation had her mother not been present to take charge.

It was not the competitor but a protesting teenage girl that appeared for the ceremony. The innocent smile was back on her face, and there was no sign of the “brashness” that the crowd had punished her for.

She had a very genuine and friendly complaint to make too, “Steffi told me I am young, I have so many more chances, but I was three points away today, and you don't like to lose like this.”

Sometimes one does wish that it was all just about the mechanics.

---------------

Hit these :

Rajat's opening piece to the near misses series
LJS's sequel to "The Hingis Meltdown"
Joan's article on the same, an older one from BR itself

Tennis: Winning Is Not the Thing

antiMatter — Sat, 24 Oct 2009 07:19:34 -0400

LJS and I are collaborating on this one. To read his side of the debate, please click here

"Corner cases always reveal a trend"

"Winning" is not what it seems to be

A match is won if the score-line predicated by its rules is reached. Though in most cases , where it clearly demarcates between the better and the worse player, it is not necessarily an objective measure of whether you played better or not.

Tennis is an asymmetrical game, and that lack of symmetry is more visible here than in most sports (except cricket perhaps). What is meant by "asymmetrical" is that both players do not play on an equal footing at any point of time, or at least, both players do not do the same things at all points of time. Obviously the server is at an advantage in all of his games.

The score-line does take this into consideration to average out the effect, and that is why a two-point difference is always required everywhere.

But then it is hierarchical. It forgets what happened in a previous game or set. Every previous game and every previous set only delivers a binary result into that set and match.

The result of all this is that you could end up theoretically having better statistics on your serves and return games, but still lose the match. A simple case, e.g. you hold to love in each of your service games, but take the opponent to 30, or deuce on his, then lose the tie-breaker by 7-5.

The attempt to bring objectivity and remove the asymmetry inherent in the game has resulted in another asymmetry, that certain points are more important than others. Thus the match is not just about the "game" now, and it brings in a lot of other variables, "mental toughness on important points" for example.

It is sometimes amusing to see players rationalize losses by stating that "he won the important points today."

Hence, the score-line which predicates who "won" doesn't always indicate "who played better." In those cases, what information the score-line gives us is that "the winner was better on the important points," the bias towards the "importance" brought about by the score-line itself.

In essence "the win" is arbitrary. Every score-line that makes for sport entertainment will have some subset of cases where the score-line-dictated-win doesn't match up with other statistics from the game, or really "who played better."

Winning doesn't mean that you are "right"

When a top-level athlete like a Sachin Tendulkar or a Roger Federer says that winning is all that matters, what do they mean?

Do they mean to say that they "just won" and that is all that matters?

Are these people who would be happy if they get all their points by top-edges or let-chords and all within the rules of the game?

I would like to think not.

The delight from practising sport, as in any other art, comes when intent is rewarded.

It is possible to be late to a shot due to your physical sluggishness and still hit the sweet spot sending the ball inside out for a forehand winner.

Did you win the point? Yes.

Were you right? No, just lucky.

As you celebrate the point, something echoes within your head. "That meant nothing."

Then there are the other cases, where after toiling for hours, you lose the match due to a couple of those important points. You feel sad and think that just a couple of points more would have fetched you a win.

After all, you played as well as the other guy.

When you feel downcast in this situation, you are not really downcast about your game. You are downcast that you did not "win," which, as discussed earlier, is an arbitrary ruling especially in the case of tight contests.

The core of the argument is simple. You play to be right.

While you would like to be at your best everyday, you are satisfied and happy playing what you can on the day.

Being the master of yourself and utilizing yourself in the best possible manner is all that you can do.

Nothing surpasses the delight of being able to calibrate your shots, and push yourself to the limits of your ability on that given day based on your own reading of your game. The deliberate attempts to improve, bearing fruit on the court, is definitely the best feeling.

Being right means that you did what you did, deliberately. Each shot you hit (not "each point" mind you) was earned. You were dictating your body to do what you thought should be done, and were not being passive, or playing based on fantasies or what should be done.

In the end, despite all this, the score says that you lost. You go to bed peacefully thinking that all you did was what you could do that day. The outcome was rational. There is no need to be downcast on a rational result.

"You are good if you win."

What is forgotten here, conveniently, is that in many cases, mostly competitions, the criteria for winning is human-dictated.

Reading the world based on results rather than actions—in many cases—is an attempt to quantify something by a procedure without understanding what that procedure means.

Not delivering a product on time does mean something and you know what it is. That result is a true result, and by any criteria you can cook up, that is a failure. This is not simply true with, say tie-breakers.

Once you do all that you can, based on your considered judgment at that point of time, you did right.

Anything else doesn't matter.

In The Zone With Pete Sampras, Part One

antiMatter — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 15:01:43 -0400

There is no easy way for me to do this. This is the one one man in tennis that I feel truly emotional about.

And as much as I would truly like to do something "special" for him, I am paranoid about trying something and not doing it to my satisfaction, or blowing it up for my idol.

So I will hasten here for fear of boring and irritating my long-suffering readers and doing an injustice to him, and plunge into a bit of my memoirs about this truly remarkable legend of tennis, not committing myself to the misplaced metaphors that the other part of my consciousness is pushing in front of me, and just stick to a first person monologue.

I grew up watching Pete, and as happens in the case of most blokes, my Dad laid the seeds for the prejudices that were soon to bloom in my mind regarding the game (which I have since, tried hard to shed). He was a true blue fan of Andre and Pete, and normally took the side of either of them, when they played each other, depending on who played better. He would always want the match to get tighter.

He used to tell me when Pete would start bouncing the ball at the baseline to serve at 0-40 down at 4-5 (down) against Agassi, seeing the tension in me, "Why are you worried? I will tell you what you are going to see—a couple of aces, one of them on a second serve, a serve and volley, and an un-returnable serve."

Well, though that was not the exact order in which things used to work out, the crux of the story was still the same. And then he would add, "See? I told you. Against most players, the fact that he has won so many Slams would be enough to win him the match. But this is Agassi. Anyway, I told you."

This and many other instances firmly cemented Pete as a hero in me. He never played to the crowd; well almost never. But I have always felt that Pete's game was the most expressive thing on a tennis court.

The clinical precision and cruelty of a second service ace, the sheer drama of a Slam Dunk, the adrenaline of a running forehand, the elegance and authority of a back-hand cross court pass, the air of finality of the laser-guided volley.

But what accentuated this experience was his demeanour, especially the slow and assured walk around the base-line between points, where it seemed that he let his body take charge of itself as if the muscles remembered how they could walk, while his brain had better things to delve upon.

The delicate equilibrium of the balancing act between the left and right halves of the body gave the impression that he was about to fall off in fatigue. This is body language that you would call negative in most players, but on Pete it meant nothing and on most occasions, seemed intimidating.

He never seemed to panic, or encourage a brouhaha over his exploits. A shake of the head in an approving nod, or a clenching of the fist was all that would be visible.

All this gave me the image of a man who not only was in control of himself, but also in control of his fate. And he was never weak, or never wore away during a match. Tennis was the only focus when he played, not what came after that or before.

(I can not afford to go into the stories of this man that have legendary status in my mind, nor is that the point of this article.)

And when the man who had the perfect attitude of a tennis player together with an almost perfect game (we know who has "the perfect game") Zoned in, he became executioner and undertaker, rolled into one, the silent assassin.

The match under consideration is a Davis Cup tie between United States and Australia where Pete squared off against Pat Rafter.

Rafter was better than Pete at the net, had a better single-fisted backhand and had a kick-serve that played to Pete's weaker wing.

In the first set, Rafter used his angled and kicker deliveries to great effect, extracting easy balls at the net and putting them off for volley winners. And Pete himself was brilliant holding his own service games; after all he had arguably the best service in the business.

The game in those days were faster and more reflexive. The courts played very fast and the volleys were pin-point accurate not giving an inch to give hopes of retrieval. And outright return winners were not very rare either, since it was enough to get the ball past a charging opponent.

So it was vintage serve-and volley tennis for a set, Pete holding his own comfortably, and Rafter having a good time because Pete could not really do much on the returns, which mostly sealed the deal for him.

The tie-breaker had some vintage shots. Pete got his nose ahead with a backhand cross-court flick pass off a very very low ball with a lot of vicious slice on it. After many exchanges, Rafter paid back on the same coin but with a little assistance from the net.

Rafter then went up a set-point with a stunning forehand pass down the line from a pacy stroke off Pete's forehand and sealed the first set with an unreturnable serve.

The second set was where Pete's base-line game started to come into full force. The first of Rafter's service games in this set gave glimpses of it, when Pete ran down a laser-guided volley on his forehand side and on the dead run sent it for a cross court running forehand pass. When Pete is on the run, you know what is going to happen, but there is most of the time, nothing you can do about it.

Pete kept serving strong as usual, but he started reading the Rafter serve better. Return winners started pouring in from both the forehand and backhand sides, many of them passing shots.

Where he couldn't hit a return for a winner, Pete directed the ball at Rafter's feet at the net, and then taking position to hit an exquisite pass off the volley that would not have as much venom now due to the quality of the return.

A bit more of angle was added (or removed) and a bit of height taken off the passes which he had tried in the first set but which Rafter had gotten to.

Many volleys became smashes, and the Slam Dunks started burning the court as Pete made his intentions clear.

Pete's base-line game is what is most under-rated by tennis dummies, and that is exactly what started setting him apart from Rafter at that point.

The match presented a lot of moments for the connoisseur.

Forehand cross-court passes on service returns, what I would call inside in back-hand return winners, inside out backhand return winners, exquisite lobs which were beautiful on account of the "hand-work" on the ball with the wrist doing the work just like in a volley, and forehands of pure power.

I will indulge myself a bit here and point out a couple of these.

In the second set, on Pete's serve, Pete decides to stay back and Rafter directs a deep return to Pete's back-hand. Confident of his approach shot Rafter moves towards the net, Pete bends low, and flicks his wrist for a lob over Rafter's head that lands at the backhand corner of the court—just perfect. Though Rafter runs back and retrieves, Pete finishes off the point at the net with a deft drop volley.

Now just one more. This happened in third set on the Rafter serve. Pete mishits a backhand return. Rafter has all the time in the world and the ball bounces high over the net. He drives a full blooded forehand cross court. But Pete who is on the other side of the court, not only leans forward and reaches it, but also sends it back cross-court for a running forehand pass. Looking at where Pete hits the ball from, the commentator exclaims, "I don't believe it! I don't think he can believe it!"

With his artillery getting into it's full variety, the next two sets were bread-sticks.

After the sound drubbing in the second and third sets, though Rafter got his game up a notch in the fourth, and perhaps Pete relaxed a bit, the momentum was enough for Pete to break Rafter and seal the deal.

I will put an end to this rambling here in hopes that I did not spoil the read.

I had mentioned to Rob that I wanted to do "some match between Pete and Rafter in 1997, though I cannot recollect which one." It was Rob who directed me to this one.

As I review some videos, I now remember that it was the Grand Slam Cup that I was originally referring to. Maybe I would get to write on that some day.

The King of Swing will forever be my favorite.

