Roger Federer — The Performer
Tennis is the sort of sport that puts you in the middle of a huge stadium with thousands of people watching. And it’s just you. You have put yourself through intense physical and mental training for years to get here. You have listened to your coach a dozen times before the match about the technical adjustments you have to make in order to play against this particular opponent on this particular day on this particular court and then, all of a sudden, it’s just you out there in the middle — on this side of the net. It’s just you. Every point, and every point comes right after the last one. You talk to yourself. You question your decision to play that last shot. But you don’t have time to find answers. You come back strong to win the next one or make another mistake. There is a constant pressure, with no margin, no shadow, and nowhere to hide.
Professional tennis is brutal.
It is true that Rafa Nadal and Novak Djokovic, two of the greatest tennis players, are great enough to make this such a point of fevered discussion among tennis fans, as to why they are the best at this brutal sport. They even have numbers to prove. But there is something about Roger Federer that made him arguably superior than these two on and off the court. Nadal and Djokovic offered contrasting styles in their manner and execution, playing the same game in the same space as Federer did, but it somehow never felt the same. Yes, Federer had a naturally complete game, which, inarguably, the other two do not have. But we remember Federer as the greatest for the way he made us feel.
Roger Federer did not play tennis. He performed on the court. He is one of those rare players who was not just the best player in the world, but also the most pleasing to watch player in the circuit. He had plenty of charm and grace and with his styling, his deep, piercing eyes, and the balletic grace in his movements, he was a unique tennis player, the only player who seemed to move easily through the air. A Federer shot was the way these things were combined with competitive will, power, shot selection, and most importantly, accuracy. And he did it all with an element of vulnerability. You could feel it when he approached the ball and waited for it. You felt his vulnerability in spite of all his elegance and knew anything could happen when he went for a shot. He shed tears when he won. He was brave enough to shed tears when he lost. And he made you feel the moment with him and for him.
Federer often said “It’s nice to be important but it’s more important to be nice.” He made this out to be his career motto. It was not just about how he conducted himself on the court. He once redid a lengthy interview after the interviewer found out his recording device had malfunctioned. He often brought pizzas to the ball kids and made it a custom to leave courtesy drivers at tournaments tickets for his matches. In short, Roger Federer brought joy to his workplace. He was a normal guy who was trying to be nice to people around him in the locker room, on and off the court, and as much as he could. His family traveled with him. Almost always. His parents were regular fixtures and they were entertained and amused as much as we all were, by the mystical shots he produced on the court. They were usually the first ones to cheer for the opponents, and their families in the box, when Federer lost. We all remember watching his wife, Mirka, a former player herself, anxiously clenching her fists before crucial points, and then gracefully accepting defeats if they did not go his way. And of late, his four kids have started to travel with him as well. Federer made sure that tennis was not all this brutalist hellscape and made us feel that one could surround himself with constant joy.
I am not sad that he has announced his retirement. I mean, simple time and human wear-and-tear logic had told us that Roger Federer would stop playing the sport at some point of time. That he managed to give us these 3–4 years of additional joy and hope was a bonus.
Federer won his first Grand Slam in July, 2003. Carlos Alcaraz was a 2 month old baby then. So in a strange way, it feels fitting that a player as talented as Carlos Alcaraz should win his first major in the same week Federer announces his departure. I am personally hoping Alcaraz will do wonders and will turn out to be the next big player to watch out for. If not, well, there is always more talent out there, and there will be other champions. The show will go on.
For now, Fare well, Champ!!
Chum Jetze!
