Rewind 2007: A Tryst With a Non-Tennis Destiny

Technically, this ain't one of those quaint memory-ish articles, where the reader gets nostalgic just by reading the title and gets dragged and tempted to read the entire content which further throws him against a backdrop of a different era altogether.

But this one match is special to me; more special than any other match I have viewed as a fan of the sport and Roger Federer as the beloved.

Ironic, isn't it? The man to whom I pledged my support that day lost it to a player who I loathed from the minute I set my eyes on him.

Re-Rewind:

In order to reach the graduation ceremony of my tennis detesting to tennis adoring class I must first begin with how I used to despise the game; a hatred borne out of naivety and innocence because of lack of TV pastime.

The hatred grew and grew, coupled with confusion in the perceiving of the game which initially used to be something like: "This guy from this side of the net hits and the other guy misses which means that 'This- side- of- the- net- guy' gets the point."

And if there was an unforced error which meant that in spite of 'This-side-of-the net-guy' [later on I comprehended that it meant "Near side of the court"] hitting the ball, the opposite player would get the point, I never really figured how that was possible!

At that time it seemed to me as if these players had all the possible time in the world to go on hitting the ball and it irritated me to no end.

I used to yell at the broadcasters to show something productive instead of these "Big" boys and girls wearing shorts and t-shirts, which meant nothing; at least to me!

My father, my poor father who loved tennis- tried and tried explaining the rules to me and I, used to listen attentively for perhaps half-a-second and then my mind would be a butterfly.

Sometimes now that I reflect on those times, I feel he must have felt like strangulating me and the only reason behind him not taking the decision would have been nothing but acute paternal love.

Murderous looks for my "These-dumb-weirdos" expression plus glares to my yelling and crankiness, it sure should have been living hell for him.

To shut me up, he used to talk about the greatness of Becker or Sampras or Agassi and I used to give him: "Big Deal, what the hell do I care" facial composition!

No, it didn't help matters though thankfully as the years progressed and I grew up and we procured the Dish TV connection; tennis became a secondary issue.

It ignored me and I reciprocated with double the love. Cricket was the hype and Cricket was the mantra which I was happy to follow like a cult.....

Time and Circumstance Change:

The year was 2007: The year when I had the mammoth task of completing my graduation with flying colours [it's a wrong phrase "Flying Colours" after the results are out, parents are still not satisfied let alone allowing you to fly!]; the year when it was all about college and classes and then a few more classes.

It was one such classes trip that made me snap and in utter desperation turn towards my least favoured sport.

In fact a match between [The] Federer and [some] Youznhy; the name was a tongue-twister, the game- A rectangular labyrinth with a net in between, that started it all for me...

Yeah, I had heard of Federer alright; he was the guy who kept on winning everything [when you get prizes in quiz competitions, you are supposed to display some general knowledge on sports that you don't even equate with]; the only problem was I didn't know how he looked like and what he actually played like!

No....No...wait, there was another problem cropping up; this Federer fellow was really playing well and I realised that the news channels [they were the one responsible for me to remember Federer's name] weren't exaggerating at all.

That was it! I didn't know what to do; the Federer fellow was playing real hard and the Youznhy was giving a tough competition to him. My heart [girls and their hearts] started to align towards the Swiss [ I tell you at first it was only looks and nothing else; what else should have been there? I didn't know the head and tail of the game!] and sub consciously I started to wish that he would win.

There was some magical quality about him, he wasn't very expressive for one nor was he very rough with his shots. Whatever he did that day, it was with a sublime grace and a series of lithe movements- like a cheetah hurtling towards its prey after stalking it for most of the day!

And I... I just couldn't quite fathom what was making me root and support for him!

When he won in the end, I was as happy as I had bagged a Nobel prize for Tennis Literature and as though he could personally acknowledge it, I forced my father to give me a beginners guide to the game once again, though this time I was like a butterfly coming out from a cocoon of ignorance, instead of a butterfly searching in vain for nectar where it isn't available!

And then....what do you think I did?

I forgot about it; just forgot about tennis, about Federer and about my tennis lessons [though I had managed to inputise 99% of the rules by then]; exams were around the corner [in India students are well versed with the concept of exams, how else do you justify the student populace of millions?] and I had to pass them with the same old- "Flying Colours!"

Divine or "French" Intervention:

Exams got over...life was almost back to normal and since "Normalcy" means plopping in front of the Idiot Box with all those crispies; I did the same thing and accidentally pressed "Star Sports!"

And there was he again: Roger Federer, though this time he was playing against someone else called "Rafael Nadal."

However, there appeared to be some difference in the Federer I had seen previously and the Federer who was battling it today. I wasn't an expert [ I would have been the last person Peter Bodo would have come asking for pointers] but still there was something lacking in his game: Maybe a killer instinct which to my displeasure was amply seen in the Rafa fellow.

He was pumping his fist, saying something [it was "Vamos"] which I couldn't grasp and giving Federer "If looks could kill" stares. The way he was executing every thing, it was as if he had come prepared for a Third World War.

And Federer: He was meek and in spite grabbing the second set, it was somehow clear that Rafa would win the match ultimately; and it got me thinking how a World No. 1 could be so like what Federer was that day.

But at the same time, even though Federer appeared meek and vulnerable there was that magical thing shining again like a blinding flash, a sort of beacon guiding me to his harbour of tennis.

To me, as I picture the scene over and over again in my mind's eye now, it's Roger Federer's fluidity and loping grace that comes over and over though there was still a part of my brain which felt weird that given the hype that news channels were generating about Federer's greatness and his potential to equal a "Bjorn Borg's" record, I was very apprehensive as to whether he was just a media scapegoat instead of a brilliant player.

At that moment, I didn't think of predicting about his outcome at Wimbledon [I wasn't that experienced], though my father- a veteran when it came to spotting talent [in Federer's case he was already a known entity] predicted that he would definitely win that record fifth Wimbledon.

I neither questioned it nor did I oppose it but all that while, my mental concentration was to pray that Federer wins Wimbledon whenever that would take place and that I would get a glimpse of his game once again....

Conclusion:

The desire that Roger Federer fuelled in me after he lost the French Open to Rafa, has not abated yet; on the contrary, it has spawned- grown leaps and bounds from match to match, year to year and slam to slam!

In fact to admit frankly, I have to say that I didn't get the feeling of a void, no feeling of numbing pangs when Federer lost 2007 French Open though it seems it actually acted as a catalyst [unwantedly so] in the days to come!

Two years down the line, so many things have changed; no more college, no more "Flying Colours" category exams and etc..etc.. but one thing has not changed; The devotion and the passion that Roger Federer ignited in me for the sport and most, most importantly: In him as a player!

I mean, if a man can change a lifelong atheist into an ardent devotee, then that's something monumental and worth appreciating, though sadly putting them as mere words is the least I can reciprocate with!