------------------------------------------------------

Please find the previous instalment of the "In the Zone" series here, one of my favourites on Andre by Rob.

Tennis: A Game of Conveyor Belts and Calibrations

antiMatter — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 15:49:27 -0400

It is sure that you have encountered a situation before where you need to utilize certain "resources" to obtain certain "results" using certain "strategies". Yeah, the usual HR stuff.

In some sense, resources are more basic than strategies. Like, without a sword you cannot even participate in a fencing competition.

But when it is success that matters and not just the participation, that too at the top level, you better have the strategy ready as well.

A simple example might be that day when you were playing chess against the computer. You seemed to have more passed pawns in the end-game, but it was you who got pawned in the end.

It is the same in tennis, and most probably in all sports and definitely in HR—while the tool is more of a qualifying factor, the strategy is essential for the winning.

It is pretty difficult to exactly demarcate a person's game into different discrete "tools", since they sort of depend on one another.

At the same time, to those blokes who love the mechanics of the game, it presents the opportunity to be able to analyse the basic nature of the sport, though at the cost of an over-simplification.

Any instrument has a certain "error". It means that it doesn't exactly do what you want done. It is not a bull's eye every time. That is because there are a lot of external factors which are uncontrollable and random that affect the performance of it.

A major part of all engineering ventures is to reduce the effect of these factors on the tool if you cannot control them.

Whether you will accept that tool or go for another one will finally depend on how closely and how consistently the tool hits the bull's eye to your liking.

But when playing a sport like tennis, your body is definitely the major instrument that you use. You cannot just throw away a particular shot and buy another one when that shot malfunctions.

A game of tennis is similar to an assembly line—you deploy your shots one after the other, just like one after the other the instruments act on the material that is moving on the conveyor belt.

Only, in an assembly line, the ordering and the instruments are fixed, while the metaphor in tennis, every point is a different process and needs a different combination and permutation of your shots.

As a passing remark, it could be mentioned that the "permutation and combination" mentioned above is your "strategy."

Again, if all the instruments are not functioning properly, it is probably not a good idea to work the factory to it's full capacity and aim at the best product quality.

E.g., a boiler might be malfunctioning and you may not be able to use it to heat the usual amount of water that you heat with it. If you use the usual 5L, it heats the water to only 50 degree centigrade instead of the specified 80 degree centigrade. At 50 degrees centigrade, water spoils the emulsion you are going to make with it next.

But now you experiment with it and find that it works fine for a volume of 2L of water. Not what you would like to have on a perfect day, but this will allow you to still make some emulsion.

In such a scenario where things do not work perfectly, what you should do is, calibrate each of the instruments in your assembly line—as in gauge the performance of each of them and decide at what capacity each one will give you acceptable results.

Now operate the whole thing at an agreeable point. Your product quality may be poor, but still you can roll out something, and someone could buy it, whereas if you push for the best performance of each, you could end up blowing up the whole factory.

Similarly, if your shots are not working well on a day, it is not a good idea to push further and compensate for the points lost with more winners.

The shots are mis-firing because something not directly under your control is affecting it, and your practise and training sessions do not seem to have engineered you for this particular situation (mental demons?). You are trying to operate at over-capacity on that day under those circumstances.

So, calibrate.

Take a bit of pace off your forehand, and try to see whether you can reach some acceptable consistency when less is asked of it.

Do not try hard on those down-the-line back-hands. Go for the cross-court.

Stop aiming for the lines for the time being. Maybe if you aim a foot or two inside, you may make it.

Hit with a bit more of net-clearance and make the opponent play.

In short bring down the quality on your shots, so that you don't "ruin the product."

When you are going for more and more, it is similar to asking a tool to perform beyond it's limits.

It is like asking your laptop to play like the Deep Thought.

There is a difference between a ruined product, and a cheap product. There could be cheaper products out there. But not a "more ruined one."

There is a difference between self-destructing and playing below one's best.

For all you care, you could win!

Roger Federer: When the Will Gives Up for a Moment

antiMatter — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 17:58:01 -0400

A guess, nothing more...

He remembered the moments he had done the impossible. He remembered the battles he had won during the war he lost.

He remembered his hands and feet getting tied when he needed them the most. He felt that it was unfair, given that the momentum was with him.

He stared at uncertainty when he stared at the victor. It felt disappointing, and heart-breaking when he remembered the moments in his life when he was in complete control of his fate.

It seemed now that he had an equal, if not in dealing with the rest of the world (there could be none other in dealing with the rest of the world), in dealing with each other.

This was an opponent who, with brute force had torn apart, time and again, the weapons he had created out of sheer artistry and genius.

Brute force breaks. It doesn't need to channel its energies in any skillful manner. It is not creative in the way it breaks. It is mechanical and repetitive.

And in front of him now seemed the personification of the savage, who would not relent but go on doing what he is doing that he is optimized for: operate as the antidote for what he was.

There could not be another matching him in ability, and the Tennis Gods were aghast that there he was the anomaly that was dominating their kingdom like almost only they could do, and almost ready to challenge them.

But, in this universe, there is always an amount of force, even though misdirected - unless it is orthogonal - that can destroy any "amount" of intelligent design.

That is what exactly they had conceived to be sent as his antithesis. Yes he was the Smith to his Neo. The anomalies are always supposed to cancel each other.

For a moment, he forgot it that he had every bit in skill what his opponent had in force of mind and body, and maybe even more.

For a moment, he wanted to punish himself for the unchangeable past, forgetting that the future offers opportunity to redeem himself.

For a moment, it escaped him that he was close in that battle.

For a moment, he forgot that dealing with such an adversary as was standing before him in triumph, and coming out on top of him would only further his immortality, and his victor was a chance given to him to prove to himself yet another thing.

For a moment, he forgot that he was the only authority to which he had anything to prove to.

For a moment, he relaxed his grip over his mind. For a moment, he let himself be weak in sadness.

He cried.

----------------------------

Since then, Roger Federer has won two more Grand Slam titles and established himself, in most minds, as the Greatest Of All Time.

The hypocrites have retracted and have now gone back to being "believers."

Roger Federer seems a happy man.

Wishing one of the greatest exponents of the game, all the best in his career which promises to extend over another half a decade...

ALLEZ!

Creature vs Creature: The Turning Point For Juan Martin Del Potro

antiMatter — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 16:15:23 -0400

This is the first in a set of four articles that analyze two rivalries that have come under the scanner following the recent results on the ATP Tour.

This one takes Juan Martin Del Potro's side in his rivalry with Rafael Nadal.

Introduction

Almost no one on the men's tour uses the Eastern Forehand grip. Almost no one is as tall as six and a half feet. And almost no one that tall has ridiculously smooth movement for his height.

And no-one, except one man, has a combination of all three.

He has been for sometime now, touted as one of the future ambassadors of the game and a multiple Grand Slam Champion. Now that he has taken his first step by winning his first Grand Slam title, those predictions do seem to carry substance and not just speculation.

One thing that his US Open performance emphasizes about his general performance these past few months is that he is no longer having hiccups facing those ahead of him in the rankings as he beat the top two Grand Slam contenders of this era in back to back contests. As well, at the latest stages of the tournament when they tend to be "unbeatable" other than by the other.

What has been missing in Juan Martin Del Potro and what has now been rectified to a large extent is a high level of confidence in his shots when playing those whom the ATP rankings show to be "better" than himself.

This had lend him a bit passive against Federer and the like in the past, not going for the strike as early or with as much clinical exactitude as would be needed.

This brings us to his rivalry with Rafael Nadal - one among those ranked ahead of him.

This was a rivalry that Rafael seemed to dominate till early this year. But afterwards, it is well documented how Del-Potro has initiated a come-back. The US Open seems to be a sort of turning point in this respect, and let's take a look at it from that angle, while Rajat "Analyst" Jain takes a look at it from the other perspective here

The Story So Far

Till Miami 2009, Nadal was dominating Juan Martin Del Potro, and it always seemed that he could not cross over some barrier against Nadal.

People were always touting him to be the worst match-up for Nadal. The mechanics all seemed to be there - the height, which would mean that anything not really deep with a lot of top-spin, would be in his strike-zone, and the extremely pacy, flat ground-strokes which would not allow Nadal enough set-up for whipping his top-spinners.

But it must always be noticed that winning against someone is not just the mechanics of the game. It also depends on how you mentally match-up.

Perhaps this was the reason that Nadal won their first four encounters in straight sets. After all, Del Potro was only maturing on the tour and developing his game.

But then, Nadal was a speeding train running at over-capacity as the future would show, and Del Potro was enjoying improvements in leaps and bounds in his game, both in his strokes and his mentality, all this while.

He scalped the first win at Miami, and he had to come from behind in the third set. It was however said that Nadal was tired and less motivated after winning so much.

Then Nadal was removed from the scene for quite a while, and the next they met was in Canada in preparation for the US Open.

Perhaps it helped that Nadal was coming out of injury and did not really have match-practice, but surely Del-Potro had taken the confidence from his previous victory against Nadal. This time, the match was over in straight sets.

At the US Open this year, Del-Potro literally blew Nadal off the court. To the relief of Nadal fans, it was again reported that Nadal was suffering from an injury which did not let him serve well.

All the three victories of Del-Potro over Nadal, it would seem to many, came when Nadal was not at his best. But let us try to look at this a bit more objectively.

Under the Microscope

It is of no doubt that Del-Potro is not a good match-up for Nadal due to the following reasons :-

1. Nadal's primary weapon is his top-spin forehand. Anything a bit short against Del-Potro off this shot lands in Del-Potro's strike zone.

2. Nadal's serves are normally angled or kick serves. Del-Potro has a huge reach for the angled one's, and he doesn't easily get back-footed by the kick-serve because he is tall.

Also, while he could be back-footed during a rally by a deep top-spin forehand, he can chose to stand back from the court and step into the serve; in this case though he would be taking the serve from behind the base-line, he will be on the front-foot.

3. Del-Potro's serves and ground strokes are flat with lot less bounce and much horizontal pace. This would give a lot less set-up for Nadal to unleash his heavy ones. Because of this, to buy time and cut down on errors, he would be forced to play from behind the baseline, in a very defensive position. This is a really difficult position to win a match from, on fast courts.

This means that, on fast courts Nadal cannot afford to play even a bit short, or take a bit off his serve. He will increasingly have to take risks, taking the ball on the rise and avoid being too defensive.

On slow courts however, the cards that each player holds do not have the same importance. Nadal gets a bit more time to play the shots, and he gets to bounce the ball a lot higher. More setup also means, his accuracy will increase in painting the base-line. Winners are not easy to come by on clay, which is what Del Potro's game is based on.

Other than from the mechanics' perspective, Del Potro has also become a tougher customer to deal with mentally. And it should be noted that his level of play doesn't modulate nowadays as compared to how it once used to, which in those days, gave enough opportunities to Nadal, the competitor that he is, to capitalise on, and race away with the match.

Perhaps the most important thing for Del-Potro to concentrate on for now is his fitness, which though good, might not be good enough to let him tug along with Nadal in the really long matches.

The Momentum is With...

Del Potro without doubt!

The next time Del-Potro takes on Nadal, he will take with him all the confidence in the world. After all he has won three in a row now.

