I’d love to tell you that I woke up at 6:15AM Pacific Standard Time, feverishly anticipating the Wimbledon Final.
I might have prepared myself a bowl of cereal and poured a tall glass of orange juice before parking myself on the couch, willing the minutes to go by faster. I could have pontificated on Roger Federer’s legacy, wondering what kind of a match he would have had with legends such as Rod Laver, Bjorn Borg, and Pete Sampras. I would have nodded with the talking heads as they recounted how special last year’s final was, all the while wondering how a healthy Rafael Nadal would have affected Federer’s pursuit of supremacy.
But I did none of these things. Instead, I slept in, content with the knowledge that I would, in all likelihood, see the match results in box score form rather than watching them play out first hand.
I didn’t make that decision because I’d rather undergo a root canal than wake up any time in the 6:00AM hour, although I’m only half-kidding about that. No, I didn’t watch it because I honestly didn’t feel like seeing Andy Roddick lose in straight sets.
And really, can you blame me? Roddick entered Sunday with a career record of just 2-18 against Federer, including three losses in Grand Slam finals - the only ones Roddick has been to since his memorable 2001 US Open Title. Those matches usually played out in the same, demoralizing fashion; Roddick pouring every bit of gasoline upon his house-on-fire serve, only to watch helplessly as Federer cleanly and efficiently ripped his heart out in any and every way imaginable.
Indeed, it wasn’t one overriding cause as much as it was an inundation of the little intricacies of Federer’s game, fitting together like a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle. While Roddick tried to bludgeon each opponent to death with brute strength, Federer dug into his toolbox and pulled out the specific shot he needed at that moment. Backhand volley? Check. Drop shot at the net? Check. Winner down the line, pinpoint second serve, crosscourt forehand? Check, check, and check.
Try as Andy might, he couldn’t beat Roger Federer because Federer, simply put, is much, much better at the sport of tennis.
So naturally, I was intrigued when I read the simple text message my buddy Matt sent me at 9:39AM.
WAKE UP AND WATCH THE END OF WIMBLEDON.
When the TV flickered on and the numbers 10-10 stared back at me, that intrigue turned into a pleasant shock. After watching a few points and placing a phone call to my father –a former tennis teacher who knows more about the game than I know about anything – it became readily apparent that not only was Roddick holding his own with Fed, but he was actually giving the Swiss Maestro all he could handle. As Roddick later pointed out, Federer was, “for the first time ever,” struggling to return Roddick’s serve.
In fact, equally important as what Roddick was accomplishing was how he was accomplishing it. As paramount as Roddick’s serve is to his identity as a player, the improvements made to the rest of his game were what got him this far.
Here was Roddick going to net, putting away a Federer drop shot.
There was Roddick flummoxing Federer with a drop shot of his own, no doubt leaving the 14 time Grand Slam Champion wondering when, exactly, Roddick started using a drop shot in the first place.
Everywhere was Roddick, traversing the court with movement not seen since that US Open so many years ago.
Suddenly, Andy Roddick had a toolbox of his own. It wasn’t as diverse as Federer’s, but that’s hardly a fair comparison; at this point, we might as well start calling Fed “Black and Decker.” Still, Roddick put on a display that few would have thought possible, finally playing balanced tennis rather than trying to blast the ball on every shot.
As Roddick’s 27th birthday approaches, one has to wonder whether we’re finally seeing him reach maturity. He’s married now, and the only headlines he’s made off the court recently were commenting about the music in his wife’s iPod, a far cry from the days where his picture would frequent the pages of tabloids newspapers. On the court, he sucked up his pride and sucked in his gut, hiring accomplished coach Larry Stefanski and immediately obeying his request to drop 15 pounds.
Not surprisingly, that newfound focus produced results. After questioning his place in the sport just one year ago, Roddick demonstrated that he’s not only still here, but that he can hang with anyone – even against perhaps the greatest player ever.
Ultimately, Roddick couldn’t hold on at Wimbledon. But for once, a Roddick loss to Roger Federer didn’t leave us with a feeling of disappointment. Instead, it left us with hope and a promise –Andy Roddick is back to where he belongs.
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