Roger Federer: Please Listen to Me

Dear Roger,


I should have paid heed to the age-old wisdom of watching my words when I expressed sympathy with Rafael Nadal after the French Open Final. I thought he was content being the greatest No. 2 player in the history of the game. I suppose you thought so too.

Looking back, the warning bells rang in the 2007 Wimbledon final, when he took you to five sets. Granted, the courts at Wimbledon are getting slower. I am told this is a deliberate tactic—slower courts mean longer rallies and, hopefully, more interest in tennis. No one is talking about the declining quality of play at Wimbledon. Let's also admit that we underestimated Rafa by assuming he was happy with the tag of clay-court specialist, shall we?

After the disappointment at Melbourne and the humiliation at Roland Garros (forgive me, but I still cannot erase the memory of the final set), I was looking forward to redemption at Wimbledon. When you lost those first two sets, I was ready to flee to the Swiss Alps. As the third set started, one thought played repeatedly in my mind—Oh God, please do not let him lose in straight sets, please God, please.

Luckily, God heard our collective pleas, and you drew upon your deepest reserves to fight off the challenger. Your scorching backhand pass when Rafa held match point in the fourth set will remain a part of “Federer Magic Moments” tales to my grandchildren. When you pushed the match into the fifth, I was screaming with joy—The Emperor was not going to cede his crown easily, and I was already celebrating a record-breaking sixth title.

Oh, what a heart breaker the last set was. Just as you seized the momentum after the first rain break, the pendulum appeared to shift towards Rafa after the second rain interruption. I suppose you were taken by surprise—for who before this gutsy Mallorcan had dared to battle so long and so hard against The Great One? And he did it at you spiritual home!

But we consoled ourselves. Perhaps it was fair to The Prince, given how well he had fought these two years. Did you sense that the tide was turning against you? I have to admit that I did not.

Things just seemed to get worse from there; did they not? Suddenly, you were losing to the likes of a much-improved Andy Murray and Giles–who-Simon. The very people who had idolized you now called for your head: "He’s lost the fire, he should just retire graciously while he’s on a high."

Comparisons with Bjorg were ominously invoked. I am sure you laughed at their folly—forgive them for they know not about perfection. Yes Roger, Ed Smith was bang on when he said that your motivation is mastery not competition. Unfortunately, this may also be your greatest liability against the fiercely-competitive Rafa.

It could have been so easy for you to give up. I have often wondered—what does a gymnast do when she realizes one morning that her body no longer bides her command; what does the marathoner do when his feet do not obey his exhortations to run faster?

The fire is still there, but the Midas touch has been cruelly snatched away. The gods had blessed you, but suddenly, just before the coronation, they decided to look the other way.

But then, these are the obstacles that separate the boys from the men, are they not? And forgive us silly mortals Roger, but we love triumph in the face of adversity. And for the greatest glory, a few tumbles and a couple of injures makes the tale so much more entertaining. If you win it all too easily, like you did, we are a bit disappointed (and jealous). We attribute it to good luck, choosing to ignore the extraordinary effort that you had put in over the years to hone your phenomenal talent.

But throw in a slice of bad luck, a run of losses, and we are back to loving you again. "What an extraordinary talent! He should have earned 20 Grand Slams by now had it not been for Nadal," we say with misty eyes.

So, you valiantly fought on. And you celebrated the small victories when the big ones eluded you, for instance, the gold medal in doubles. You still did not look like your old self. The magical feet seemed be a trifle slower and the precision reflexes were a bit off, but you persevered. Fittingly, you got received your reward when you annihilated Novak Djokovic and Murray to win a record fifth US Open.

I was more relieved than delighted. The Great One was back. So were you. 2009 and a record-equaling 14 Grand Slam Titles beckoned.

Let us not talk about the Australian Open Final, shall we? Let us not talk about faith misplaced, the ogre in your head, and your mortality. But, dear Roger, the facts are these:

I know you want to reclaim your No. 1 ranking, but it is going to be exceedingly difficult if not impossible. It will not happen with Rafa’s current form and Murray, Djokovic, and the young set breathing down your neck.

You are 27 years old, which five years older than Rafa. In a sport that gets younger each year, you are a veteran (albeit a much-loved and much-revered one).

Undoubtedly, you are the most inventive player in the history of the game. But the Rafa Cavalry can read your game, and if they cannot match you on beauty, they can overcome you with raw power. More importantly, they are not in awe of The Great Federer. They step on court to beat you not to give you a good fight.

You can still win many more Grand Slams, including the French Open. Though, I do not see you beating Rafa to win it, and it kills me to admit this! You are physically fit; you look better than last year; and you still have the fire and desire for ascendancy.

But Rafa has improved his game more than you in the last two years. True, your game is almost perfect, and your biggest strength has always been that you have no apparent weakness. But The Mallorcan draws out the devil in you, does he not?

Over the last year, you have looked uncertain against him in both your tactics and your execution. Should you try and bring him more to the net? Maybe, but certainly not at the French Open. Should you try and outlast him from the baseline? But you like finishing your games quickly, so you usually run out of patience before he does.

As a result, you have failed to capitalize on precious opportunities and repeatedly allowed him to wrest the game away from you. In short, you have let him do to you what you have done numerous times over your breathtaking career.

So, is there no solution to the Rafa conundrum? Of course there is. But acknowledging that there is a problem is the first step towards addressing it. And I get the feeling right now that you are simply not willing to admit that. Possibly for the first time in your life, you are faced with a challenge that you cannot unravel on your own.

So, why not forget the No. 1 ranking, why not focus on the Grand Slams and get some help while you are at it? Why not get a good coach that you can stick with for a while?

Why not visit a shrink who can help bury the demons? Many years ago, you and Marat Safin had two things in common—prodigious talent and a volatile temper. You sought professional help at the start of your career and look where you are now compared with the equally-talented Russian.

And why not borrow a lesson or two from your opponents, especially the one that reads “Don’t give up?"

There is nothing any tennis lover wants more than to watch you play forever. And we would much rather see you surprise the challengers with your beauty and guile than hear your views on the WTA rankings. Bring back the belief and the glory will follow.