The match-up points to Del-Potro winning on faster surfaces, and Nadal on the slower ones with grass being a bit of a question mark, where movement could be difficult for the giant.

This year will indeed be the turning point in their rivalry. It will not be long before Del Potro achieves equality on the head to head or goes one better.

Showdowns to look out for

The "democratic surface" (as Rob York might put it) for these two is surely what is used at the Australian Open.

Also the lawns of Wimbledon where the movement of the giant could be a bit suspect as stated earlier, and the surface doesn't play as fast as the US Open.

Mechanics vs Mechanics: Andy Murray and Rafael Nadal, Man and Machine

antiMatter — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 06:31:39 -0400

The way a player goes about playing tennis is in effect, an "interpretation" of it.

Yes, the game is as simple as "win points, games, and sets, and you will win the match," but when the question pops up, "how?" the answers are quite varied. They are indicative of the players' interpretation of the statement "win points, games, and sets, and you will win the match."

Again, this question can be asked, and the answer given from different levels. The abstraction is layered, and you get the answer for whatever level of complexity you are looking to analyze the game from.

And here I am, trying in effect to find the level of abstraction at which Murray's and Nadal's games are similar. And it is no surprise that it is at a rather higher level.

Long John Silver analyzes their game from a lower level of abstraction, probably, going into the very mechanics of their games, to bring out their differences here.

You have a machine and a man. You ask both of them to achieve the same goal—win a tennis match. You also tell both of them one more thing—that they are to play more "defensive" than offensive.

The metaphor will be meaningful only with regards to the inherent qualities of the machine and the man (in reality both Nadal and Murray are men)—the machine is more methodical, limited in its variety, and precise; the man is more exploratory, innovative, and error-prone.

But yes, the similarity lies in the modus operandi. The word is defense, a word that is often misused when it comes to these two guys. I would say it is something like "constructive rallying."

Let's see how.

The way Nadal plays out his points—when he is sort of in control, and not scampering after every ball—is to put more work on the ball with each passing stroke in a rally. Whether it be spin, depth, pace, or angle, he works his body into the ball and transfers more energy into it, as rotational (spin) and translational (pace) kinetic energy, and makes the angle increasingly acute so as to push the opponent out.

This is pretty much following the game's basics—a good stroke is not easy to play against, a better stroke is difficult, and an even better one will force errors; in the worst case you would have to hit an easy winner. Only that the quality of the stroke is a function of the "work" on the ball.

But the aim is quite simple here—give strokes that are difficult for the opponent to deal with. There is a particular threshold of the parameters of the stroke beyond which the opponent will fail to handle it.

Nadal's game is a constant and independent of the opponent's game in many ways. He does what he does best which in turn keeps you from playing your best.

At this level, Murray's game seems similar. Only that, in putting his opponent out of his comfort zone, he doesn't use the constant that Nadal uses, but his method is more optimized for each opponent, and the optimization is more visible in his case.

Murray uses his uncanny grasp of the geometry of the tennis court and his reading of the opponent's game, in his own game. His game is more "four dimensional" than Nadal's in the sense that he varies all the three dimensions in space (two for the angles, one for the elevation—those loopy ones) and the time which the opponent is to have to setup for each stroke.

Murray destroys the opponent's rhythm in this way, packing lots of things into the same rally—lots of very different things. It could be compared to music and noise. One can at least appreciate rhythmic music, but highly uncorrelated noise is irritating and could sometimes give rise to mis-directed anger.

Hence both players "construct" their rallies, each stroke progressively moving them toward the point—Nadal using more of a memorized sequence, while Murray's is more variable and special for a match.

It is clear that both of these players have to be ready to involve in rallies, and this means you need to be fit and fast. And both are. Nadal is more of the raw athlete, while Murray is more attentive and anticipative. Both reach balls quickly and have good retrieval skills.

Going further into the Mechanics, as mentioned above will bring out only the differences, and I believe Long John will treat me to a Guinness while I read his.

A Murderous Attempt Indeed

antiMatter — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 10:12:42 -0400

Thoughts are ever so difficult to control

The control he had over his body seemed gone. His athleticism seemed reduced to clumsiness.

The granularity of control over the incremental body movements was not fine enough. It was always too much or too little for the required accuracy - the accuracy that was aimed at.

The conclusions of the intended trajectories of the orb were Peninsular corners and hence most of the times, the effected physical adjustments were over-compensations both ways.

The estimate of the current body position acts as a feedback to the Central Nervous System to help it in estimating the forces and torques required to change the body configuration and position to the requisite one.

There are two estimates here - the current position and the requisite torque and forces. Maybe the final requisite position is also an estimate.

All estimates seemed to be going awry as blows were unintentionally struck on oneself, not too rarely.

The logical culmination of the intended body-movements was a collision with the yellow-green sphere.

The two projectiles sometimes missed each other and he was forced to wonder at the logic behind nature. Physics seemed to be such a bastard.

The arena - the part of the universe where he hoped to be able to control his own destiny at least to the extend where his failures would be due to his mistakes - seemed to mock at him for his greediness to be the master.

He felt like a puppet, hands and legs tied and controlled by a master puppeteer. No - it was not the physical limbs. The problems where in the mind.

The brain is never completely under one's control. There are levels of control that one can exert on it, one's controller.

Yes there are always two people in charge on one's thoughts and action. Oneself and the rest of it which is out of one's own control - an abstraction that is God or the Devil.

Today his level of control seemed pathetic, as he felt being pushed increasingly, in steps, out of the closed chamber that his neck ramified into, with each passing point.

There was no point in continuing this madness. Something needed to be done - something abrupt to wrench one out of the senselessness - the chaos, the unpredictable determinism.

The irritation of the bafflement was suddenly replaced by serenity, as his mind, in an attempt to perform its assigned function, interpreted it as ignorance. Yes, no further consideration was necessary. This was a moment for action.

He lifted what was in his hand to the highest possible point his body could let him.

No this would need no calculations. Brute force would do the trick.

He brought it down with all the violence in the world; the whole movement was over in one big jerk.

And before him, as if writhing in mortal pain lay that twisted piece of metal with disjointed strings mutilating its form.

Rise of The Star, Yuki Bhambri: The Nuts and Bolts Are in Place

antiMatter — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 18:46:04 -0400

Yuki Bhambri, aged 17, is currently the No. 1-ranked player in the junior circuit. He is the reigning Australian Open Junior Champion.

This is the first in the two-article series on analyzing the game and future prospects of this young talent.

This article takes a look at the mechanics of the player's game, while Roh takes a look at the Big Picture.

-------------------------------------------

You think based on your axioms. You play based on the elements of your game.

The elements of your game can roughly be divided into two: movement and shot-making.

There is always an optimal relative position, and relative velocity of the ball with respect to the player, for hitting a particular shot.

When you have good movement, and a wide comfort zone around you, from which to hit shots effectively, you get to manage the match from a higher level. You tend to be a world-beater.

What training, experience, and growth do are widen your comfort zone, add speed to your movement, reinforce the power on your shots, and add variants to it.

So what must one look for in a young budding player? The basics of the stroke-play and the intent of the movements.

And in Yuki Bhambri, it could be observed that all the nuts and bolts are present.

Service

He has a solid first serve which he delivers flat, and with a lot of pace, angled or down the T. Sometimes even players on the pro-tour are content with just blocking it back.

On the second deliveries, and sometimes on the first, he delivers a kick-serve which generates bounce off the ground. When angled on the BH side or towards the body, this too can extract a weak return.

Forehand

His major weapon seems to be his forehand, a fact which coupled with the previous aspect of his game would mean that he should be able to go for a 1-2 combination with the serve setting up the forehand. This is normally enough to hold serve consistently.

His forehand needs a bit more study. During the process of hitting the shot, he swings the racquet using not just his arms, but the full rotation of his shoulders as well. This contributes to the racquet-head speed.

If one notices how he projects himself off the ground in the process of hitting the shot and lands after it, one could notice that the movement in the air, of his body, complements the shot adding to the racquet speed.

The whole shot is executed with a lot of smoothness and flair: no jerky adjustments or re-calibrations, which means that the anticipation going into the shot is good.

The cross-court forehand looks solid and his down-the-line forehand will only improve as he adds a few pounds to his body.

If one has to be able to execute a shot with such flair and smoothness, then one needs to be in position, and start the motions going into the shot, early enough. This brings us to his movement, which is absolutely top-notch.

Footwork and Movement

It is noticeable how well he is able to get into position, and how much time he has to play his shot.

And indeed one cannot fail to notice how well he plays the inside-out forehand or the inside-in forehand: a hallmark of players with great footwork.

Both these shots need the same kind of movement: run around a backhand to deploy your more powerful weapon...your forehand. In addition to that, as you execute the shot, you move forward into the court to add speed to the ball.

When you have enough time to set up your shots, you can start adding variants to it as well (you have the luxury of time), hit the ball a milli-second late if you so wish, or make a minor adjustment and go for a drop shot. Good movement is a real good help when it comes to expanding your artillery.

Backhand

Bhambri's two-handed backhand is rock solid, and has good consistency. What was most noticeable was that, on occasions he is able to go down the line as well as cross-court. The backhand, if not a killer is a solid weapon with good depth and consistency.

The sliced back-hand, mostly on return of serve, stays close to the net and stays low after hitting the service box. Reminds one of someone.

Return of Serve

Bhambri's return of serve is really top-notch.

He takes the serve standing close to the baseline, and on many occasions goes for out-right winners from both flanks: forehand and backhand.

Offensive returns are great to see and will give him a lot of opportunities to break serve.

Tidbits

What is perhaps not proportionate with the rest of his game is his net-play. He can afford to approach the net more given that he has a great serve.

Bhambri could perhaps slice a bit more on his ground-game, and his service returns.

He is what can be called, "an offensive base-liner". He plays close to the line and doesn't shy away from taking the ball early stepping into the court.

With a bit more speed on the running, and a bit more pace on his strokes, he is all ready to climb up the tennis ladder.

Davis Cup: Spain Is the Overwhelming Favourite in the Semifinals

antiMatter — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 15:52:40 -0400

At the behest of the Cap, a few of us came together and decided to write a preview of the Davis Cup Semifinals.

Rajat gets a bit too analytical here about the Czech Republic.

Clarabella's article from the perspective of Croatia is here.

The Cap is doing his bit for Israel here.

This is about the defending champions, Spain, as they take on Israel.

Spain is a very solid team on any surface. A roll call would normally be enough to send most teams walking off the court shaking their heads in hopelessness.

Rafael Nadal, Fernando Verdasco, Tommy Robredo, Juan Carlos Ferrero, David Ferrer, Feliciano Lopez. That is almost two teams.

This lineup would sound formidable on any surface, and nigh unbeatable on clay, with arguably the world's best ever clay-courter leading them.

Spain had a relatively easy draw against Serbia in the first round. Without Verdasco playing this time, Nadal and Ferrer played the singles, while Lopez and Robredo paired up for the doubles.

Serbia's hope perhaps would have been that Djokovic would beat Ferrer in the opening rubber, and then Troicki and Zimonjic would win the doubles, so as to leave them with a fighting chance in the reverse singles.

