Roger Federer Descending Mt. Olympus

After the match, Roger Federer glances up, aware, as always, of his immediate impact. As he glides across the surface, he remains sensitive to the crowd that follows his every move, his every gesture...

He observes the swell of humanity awaiting him on the other side of the stadium, fans leaning forward, gesturing wildly, their pens, yellow balls, pictures, programs—all ready for him to sign.

His hand sweeps across his brow, brushing back his damp hair as he smiles and moves into the gap where escape is minimal. Quickly they encircle him, seeming to swallow him whole.

This is what he does tournament after tournament, match after match, because he is inordinately grateful to his fans whose numbers swell even as this “poor” year slips away. 

They applaud his talent, his game and his dedication because his fans recognize the genius in him and realize that their participation and enjoyment of his tennis is slipping away with each passing match. 

Now they sense there is less to anticipate and more to remember because his playing days are winding down...even as they deny the possibility, quickly setting the truth aside to be considered in more reflective moments.

During the past year, fans have uncovered a new gem, a rare primary facet of Federer’s fundamental humanity now exposed as a surface of vulnerability. His losses in 2008 bared chinks in the armor—faults until now invisible within the finite Federer game. 

These flaws, fallow for so long, created a new core of understanding with fans because in trying to overcome them, they witnessed a different Federer often struggle, falter and fail. Just as they do...

The effect manifests itself in their desire to prop him up, to ease his pain and somehow will him to win. They urge him forward trying to lay those prizes he covets at his feet. 

Their intensity is palpable and he senses their urgency as he tries to live up to their expectations and his own.  

Meanwhile, Federer remains intent on fulfilling the promise of his extraordinary career, his immense talent and his unspoken commitment.

Throughout 2008 often he could not marshal enough sustained energy to regain his champion’s form completely. It was maddening to have it so near yet be unable to summon it forward at will.

Every muscle within him knew how to react—where to move; yet, he remained unable at times to recall those instantaneous responses that served him so well throughout his career.

Because of the mononucleosis, he could no longer bounce back from a bad patch. It took too much out of him and the act of trying became frustrating and debilitating. Sometimes it seemed all he could do was stand still and watch.

But Federer never gave up, and his immense courage and resolve to fight through and find his form was the hallmark of 2008. It took every ounce of his strength to rise above the rigorous restrictions imposed upon him. 

There are those who overlook the true impact of the 2008 season and Federer’s fall from the No. 1 ranking after a record 237 weeks. They argue that others have faced similar illness and injury during a career.

This is true, and it goes without saying that professional tennis and its absurd scheduling undoubtedly affects the ability of all players to recover and sustain longevity. Federer, in his 10-year career in the sport, has managed better than most to avoid serious injury or illness. 

Yes, the law of averages dealt him a blow in 2008. But concentrating on that fact alone, you miss the best part of the story because the illness, in some respects, has opened another door into the Federer psyche. 

Federer has always had an abundance of fans who admire his game, his immense talent and resilience, and most of all his ability to win against all odds and over most opponents. They placed him on a pedestal...unknowable and unreachable. He seemed too perfect to be real.

That changed in 2008, as Federer uncharacteristically failed at times. As his fans and the tennis world watched the great man struggle and fight his own body, Federer’s stance as a god began to change assimilating human frailties and foibles into the Federer mystique. 

To counter his growing frustration, Federer reached down deep and captured those emotions he had buried so long ago, unearthing his joy in playing tennis and displaying it openly for the entire world to see. 

He stomped and shook his fists and railed to the gods! We saw this rapture in Beijing, where he won the doubles with Stanislav Wawrinka. We witnessed high jinx in New York where he screamed, “Woo hoo!” after finally dispatching a blistering Igor Andreev cross court. 

He pumped himself up and propelled himself forward. He showed all the emotion he could muster. This humanization process endeared him to his fans and brought new ones into the fold.

He no longer seems distant and reserved but more like the rest of us, with a failure now and then, to mark his passing. 

For his part, Federer has never been cold and distant—it was a role he adopted as part of his on court demeanor to still and direct the intensity of his desire to win, to cap his concentration and contain his emotions.

Perhaps it is a role he shall have to assume again as he moves forward into the new year—but for his fans, the love of Federer will remain as it is now, and as they wait for 2009 to bring the man the glory he so richly deserves in their eyes...

(P.S. This is my Christmas tribute to all fans in every sport who love a man, a woman, or a team...this is my tribute to all fans who love tennis, love Federer, or any other player who moves them...fans make sacrifices, too! —jaa)