But the matches were taking place on clay which meant that the Spanish armada was at its best. Of the two things that Serbia had calculated or hoped for, only one came true, and Spain won with a commanding score of 4-1 as Djokovic lost both his matches.

They next met up against Germany, again on clay. But this time it was Nadal who was missing from the lineup. It also did not help that Kohlschreiber was on fire.

Kohl won both his singles rubbers, his encounter with Verdasco proving to be a thriller as the last set was squeezed out at 8-6. With Verdasco winning only one of his rubbers, and Robredo going down on his one, the doubles proved to be crucial, and Ferrero had to be brought in to replace Robredo for the reverse singles against Beck, which he comfortably won.

The scoreline was 3-2 this time, a much closer affair than before.

In the semifinals, they seem to be facing a much easier draw against Israel. Though they have neither of their best players on their side this time, the depth on the team is good enough to allow them to move ahead comfortably.

David Ferrer and Juan Carlos Ferrero take up the singles matches while Tommy Robredo and Feliciano Lopez team up for the doubles. It is suggested that the team captain, Alberto Costa, may have chosen Ferrero over Robredo for the singles even though the latter is a higher ranked player on Tour because of their respective current forms.

Harrl Levy and Sela are fielded for the singles by Israel, and Andy Ram teams up with Jonathan Elrich for the doubles.

The matches will be played on clay.

Ferrer and Levy have never met on the Tour, while Ferrer holds a head-to-head of 1-1 against Sela, but it must be noted that both the matches came up on hardcourts, with Ferrer winning the last meeting comfortably.

Both of Ferrero's matches against Levy were on clay and both of them involved a tie-breaker. And both of them were won by Ferrero. Ferrero and Sela have never met on Tour.

Sela can be a tough customer on his day. He has a ranking of 29 currently, and he has beaten Ferrer. But it is not going to help him that he is among the shorter players on the Tour, is more of a serve-volleyer, and has a single-fisted backhand, when you consider the playing surface.

Both Ferrer and Ferrero are seasoned clay-court players, with Ferrero being a former champion at Roland Garros. Both singles rubbers most probably will be won by the Spaniards, but it may not come as a surprise if Sela takes one of his to five sets or even wins one of them.

On the doubles front, however, Ram and Elrich are a bit of favourites, having won many titles together on the tour. But the fact exists that the duo has done well predominantly on the faster surfaces, and might find it tough against Robredo/Lopez, and this match could go down the wire.

A good balance of probability might suggest that Spain will easily go through with a comfortable 4-1 victory.

The clay looks red hot!

A Nadal Fan's Perspective : Rafael Nadal Goes Down Fighting

antiMatter — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 16:00:19 -0400

I wrote a CvC today on Rafael Nadal's chances against Del Potro.

I saw the match, saw Rafa being taken apart methodically and cruelly. I saw myself being made to look stupid in front of all of you guys.

Well, I do plan to go back and see what went wrong with what I wrote. I have done that already to an extend. But this is not about analysis. I have done enough for a day, and been punished for doing it.

I started seeing the match with a lot of hope. Nadal gave some trouble to Del-P on a couple of his service games, and though he was troubled a bit on his own, that is the way Rafa is, and there was nothing to worry about.

Then the scene started to unfold. It was vintage David Vs Goliath, but this time Goliath was in the Zone. There is pretty much nothing David can do about it when that happens.

Being a great admirer of Rafa, I started feeling a bit sick when things were happening the way they were.

Rafa started getting frustrated in the second set, but normally he doesn't get frustrated unless he believes that it is something that he is not doing right that is the reason for all this. Even that is pretty rare.

But I guess, it did not take much time for Rafa to realize what was happening. Once that happened, the grumbling stopped, and Rafa seemed to be ensconced in that world of his own.

He started pouring his heart and soul into the match. With every mistake that he committed, he tried to put an extra rpm on the ball, and an extra mph on the racquet head. Though he did not find success in doing it most of the times, there was that mantra to improve - "If I am losing, it is because I am not trying hard enough".

One could sense it in the way he was running down more balls, the increased power he imparted on the ball, and at his attempts to paint the base-line increasingly. Even in the muted celebrations after making some of his shots work.

It did not trouble him that he could not quite break Del-P even after getting a lot of break-points. He tried, he fought till the end.

A great example of this came in, I think the penultimate-or-so game in the last set where he constructed a point successfully and closed it out at the net. There was that fist pump. That "Vamos."

It was a long time since Rafa's real intent had found approval with the geometry of the Arthur Ashe, and Del Potro. And it seems he found that important in some manner. Important enough at that moment to shut out the fact that he was on the verge of losing that match and that in the bigger picture that point meant nothing. Yes he felt like celebrating his success on that point.

Well in the end, he played, he fought, but he was conquered. He went down fighting. He forced his opponent to defeat him.

Even when he was in the deepest trench, he tried to climb up. Not hoping to live, but as if that were his function in this universe - to keep climbing.

I did really feel sad after the match. But in retrospect, I realize that if I feel sad at this loss, I am being a fan of Rafael for all his slams. For playing his brand of Tennis. For being one of the best players in the world.

Though it took me some-time, I realize now what it is that I love in him. I could not have asked for a better performance from Rafa in that respect.

This match was, contrary to what many would say, vintage Nadalian for me.

I will have a drink now. A drink to Rafael's health.

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"VAMOS!"

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And a big congratulations to Juan Martin. You are shaping up to be one of the best players in the world. And you were really classy with your interview to Cahill. All the best to you!

Creature vs. Creature: Rafael Nadal Is Getting Back to Form

antiMatter — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 03:44:21 -0400

It is the second Sunday in New York, but we are not talking about the finals here, though I don't think anyone in their right mind could fault the draw if we had this match set up for the finals.

Perhaps next year, or in another couple of years, we will get to watch it on a second Sunday, but this time around the heavens aren't letting the tennis go on as per schedule.

I ran into some trouble with Long John Silver, who wanted to take Rafael Nadal's side as well. He even went to the extent of suggesting that I should compete with him to get the right.

But here I am, playing on Rafael's side of the net...well, perhaps Long somehow got convinced that the finals would go better with his ranking, while Rajat, "The Analyst" (yeah the rest of us are simply "Analysts" while he is "The Analyst"), presents Juan Martin del Potro's side of the story.

The Big Picture

All of you know how Nadal went ahead of the pack last year and at the beginning of this one; winning on grass, hard, as well as on clay, becoming the No. 1 in the world.

Well, you also know what happened next. His efforts culminated in an injury. He couldn't defend two of his Slams, and he slumped to world No. 3 before the Open, ending up seeded third for the first time in a few years.

Nadal's comeback has not been sensational by any means. He reached the quarters in one of the tournaments and the semis of the other. But in the Open he seems to be regaining his form.

He seems to be able to run well and is getting the accuracy on the shots back. His service percentage is over 70 again, and his unforced error count is trending to 20.

It is interesting in this scenario how his matchup against del Potro would go. Before Rafa started to fall victim to his efforts, he completely dominated del-P, on hard, clay, and grass. That was until Indian Wells this year.

But since then, Rafa has lost to del Potro twice. Once in Miami, and then in Montreal. Rafa's supporters write off these two, since they came at a time Rafa was not fit. In Miami, he was tired after dominating the field for the hardcourt season, and in Montreal, he was just coming back from injury.

There could be reason to buy some of that, since in Miami, Rafa played passively, landing his strokes inside the service box, and in Montreal, his statistics were poor—a first-serve percentage of around 65 and an unforced error count of close to 20 for a two-set match; he clearly lacked match practice in that encounter.

But it should not be discounted that del-P has improved physically, technically, and mentally. He will go in with the conviction that he can beat this guy, which perhaps was lacking in some of their previous encounters.

Considering Rafa is clawing his way back into form, we are left with a lot of unknowns in the equation. It is precisely such an equation that invariably gives fans a lot of anticipation.

This one promises to be a match for the ages.

The Mechanics

Both of these players are solid base-liners. But the differences are there for all to see.

Rafa hits his forehand heavy with a lot of top-spin and penetration. When he is on a roll, he can time and again trace the baseline with his strokes. The top-spin allows him to create very acute angles and push an opponent off the tramlines with consistency, even from midcourt.

His inside-out forehand is pretty much the weapon that he uses for the kill. Flat, pacy, and line-tracing, it is a deadly weapon. Many a time, he combines the crosscourt and the inside-out in a 1-2 combination to punch out a winner.

His backhand is solid, and he employs his cross-court backhand to pull the trigger a lot of times, and when he does that there is nothing much you can do about it. He doesn't go for the kill with the down-the-line backhand, however, but he puts a lot of depth and spin on that one.

Nadal can play with both breath-taking defence and extreme offence. He is fast on the ground, and has excellent retrieval skills, on many occasions, placing the ball in a disadvantageous position for the opponent. Using a combination of speed, spin, and power Rafa can pass his opponents with impunity.

Del Potro on the other hand, is an offensive base-liner. He likes to stay near the line and hit clean, and flat(ter) strokes. But this is not to say that he doesn't impart spin to his strokes. His ground game is solid and lacks any real weaknesses. With a strong forehand and backhand he is difficult to beat off the ground.

He feasts on anything a foot short and over the height of the net. His forward movement on these strokes is very visible. He seems to throw his weight on the ball, his momentum aiding the stroke play. This approach means that he is quick to take the upper-hand in a rally at the slightest advantage.

What is suspect is his ability to move. Given his height he is a good mover, but it is still difficult to switch directions on the run if you are tall. His on-the-run play doesn't match up to Nadal's.

Del Potro has a solid service being very tall. And if he lands a lot of his first deliveries, it is going to be difficult to beat him since he will go for a winner on the next. This holds even for Nadal who is among the best when it comes to preventing aces. He has solid volleying skills at the net too.

Nadal's serves are not his primary weapon. He employs the body serve well on the deuce-court, and can get unbelievable angles on the ad-court with his spin. His serve sets up his forehand. Nadal has greatly improved his volleying skills, and has an acute sense of point-construction. Though small in number, he normally comes out on top of his net approaches.

Nadal Will Win If...

He plays like Nadal. But don't get me wrong, it is difficult even for him to do that.

He must keep his service games short. He seems to have a strain in the abdomen, which could worsen if he has to put in a lot of serves. To keep them short, he needs to pull the trigger a bit earlier than normal on his fore-hand side. Perhaps he could volley a bit more too.

One myth should be dispelled here. Apparently being a tall guy means del Potro will feast on Nadal's top-spin forehands. Not so fast. Not all of them.

There are two factors here: One is del Potro's height, and the other is the depth of the Nadal forehand.

If Nadal lands his top-spinners, say a metre or two inside the base-line, then he is committing suicide. Del Potro can get over the ball, and hence blunt the top-spin, sending the ball for a winner at un-gettable angles, even for Nadal.

But let's say Nadal lands them close to the base-line like he normally does, then the angle-of-attack of the ball on the climb will be pretty difficult to deal with if you are trying to take it on the rise. So, del Potro will be pushed behind a bit.

Even then he is better placed to deal with these compared to other shorter players, but then hitting out-right winners won't happen on them time and again. People don't hit out-right winners on the back-foot.

It is safe to assume here that the rally will go on without a big shift in balance in such a case, but with a small advantage for Nadal, especially if del Potro is on the run.

So Nadal should use his mainstay—the top-spin forehand but pushing it close to the base-line. But if he needs to return short, he better use a flatter one, or if he cannot execute it without taking too much pace off it, use a slice that stays low.

Creating the angle with his cross-court forehand and pulling the trigger with his inside-out is another strategy that could be effectively employed. Given that del Potro doesn't like to move that much, Nadal need not be very clinical on the inside-out too.

On the backhand side, his down-the-line backhand which used to be suspect for short deliveries seems to have improved, but given that his cross-court is a better weapon, perhaps that should be tried more, except when he is on the back-foot.

The backhand slice, if it stays low will trouble the tall man, and Nadal could try some volleys on those as well.

The bottom line here is that if Nadal plays a solid ground game, avoiding Del-Potro's strengths, he can win the match.

Nadal Will Lose If...

If he lets del Potro take confidence from a good start, it could add on to his self-belief in his ability to beat the Mallorcan, which has been on the rise for some time now.

Nadal should not play too defensively like he did in Miami. He is not just a counter- puncher in this match.

If that happens, this will lead del Potro to go for winners with flat, clean strikes. Such balls bounce low and have a fast horizontal movement, which means that Nadal will get less setup to play these strokes.

Finally this could lead Nadal to avoid errors by going for shorter strokes which again will fuel Del-Potro's strokes.

He should at all cost avoid another abdominal strain by closing out his service games quickly.

Intangibles

Nadal seems to be in good form with a lot of calm and composure unlike what we saw of him when he bowed out of competition two months back. He seems to be playing without worrying much about his knees.

At the same time, he has had very little match-practice coming in. It could well happen that while Nadal's A-game would be sufficient, he may not be able to put the execution together. Adding to it the fact that he has not passed a test against any player in the top six, we can all but speculate about his chances here.

To put it simple, Nadal can win the match, but that just may not happen given the circumstances. It might be a bit too early to expect success of him.

But let's hope that he has played himself back into form for this big test.

Shots to look out for

The Nadal down-the-line on-the-run forehand pass and his ripping backhand crosscourt winners.

Del Potro's—what can you call it?—jump-backhands.

Prediction

Predictions go against causality.

VAMOS!

Rise of the Machine: Rafael Nadal's Back to Being a Fighter at U.S. Open

antiMatter — Wed, 09 Sep 2009 14:48:30 -0400

There is the fight. Then there are the skills.

One is a matter of commitment, a matter of consistency and a matter of definition of oneself. The other is a matter of pleasure, a matter of art and a matter of superiority.

The superior gets enjoyment, while the fighter finds it a necessity. The superior is a master of his art, while the fighter is condemned by way of his unchangeable mental make-up to trudge along the painful way.

It is red wine to the superior, that which he is the most skillful practitioner of, while it is daily bread for the fighter, what earns him the right to say that he is himself, that without which he loses his identity, his soul.

There is Rafael Nadal. And then there is the fight.

The tennis court becomes the Colosseum. Everything gets a definition. The vision becomes clearer. The mission, more direct.

It is like the Quest World, the Matrix. Perhaps the world gets Laplace-transformed. Even the exponential converges here. Impossibility loses it's meaning. Impossible is nothing. Singularities disappear.

The player becomes the fighter. The fight becomes isomorphic with survival.

Survival becomes simplistic - a syllogism. The oversimplification makes the attitude that of an animal. It is a beast in the body of a human.

The beast is not a manifestation of brute force. It is an optimization of a physical form towards a particular task and it's faculties know nothing else but that task.

It knows not what fright is. It knows not what flight is. It knows only to fight.

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The muscle mass has reduced, people say. The running is not as fast, they allege. The power has reduced, they shout.

But they dare not say, "the hunger is not there." They dare not say, "the commitment is absent." They dare not say, "he will give up."

For they know that to say it is to blaspheme.

The fight sustains him, and he continues to fight. One feeds the other. It is a perpetual process.

The mental replenishment is slowly nourishing the bio-mechanics. The forehand is dropping faster, and ripping off the ground higher. The backhand is increasingly being used to pull the trigger. The legs are coming out of their inactivity. The net-rushers are increasingly being stranded in no-man's land. The errors are reducing.

But most importantly, the fighting has become more important than the winning once again.

He may or may not win. But results are secondary here.

The important thing is that we again have before us the man in complete concordance with the concept that defines him.

Yes, this is The Return of The Nadalian.

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"VAMOS!"

Creature Vs. Creature: Only Lleyton Hewitt's Best Will Do

antiMatter — Sat, 05 Sep 2009 02:20:23 -0400

He is from the old batch—the batch that had Roger Federer in it. But Federer has since graduated and moved far ahead of that pack.

He used to be the World No. 1, the U.S. Open Champion, and the Wimbledon Champion. And guess who it is now, who is now what he was then? No brownies for the correct guess!

The last time Lleyton Hewitt won against Federer was way back in 2003. And since then, except for a couple of sets here and there where he has managed to hang in with the Swiss sensation and take it to the tie-breakers, it cannot really be called a rivalry.

But Hewitt is always the guy who refuses to give up. He is the guy who creates that extra ounce of octane for himself. He is the guy who fights as if this point, this game, is what will decide whether he lives or dies.

And when a man stakes so much of himself in a match, you cannot discount him. When you consider that he was once the best in the world and has won Grand Slams, and therefore knows what it takes to be there, and do that, he becomes that much more dangerous to anyone, including the world No. 1.

This is a take on Hewitt's prospects going into his U.S. Open third-round match against Federer. To see Rajat Jain's take on Federer's side of the story, please click here.

Will Win If. . .

Federer has the best serve in the top 10 today, while Hewitt has one of the best returns of serve. He not only returns well, but also prevents lot of aces through using his retrieval skills. Yes, but all this has happened in the past, and the results haven't changed in the past 13 times. So let's look at the real Will Win Ifs:

He should take a leaf out of the Roddick book and the Nadal-Murray book. He can run as well as the latter and volley, if not quite as well, almost as well as the former. He is one of the players who, having good all-court skills, paled into the shadows behind the baseline.

Serves in at Federer's body and obviously toward his backhand side should be par for the course. Serving at Federer's body is what Roddick did at Wimbledon this year, and with great success. Of course, Hewitt doesn't have as much ammunition as Roddick has for a one-two combination like this, but this will help him gain control of the point.

Serving on the backhand, one gets to taste the Federer chip, which lands somewhere close to the service line and can make you a bit tentative over whether you should come in after he plays it or before it—it's the "no-man's land."

Also, it has so much rip on it that the ball might as well roll over the asphalt after hitting it. Perhaps Hewitt should try volleying on some of them.

So, the body serve with a killer forehand and the backhand serve with a volley on many occasions—sounds like a plan. Then how good is Federer's forehand return? Does he chip those, too?

Hewitt's favourite shot, the diverging forehand, the one that goes to Federer's backhand, is another key. It is definitely not possible to learn to put 5,000 rpm on a yellow ball overnight.

But then drive it deeper, and don't let it stay low. The blokes who play their backhand with only one hand, like it low and slightly in front. If he likes it, don't give it to him.

He should try to restrict the rallies to backhand-to-backhand exchanges or forehand-to-backhand exchanges (Federer's backhand that is). Go for that bit of an uncomfortable, down the line forehand when you could have tried for the easier crosscourt drive.

Build up the angle from the resulting midcourt ball or extract a backhand crosscourt from Roger, and then drive it deep when you are at it.

Hewitt has an awesome offensive top-spin lob, which he can fall back on if Roger resorts to volleys. Being a counter-puncher, he is not alien to passing shots as well.

Having said this, Hewitt has to be at his very best. The saying is easy, the execution is mountainous. But if there is even a hairline crack in Roger's game that he can exploit, given the way the matchup goes, Hewitt is a man who can take advantage.

Will Lose If. . .

He gets bogged down by Federer's counter-play to the counter-puncher.

Being small in stature, Hewitt normally needs pace to give back pace. Generating velocity is not so much his cup of tea, and Federer normally doesn't give him much to work with.

If he stays passive and tentative and waits, which is the typical attitude of a counter-puncher, he will only see Federer dictating the gameplay, running him around and killing the ball for a winner from the baseline or the net.

If he fails to take initiative and change the direction of the ball a bit here, or hits it a millisecond late to send it inside-out, Federer will simply outperform him.

Federer's service has reached Samprasian proportions in the past couple of years. If Hewitt's return doesn't scale similar heights, it is going to be difficult to even get a sniff at a break.

His body has not held up so well, especially over the past year. It could well happen that it troubles him again.

Short and simple—he will lose if he is not at his absolute best.

Intangibles

That said, one can expect Rusty to come out firing on all cylinders and still fall short. Federer is currently having the best time of his life, having gotten married and started a family, and the timing coincides with his breaking of the Grand Slam record. There are no mental demons for him to exorcise in this match.

Whatever the outcome is, it is likely that the New York crowd will be entertained with some high-octane, adrenaline-rushing tennis.

Shots to look out for

The beautiful Hewitt inside-out forehand and the offensive lob landing just at the baseline from Hewitt.

"COME ON!"

Thanks to Rajat for some important inputs, and to Rob for giving me this opportunity.

Probability, The Hand of God

antiMatter — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 15:44:52 -0400

In the beginning was the mind and the mind was God

Uncertainty is the reason. Yes uncertainty is what proves God exists. Yes by definition, it does.

The mind tries to find reasons...patterns. It has been endowed, nay cursed, with the ability to think—to keep searching by default.

It takes what is given to it, by what it takes to be its five "senses", for reality. It defines reality that way. It tells that there is but only one way out of that reality—death.

Conquering that reality is not possible it says. The fate is decided by God. It has already been decided. And the proof of this unknown determinism is seemingly, the unpredictability.

Conquer the unpredictability and you are God! Nay! That would be nothing better than death. That would be mundaneness, to the level of a torture. So, conquer it, but only almost.

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"...so class, to put in retrospect what was discussed today—

Probability is a pretty tricky thing. It tells you that there are certain "expected" quantities.

Why did those quantities have those values? Because certain things happened more often than others in the past. And of course from the name, you can see that these "expected quantities" in someway constitute a prediction of what is supposed to happen next.

Why? Good question, Max! I think that's because the world remains the same. The Laws of Physics do not change. Something guides all these things—only we haven't caught hold of the entire scheme of things, but there is surely a pattern, and the bigger lop-sided results will most probably, never mind the vicious cycle I am creating here, stay lop-sided results in the future."

(Author's note: the Prof is wrong, in a way)

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Sports, to the level of exactitude our senses can record information, and the level to which our minds can reconcile themselves to the better accuracy of measuring instruments, both levels being almost absolutely perfect for the purpose, is an epitome of a rational world.

The unpredictability in this rational world comes from the unpredictability in the players. Conquering the unpredictability is in sports, winning.

But, as if to never question our faith in unpredictability, as if not to disturb our staunch belief in the possibility of probability being there to help us most of the times in the face of uncertainty, there come, only once in a while, the rate of their coming just enough and not trespassing the threshold beyond which the belief could be shaken, players who seem to control their own fate on the battle-ground to seemingly unattainable levels—yes "conquer, but only almost."

We always believe there is another God—a God not human.

At the same time, in addition to announcing certain players as the best so far, as if in mockery of the causality that enslaves us, we predict that there would be no better, the prediction, a result of our misguided obsession with the patterns that our mind has us believe from the probability it perceives.

Oxymoronic, since the causality that we mock at, is a creation of the God whose supremacy we, in some way, are confirming by anointing a Greatest Ever who is only almost supreme.

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"Ladies and Gentlemen...today he again proved to us that his fore-hand is the best ever.

His ability to read the game was as inhuman as it has ever been. His movement had that extra fluidity, and his backhand, the most beautiful athletic action ever, anywhere, everywhere!

A big hand to the unquestionable greatest of all time, on winning the sixth consecutive title here!"

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The hand of God probably points at Federer for US Open 2009

It Is Slam Time, but Let's Not Slam Each Other Now

antiMatter — Sun, 30 Aug 2009 15:50:36 -0400

Yeah, this is Slam time. The time when fans slam the door on each other's faces.

Apparently, articles on Rafael Nadal's achievements or his game recaps should carry comments on Roger Federer's achievements and why Nadal having a favourable head-to-head doesn't matter in any manner to Federer...or something.

Anything written on Federer's prospects at the US Open and restricted to that, carrying no Greatest of All Time debate or anything, should contain something on Pete Sampras' achievements and why Federer has not yet gotten to this or that record.

Apparently, when tennis is being staged—of the highest quality at the highest level—it is not about tennis anymore.

Why, me hearties? Is this really about two (or more) great champions? Really?

Or is it just you and me squaring off and throwing heated words and profanities against each other, trying at all costs to prove one's own pointless point? Perhaps it gives the sense that you are a Butch Cassidy and I am the Sundance Kid. A duel is fun, no?

Or maybe it is the pent-up anger at the bloke that double bageled you when you were in college. Or perhaps it is the anger that rises up on reminiscing the fact that you were not allowed to play tennis when you should have, and missed the chance.

You and me—both of us know that this is a game and it ought to be played for fun and watched for fun (well, "the played for fun" only to us non-pros). But we still fight; only if it were a fun fight. Yeah, maybe it is, maybe in some cultures throwing the "F" word at strangers is fun (fun starts with "F" of course).

You love Nadal, you say. Oh yeah, love him. But why should it concern you that I love Federer more, or I love tennis more? Does it diminish your love in any manner?

Or even the fact that that other bloke did a game recap on one of Nadal's victories over Federer? Maybe after you trade all the bullets you may find out to your (un)pleasant surprise that he was a more a fan of Federer than of Nadal, only he is not as obsessed.

Yeah, so that I sound unprejudiced, I may as well state that you can reverse any pair of names and get the same intended meaning here.

When something is stated within a certain bound, there is no justification for considering it insulting. Otherwise you are curtailing someone's freedom, or trying to—yeah, you cannot curtail his/her freedom unless he/she doesn't care what you have to say.

But that is not how a "society" is. People do care what others say about them. What is the meaning in coming together and being together, otherwise?

Perhaps it is all for better that a bit of restraint be exercised, and a bit of freedom be earned in the process. The game was made and intended to be bigger than the individual.

It is a forest—not just some trees.

So, it is Slam time. The time when fans are happy watching tennis of the highest quality. Savvy?

As Usual, Time For Tennis Festivities : U.S. Open 2009

antiMatter — Sat, 29 Aug 2009 16:41:48 -0400

It's time. And about time too. Had to wait till the end of the year for it. But what? All's well that ends well, don't it?

I remember the booming sounds Sampras' serves produced when they whizzed past the guy on the other side and hit the backdrop. It used to have an extra decibel added to it.

The sound and the cheers (screams) from the stands seemed to suggest that this was more of a duel than simply a match and that the Pistol got his name here.

The U.S. Open seemed in many ways the right place for the last decade of tennis. The unpredictability and drama brought about by pace and aggression seemed to get accentuated by the atmosphere. Tennis became truly gladiatorial.

But old stories are old stories and they are for another time.

What's changed now? The game's changed. The mechanics are changed.

Today's game boasts of the best base-liners in tennis ever. With emphasis on all-court play and a stress on athleticism and fitness, the bio-mechanics have improved by leaps and bounds.

The strokes have more spin, bounce, and "weight". The court-coverage is faster, and the brute force is breath-taking.

Still, the Open seems the right place.

For one, the court surface gives the optimum speed for the game, by controlling the pace of the groundies to the correct level. Too fast, and you are frustrated the point is over too soon. Too slow and you are bored.

For another, almost everything finds a place here. Volleys and base-line slugging co-exist. The flat strokes rediscover themselves here, while the top-spin is by no means blunted.

Perhaps more importantly, and perhaps as a consequence of the above two, it is the fact that the competition becomes much deeper here, is what makes it special.

The lead-up to the Open gives us so much promise, and shows how much more consistent the top players are in similar conditions.

The top four still sit comfortably in their thrones. But they surely will be made to sweat here, and that can only be a good thing for tennis.

Del-P could get hotter, Rod may find himself in the form of his life and fulfil the Dream, or Tsonga may hit his "Yo-Jo" mode.

The one blotch maybe that Nadal is not in the best shape. Murray does take it to Federer, but not as much as Nadal does in Slams, or so the fans think.

But what? Rivalries and expectations apart, the tennis promises to be exciting, the atmosphere to be as vibrant as ever, the lights as effective, and the colours as expressive.

Let's open the beer cans, sit back, and cry our hearts out when it comes what comes. Let's worry about propriety later (around next June, what say?).

Drink Up Me Hearties, Yo Ho!

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I could be reflecting some of Rob's thoughts here

Tennis Techniques: Aggression Gets Replaced By Survival

antiMatter — Sun, 23 Aug 2009 14:56:07 -0400

There are the hunters and then there are the hunted. If you take a look at animals, it is pretty diffcult at first sight to say why the predator would ever lose his battle.

The prey is never designed to fight. It is designed to run away. The predator either wins or doesn't win, but by no means does the prey win.

But that is an old story. The game's changed. Now the prey wins if it just escapes. It also got some designer shoes from Nike to do the running. The forest surface has changed. Instead of mud and grass, it is now concrete.

The Luxilons have reduced the net-height effectively. The predator cannot ambush from behind it anymore.

Yes, survival is the key nowadays.

With changes made to the court surfaces and racquet technology, the focus has shifted from attacking tennis and aggression to survival - out-survive your opponent and win the game.

Once upon a time there was a man called Johny Mac. That is how fairy tales start normally. Seems our story is no different.

Anyways, when Mac was playing, the strings were different from what we use now. You couldn't put so much spin on the ball. And with only gravity to guide the trajectory of the ball, you could not impart power/depth without taking away the elevation of the ball.

This means that your margin for error was less. You gained elevation, the ball went out. You were stingy on elevation, the ball clipped the net.

During the long life of tennis, the way racquets are gripped during the major part of the play has changed from Continental (variety) to Eastern (pace and low bounce) to Western (Top Spin and height). Note that the Continental grip is still used for serves and volleys.

The days are gone when one could see a Continental-slice on the backhand followed up with a surge to the net. Or an "Eastern-forehand-ripper" with a net-attack.** Then the ball used to keep low.

Now the ball bounces higher and slower, allowing more set-up. The result is always the same - a viciously spinning stroke (Semi-western/Western grip) - put the racquet on to it and watch the ball fly away. There are of-course more players now who can keep passing day in and day out - but that is again because you have more time and lesser margin for error.

Yes, spin is the name of the game. With higher spins, the aerodynamics comes into effect. The spin makes the ball drop dead, and gives it more bounce.

With the net effect that you can strike the ball with all the power in the world, clear the net with a lot of height, and still gleefully watch it drop down near the baseline. If you are at the receiving end, the ball bounces much more - it jumps up in your face if you are on clay. Sometimes it feels like you have been thrown an upper cut.

At the net, the ball feels "heavier", and more difficult to control. Also you could make the ball dip heavily close to the net.

About grips - now at the baseline, against a high bouncing ball, you would feel clumsy using the Eastern Grip on the forehand or the back-hand side. It is just not mechanically suited for the purpose.

You are forced to use the semi-western or the western grip. When you play with that grip, why not use its advantages? So you send the ball back also with the heavy spin.

But these latter ones are not at all suited for balls that keep low. So, isn't there a catch? Why not then use the low bouncing strokes as a weapon against the players trained for top-spin? The see-saw can tilt both ways, surely.

The answer is "No" due to three reasons.

One - no openings. Where do you start? You need a low ball to give back a low ball. You are not allowed that when there are only kick-serves and top spinning returns.

Two - risk. Why would you want to use that, when what you send back has a lesser probability of reaching the right place (remember the lower net clearance thing?)?

Three - technology and skill-set. Balls bounce higher, and slower, and you are taught to be on the safer side rather than try to be clever and be stupid - due to point two.

(Of course there are exceptions to the above. For example, you can slice a high ball on your back-hand side which would keep low. But how effective is the slice off a high ball?)

Volleys as stated, by themselves have become more difficult. Also, most people do not just spend enough time on the approach shots. You need to be even better nowadays on volleys than when volleying was in its prime, to succeed with it.

Overall it has become more difficult with technology aiding base-line play, to perfect a technique of attacking play. You can pass with safety, lob with top-spin and run around with more speed and for longer.

Perhaps no one has pursued this path for as long as it takes to make it the feared approach to playing the game. Perhaps given the technology, and the operational parameters of the human physique it is just not possible for it to be dominant. Perhaps it is just the attitude.

As you grow older, it is said that you become more mature and less reckless. You become more aware of the risks, and take lesser of them. You develop patience, and learn to wait for a more opportune moment.

Tennis has definitely aged over the years. But is this maturity?

Johny Mac too has aged, but still plays. Does he play this way?

Get a grip

Rewind 2001: Pete Sampras' US Open Nail-Biter over Andre Agassi

antiMatter — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 17:35:56 -0400

Traditions are to be honored. The rarity of a surface is to be appreciated. The natural origin of the lush green carpet is to be revered. The rich yet subtle feeling of grandeur created by the strawberries and the reflections of the skies on the dew drops is to be enjoyed.

But it seems a bit weird that one needs to celebrate tennis under the absolute imprisonment of muted claps, colorless reverence, and imposed discipline.

When one needs to celebrate, one has no place for festivities like this one. The concordance of the seeming discordance of the crowd noise, the confluence of seemingly immiscible colors, the freedom.

The true gladiatorial nature of the battle under the lights gets to you more than in any other place under such an atmosphere. You cheer not with your heart, but with your life.

"Screw the rules! When I want to cry out to my favorite player, I must be able to do it!"

And there are not many matches in the past decade that might have raised the sound and the tension to greater levels than when Pete Sampras squared off against Andre Agassi in the quarterfinals of the 2001 US Open.

Both are antonyms of each other in many ways.

One man shut himself out from the world during his career and is widely known as a media introvert. The other was a crowd favorite and media savant.

One seemed unimaginative in his sense of fashion. The other flaunted bright colors.

One seemed lethargic between points, ready to drop dead the next moment. The other was full of bustling activity and fidgety movements.

One man arguably had the best service of all times. The other was the best returner of serves.

The tennis, when you bring matter and anti-matter together, can be explosive.

And it was so that night. No matter how deep a trough Sampras's career was in at that moment, the anticipation was always there when he squared off against his greatest rival. It was a Grand Slam tournament, and only in Grand Slams did "Pistol" bring out the real ammunition.

Sampras served out his bombs at regular intervals, attacked the net like a predator, and dished out winners from the base-line on many occasions. Sampras' formula for holding serve was never to be doubted—it was tried and tested for 13 Grand Slam titles. What if the best returner is on the other side of the net? You decide where you put the ball.

Agassi predominantly served to Sampras' weaker wing—his backhand. To mix it up, he served to Sampras' forehand side (mostly with his first serves) on occasion. Extracting a weak reply, he went for the kill with crushing winners on both flanks.

There were a lot of competitive service games in which Agassi would send back a serve at the speed it came and started dominating the ensuing rally, finally extracting the winner.

There were others in which Sampras would find his way to the net behind a deep slice and then send away the return for a line-kissing volley.

Sampras is no pushover from the baseline, however. He can stand his own from the baseline against almost anyone, but Agassi has one of the best passing shots. Due to this, and, of course, some errors, never were the "competitive games" good enough to earn either player a break of serve.

There was nothing unexpected in this match with regard to how the players would play each other. Sampras depended on his serve, aggressive instincts, and athleticism. Agassi depended on his hand-eye coordination (step into the shot and take it very, very early) to get the upper hand in rallies, his ability to churn out passing shots, and his return of serve.

The variety on show was amazing! Aces, laser-guided volleys, running forehands, and slam dunks from Sampras. Blistering ground strokes off both flanks, crushing returns, clean passing shots from Agassi.

Perhaps that Agassi played a bit conservative in this match (not exactly going for the lines, but a foot inside) is indicative of the way his playing style had changed during that time to cut down on unforced errors (he had very few in the match, but a good percentage came in the tie-breakers).

The execution was breath-taking. Both men played out their plans to an equal level, leading to absolutely no breaks of serve in the whole match. There were dozens of games in which neither player even faced a break point. Each set was taken deservedly to the tiebreakers.

The first set tiebreaker was lost by Sampras in dramatic fashion, as he lost three set points. A forehand winner from Agassi on serve, a forehand error from Sampras again on the Agassi serve, and a mishit volley from the curly-haired American saved all three set points for Agassi.

Sampras shoved another forehand into the net, unsettled by a deep lob from Agassi. Agassi then double-faulted, seemingly throwing away his chance, but an angry serve down the tee next found no reply from Sampras. Sampras then (mis)directed a routine volley into the net to gift Agassi the first set.

Everything pointed to an Agassi win at that point. He was perhaps among the fittest players on tour at that moment, and his second coming to tennis had been hugely successful.

Sampras was in a slump, and had lost all of his previous three meetings with his rival. It seemed that Agassi would weather down Sampras' will and stamina soon.

But it was not to be, as an inspired Sampras ran away with the second set tiebreaker.

He opened it with perhaps the best shot of the mach. Agassi served out wide to Sampras' forehand and got a short midcourt ball in reply. He slammed the ball toward Sampras' backhand corner and advanced to the net to dismiss anything that came back—if it came back—into the open court.

But on the dead run, on his backhand side, Sampras could do only one thing against that blistering stroke: slice—and slice he did! The ball sailed diagonally across the court, passing Agassi, who was in the service box lunging for the ball on his backhand side, for a winner, just kissing the line.

After a couple of blistering volleys and some errors, the score was 5-2, Sampras. Agassi served again to the Sampras backhand, extracted a weak slice, and went about business drilling strokes at his rival.

Going for the angle on Sampras' forehand was perhaps not such a great idea. On the run, Sampras went cross-court with his running forehand, forcing an error. On the next serve, again Sampras stepped into a short Agassi shot and approached the net following a powerful forehand. Agassi went straight for Sampras, but his reflexes stood him in good stead, allowing him a volley and the set.

The third set tiebreaker was not so eventful as the first couple. Agassi virtually gifted Sampras the set with a lot of unforced errors.

The fourth set tiebreaker was again a thriller but was won because the other man made more errors. After trading early mini-breaks, Sampras got another mini-break with a backhand down-the-line pass.

Agassi then mishit an easy volley to give Sampras the advantage. Sampras, on his part, double-faulted and lost a point as he netted a volley. On Agassi's serve, Sampras still had a set point, and he took it when his rival netted a forehand.

As the players assessed the match afterward, the showdown came down to really a few big points in which Sampras could step up his game on a many of them but was also a bit lucky on some.

It is not everyday that evenly matched players of such contrasting styles bring out the best in each other. When the styles are contrasting, and the weapons are not only distinct but also opposites of each other, where one's shots are exactly what are necessary to counter the other's, there is the feeling that everything about this match fits in splendidly like the minute pieces of a giant jigsaw puzzle.

A match for the ages!

Final Score: Pete Sampras def. Andre Agassi, 6-7 (7), 7-6 (2), 7-6 (2), 7-6 (5)

Please read the previous instalment of the "Rewind" series for the US Open here.

Highlights of this match can be viewed here.

Fear, the Noble Thought

antiMatter — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 16:06:38 -0400

In the beginning was the mind, and the mind was God.

Thoughts follow the labyrinthine path of the lazy day-dreamer paying attention only to the beauty of the stunning views on the way, ever forgetting to docket the geography and form of the landmarks.

The mind moves so fast that it spreads along its path in the form of a python, ever so long, getting longer by each passing moment, losing sight of its tail. It writhes this way and that in an attempt to unearth some secret, which it doesn't know by any of the five senses, nor by the cognition of its mind.

There is fear in the writhing. There is fear in the restlessness. There is fear in the maniacal pace by which it proceeds in a methodical manner, yet so seemingly random to the conscious mind. It fears the secret.

The convolution of the path it follows, the growing length of its body, partly due to the unwillingness of the latter parts to remove themselves from the scene they are part of, and the speed at which it moves, defeats it, enslaving it in a Gordian knot.

In this metaphysical prison, it makes futile attempts to move—to break free, fully knowing that death will be it's only hope—if not of complete freedom, at least of an existence where the secret is of no concern—the hope for a freedom arising from indifference.

The movements it attempts, yet doesn't make, are signs of the fear. For they are definitely the sign of rebellion against its current predicament. When there is acceptance of fate, fear is void—a non-entity. Rebellion is the sign of fear. It could be. It might be...

In the beginning was the sea and the sea was without wind and the sea was without tides. The physical struggles of the mind from underneath causes ripples on the surface,

of Artistic Expression, where it is in pursuit of happiness, where happiness is that secret, where attainment of the secret is possible only through mastering the secret, where the elation of the mind should reach such proportions when the extremity of emotional expression will annihilate the walls of the prison;

of Scientific Exploration, where methodical and objective analysis of the universe will help the mind travel beyond the curtains of space-time and reach the ultimate truth—the ultimate axiom, which is conquered by understanding it, where the secret is mastered by identifying it;

of Sporting Endeavor, where there happens the marriage of the mind and the body in an attempt to control fate and circumstances, where mastery over another of the same kind in the same attempt will bring forth victory, an allegory of victory over the secret and annulment of the fear, for when one is better than all others in the attempt to unveil the secret, what has one to fear, so long as there are others of the same kind?

It is fear that drives, the fear that manifests in actions, and it is indeed this fear that becomes irrelevant by death.

Sometimes, recognition of this fear is the ultimate pleasure.

Inspired on attempting to play this, and this beautiful piece.

In the Zone with Robin Soderling

antiMatter — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 15:52:59 -0400

Training is a way to automation. The more details of an action one internalises and delegates to one's reflexes, the more one gets to concentrate on the higher-level things.

When the execution can take care of itself, the faculty of thought can concern itself with strategy. More attention can be spent on the shots one is facing, the weaknesses of the opponent, what reply to a particular shot to what part of the court would extract a weak reply, and such things.

Indeed are they unlucky, who haven't felt even once in their sporting-life, amateurish or professional, that sense of sporting supremacy.

That sense where, as one searches for things to take conscious care of, one runs into a quickly shrinking list, with an accompanying sense of pleasure and unparalleled happiness. The sense that tells one, that one is "The Alpha."

When in the zone, the body knows what the mind wants to execute. The motor functions work as if dictated by a precise calculating machine. The senses send in accurate data, and consciousness and instinct dissolve into a single totality.

When in the zone, you can beat God on His home turf.

Robin Soderling and Rafael Nadal are names that evoke extreme interest in sporting circles when heard in the same context. One reason has not so much to do with the sport strictly, as with Soderling's on-court behaviour. But what we are interested here is the other reason.

On a certain Sunday, Robin Soderling was in the zone, and he was facing Rafael Nadal on clay.

Prior to the tournament Soderling was seen as yet another player who tried his hand at clay as a way to wile away his time during what is (was) supposed to be an offseason for him. His major successes had come on fast surfaces—indoor carpet and hard-courts.

Though he had won his first three matches at R.G '09 with comfortable-looking scores, including a four-setter against David Ferrer, who by default, given his country of origin, is a formidable opponent on clay to almost anyone, Nadal was considered the over-whelming favourite for that match. The pummeling that Soderling had had at the World No. 1's hand days back did not help him in any way, either.

Facing Soderling's serve, when it clicks, could be a pretty nasty experience. He combined power and smart placement to force Nadal out of the court and extracted weak returns from him.

On the deuce-court, he served mostly wide to the Nadal backhand—his weaker-wing and this gave him the additional advantage that Nadal was forced to take the serve from tramlines or beyond.

On the ad-court, he could serve wide or down the Tee. Wide out, though he was serving to Nadal's forehand, the angle would force Nadal to return from outside the tramlines. Down the tee, he was serving to Nadal's weaker wing.

Though Nadal tried on many occasions to run around the serve down the Tee, it did not work out well.

In most cases, Soderling could extract a mid-court reply—either a slice or a weak stroke that landed short. And his success was mostly due to the fact that he could dismiss them for winners or take the upper-hand in the ensuing rally (with Rafa, the rally is not over with just a single winner).

Nadal uses his serves to get into a good position in the following rally, and not as a primary weapon. Soderling's returns to the Nadal serve were deep and strong on many occasions and especially on those where he had Nadal broken, thus depriving Nadal of his advantage.

Soderling's ground-strokes are pretty flat. On any surface, playing against such a stroke, you will get lesser time to setup. Nadal's game, predominantly built on clay, needs more setup for perfect execution.

What with the clay getting faster, this would indeed annul some of the advantages that render such an approach to clay-court tennis (Soderling's) almost void.

On the other hand, Soderling is tall and a slow-mover and not a great athlete, compared to Nadal. But clay, however faster it has become compared to itself, is still slower than the fast surfaces. This would have given Soderling more time to reach the ball. And when in the zone that is perhaps all it takes.

Add to it the fact that Nadal's looping top-spins bounce to just enough height to be in Soderling's comfort-zone and it shouldn't be a big-surprise that he won most of the rallies that day.

Soderling did really send flying kisses to the lines with his forehand and backhand. That day he did not have a weaker wing. He kept Nadal running from one corner to the other and weathered down his fighting spirit. He startled the defending champion with winners at improbable moments.

He really did beat God that day in His backyard!

Perhaps this match has set the tone for Soderling's career forward, and hopefully it hasn't set the tone for Nadal's.

Final Score : Robin Soderling 6-2 6-7(2) 6-4 7-6(2) Nadal

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The previous article in this series can be read here.

Read Rob's inaugural article to this series here.

Thanks to Rob for the chance to write this, and the support!

"Roger, You Broke My Heart"

antiMatter — Sun, 09 Aug 2009 15:47:57 -0400

Science Fiction and Humour is a very, very bad combination

(DIS)CLAIMER : All characters in this story are imaginary. But, any co-incidences with anyone alive, dead, or going to be born, could not be said to be completely un-intentional, with the corollary that the last of these could prove that the author might be non-causal. As to all the original concepts presented here, they are just outright crazy.

My name is Maxwell. People say that I am a mad-scientist. I devise experiments that are not-completely understood by even the best of Physicists, which would obviously mean that I am better than these guys.

So now you have a hang of things as to why I am called mad: just to discredit me and deny me the Nobel Prize. But that is not the point here.

The point here is that I would like to share with you guys, the results of an experiment that I conducted, which, to most of you would appear unreal. Call me God for all it's worth, because it happened.

Point One

Light is composed of what are called photons: particle-like things. In the light that you get from the Sun or an electrical-torch, the photons are like a wild mob. They are not very orderly.

When the light strikes a surface, it is like a lot of people bumping on to the surface but each bumping at his own random will, at any given instant you do not have a lot of people bumping at the wall.

In a Laser, all these photons are like very disciplined people. They act together. Lots of them bump the wall at around the same time. Since all of them bump together, they can even move the wall, even pierce the wall.

It is as if they know each other. There is some sort of meaning in the whole thing.

Point Two

When a positron and an electron (they are called anti-matter and matter) collide, they get replaced by photons - most of the times two gamma ray photons (a gamma ray photon is just high frequency "light" which our eyes cannot see). The process in reverse is also possible - photons can get replaced by a matter and anti-matter pair.

Point Three

In a Laser of gamma ray photons, we see that all these photons are ordered together - they hold a meaning. So what will happen if we produce matter from them? What will we get that is meaningful? Chicken nuggets?

Point Four

Under a very high gravitational field, Space-Time can bend and information maybe exchanged between two points in the Space-Time fabric instantaneously - the concept of worm-holes.

I did the experiment under a very high gravitational field. I projected the gamma-ray laser onto a white-board.

The meaning in the photons was what was transferred from another point in space-time due to the Gravity. The photons were converted to matter, but in a meaningful way.

(I am keeping it a secret how I separated the anti-matter and matter here. You guys are not just smart enough to understand that.)

What I got when the matter I got was cooled down was a manuscript which contained the following story told in first person:-

----------------------------

"Roger, You Broke My Heart"

-by antiMatter [HUMOR]

Rahath was my best friend. Yes past-tense! We were really close till he started pinching my Girl-Friends from me one by one (not literally). It became a habit with him.

I would start dating someone; it would start becoming real fun. Then he would "accidentally" drop-in at one of our hang-out places and voila! I am single again.

Matters came to a head when one day after his last GF-piracy act, I was forced to choose between re-defining the word "accidental," and stop considering him my friend ever again.

So I talked to my third friend, Ron, about this. Ron was pretty aghast. She could never harbor any idea about breaking up with friends.

She would not be friends with anyone who was considering breaking-up with any friend. "I thought we were friends" was all that she could say.

Having been "fired" by one, and having "fired" another, I am ready to be judged. So here is the story : -

One particular fine morning after I had completely resigned myself to the fact that I had to choose between my best-friend, who always bested me in front of girls, and girls themselves, I got a call from him.

"Hey manny! I want to make up for all that I did to you. I am sorry bud. Not my fault really. Perhaps girls simply love me. But I promise this time. I will stay out of it.

There is this girl I met at the party today. She is really hawt! I think you will love her. I know it is a blind date, but you must trust me this time, buddy!"

Well, the idiot that I was, I took the offer, and went out to Joey's pub at 9:00 p.m. The girl showed up and Oh my dear...well, I had promised my imaginary friend I had when I was 6, that I would never swear.

So, she was the definition of...er...there is no delicate way to put this...you know...hotness (Oh no! this is not going into "Guilty Pleasures"!).

I will leave out all the paraphernalia. We started conversing with each other and the conversation veered off to...you are right, Tennis!

She loved Federer. I liked him. I never really loved anybody that way. For that matter I liked Nadal more than Federer.

Remember this: there is nothing that pisses off a fanatic lady fan of Federer than learning that her BF is a Rafa fan. They use Logic, Gossips and sometimes Conspiracy Theories to first discredit your loyalty and then end any semblance of a relationship that is in existence between you two.

She started psycho-analysing me : -

"What do you like, good things or bad?"

"I sort of ... um ... "

"Cut out the crap. Give me a one-word answer."

"Good things."

"So if you like good things, relatively speaking, you like better things than good things. Am I right?"

My teeth started chattering at this point. "Right..I said."

"Who do you think is a better player? Roger or Rafa?"

"By some criteria Rafa, and by some other Roger."

"Ok assume that you consider all sorts of such criteria possible. Now take the total number of times Roger would be better across all of them, and the number of times Rafa is across all of them. Whose number is bigger?"

Her look sort of hypnotized me into saying, "Roger."

What? The whole of Joey's Pub was shaking and it is even said that at that time, the studio where they shoot F.R.I.E.N.D.S. had some power glitches.

"That's it, you are a hypocrite!" I could vaguely discern that she was trying to prove something. But it was quite clear, perhaps due to the instincts I had developed over the ages, that this relation was over before it had started.

Just as I was easing into my normal miserable state which I assume when I lose GFs, as if to top the icing with a red-cherry, I heard a banter from the table nearby.

"Federer is the best...hic...he is the Greatest of All times. I will give you this link - read my...hic...latest article on...hic...Roger..."

This from a man who never liked Federer more than Johny Mac! (Yeah it is like Johny Mac = Rahath).

The rest of the story, well, he walked out with my fantasy!

I don't think accidental needs a redefinition.

----------------------------

I learnt that day that people could be even madder than how much people think I am.

B/R Tennis Creatures Watch USO Finals (Humour)

antiMatter — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 02:16:41 -0400

Roddick was walking out into the Court. He had come up short by the breadth of a hair four times after that Wimbledon finals.

And only the previous day had some nut-job, having found his mobile number by some means only he knew, had called him and talked at length over about some new "Law of Physics" having something to do with his losses against Roger. It seemed that he would continue to lose against this man, unless some extra-ordinary scenario occured.

Rod did try cutting the call, but could not - he was told that a new version of a Jamming Device was available which could, instead of cutting off your calls, jam your device into not cutting a particular call.

Having put that at the occurrence back of his mind, he decided to concentrate on the match. He looked all over the crowd, just to ease into the atmosphere, and one particular group caught his attention.

All of them were wearing a T-shirt with the logo in the photo shown here. He studied the group with some interest. They were sitting in two rows - each row having over ten-fiteen people. He had never before seen them among his fans, or Roger's fans for that matter.

He noticed that they had booked a seat in the middle of the front row among them, and put a board on it with the picture of a question mark! They seemed...crazy!

His attention was first drawn towards a girl who was looking at Roger intensely. She was ecstatic, the "Oh my God" sort of ecstasy. She was following Roger closely, every movement of his, and all sorts of awed expressions passed over her face. Rod felt like shouting out, "get a grip, gal, the guy is married and has kids!"

He then saw a man, looking at him with some amusement and sarcasm (Sar-Casim?). Though his smile seemed innocent in some way, Roddick felt a chill in his spine when the face of the man morphed itself into the face of Heath Ledger in Batman, in his mind's imaginary eyes.

A couple caught his attention next - a girl and an older lady sitting in the bottom row of the group. The girl had a copy of Harry Potter, and she had a black-stick pointed at him, and she was reading something from the book. The older lady looked a bit mature - not all that mature of course - and had a broom in her hand. Rod felt like saying, "Do these people still exist!"

At the exact opposite side on the same row, Rod saw another one looking at him with "pleasurable consternation and consternated pleasure"**. She had the looks of a poetess - Kelly? Oh! Rod just remembered that he had gotten whacked in the back in school for thinking Kelly was female. Anyway, she looked all, "literary." He didn't gel with those guys. Why speak in twisted similies and metaphors when you could say the same thing in plain English!

Another bloke was sitting on the back-row of the group having a small table in front of him. The table had beer cans arranged in eight rows of eight. Rod sensed that though this guy used to have beer a lot, he had started on this scale only very recently. Looking at him, Rod could not help thinking that he belonged to the front row seat with the question mark. Perhaps he used to be there up front and moved to the back only recently. Perhaps the drinking was connected with this.

He then saw a lady sitting close to the middle of the group having a laptop, a calculator and a sheaf of papers in front of her. She was frantically calculating some thing and was talking over the phone to someone else, perhaps arguing. In between she was looking at him through a telescope. He could not but help thinking that it would be amusing to see the nut-job and this lady argue.

He saw then another guy who looked at him benevolently, as if to say, "Man, you lost on many occasions, but don't be sad. You are a true champion. The fighting is more important than the winning, no?" The guy was also frequently looking for someone in the commentary box. Johny Mac? Nah, he looked like a goody-two-shoes and he and Mac won't go together.

Then he saw a banner that took his life away!

.....................__________________________________.-.................................................... ...................//............................................__________|....H..A..T..E....Y..O..U....R..O..D...... ..................//...........______________________/................................................................. .................//.........../....||(...)./............................................................................................. ................//.........../.___\\__/.............................................................................................. ...............//........../..........................................................................................................

A girl was waving that banner at him furiously with all the hatred in the world.

Then he saw that man! He looked dead-serious. Seemed like a Tennis Player. He had the penetrating eyes of an analyst. Suddenly he heard voices in his head, as if that man was speaking to him. "Go to the Zone Roddick! If I could be in the Zone, you can be too! I couldn't beat my Clayton. But I believe you can!"

The word, "Zone" reverberated in his head. He started feeling a surge of adrenalin. He looked at Federer with the eyes of a Killer.

The rest, as they say is history.

After the match, Roddick wanted to talk to the nut-job and have a laugh at him. But seemed the nut-job had jammed his own mobile. He was never to be heard of again. There are stories that he annihilated himself with some antiMatter.

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* The picture for this article is from reredeF0regoR's profile. Thank you Maryam!

** Phrase borrowed from "The Name of the Rose" by Umberto Eco