By Ian Chadband, Chief Sports Correspondent, at Wimbledon
The Telegraph
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/
8 July 2012
Roger Federer of Switzerland holds the winner's trophy after winning his Gentlemen's Singles final match against Andy Murray of Great Britain on day thirteen of the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Championships at the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club on July 8, 2012 in London, England. (Julian Finney/Getty Images Europe)
He was not wrong. With this immaculate triumph, it is now 17 grand slams and the counting can start afresh. Laver was 31 when he played his last grand slam; Federer is coming up to his 31st birthday and, with this record-equalling seventh Wimbledon crown, has clambered back to No 1 in the world rankings again in an era when he could only have heard the constant refrain that the only way for him was down. Perhaps he has only just started again.
For, somehow, on this extraordinary afternoon when the Nureyev of the court reminded us that, in this era of the super athletes, of the Djokos and the Rafas and the Murrays, nothing is still as beguiling as an artistic genius painting perfect brushstrokes, the conversation had to rise above whether Federer was the best we had ever seen.
No, it now took in the idea, as one questioner put it to the crestfallen Andy Murray, that Federer might even belong alongside the likes of Muhammad Ali and Pele in the old argument about who is the greatest athlete of all-time in any sport. “He’s up there,” reckoned Murray, throwing in the name of Nadal too.
And why not? Watching Federer’s mastery was also to marvel just how amazing Rafael Nadal had to have been to beat him 6-2 in grand slam finals.
Yet while the Spaniard will occasionally surprisingly flounder, as he did to an unknown Czech, Lukas Rosol, in the second round, Federer just floats on timelessly and with consistent, beautiful excellence. Why, if he plays like this, couldn’t he have another lengthy spell as No1, putting Pete Sampras’s record of 286 weeks in the top spot - which Federer will equal this week - out of sight?
Everyone likes to joke on the tennis circuit about the Fed ego, about how he knows exactly, if ever so humbly, how great he is. Yet when asked if he felt he belonged in the pantheon alongside the Jordans and Alis, he genuinely tried to brush it aside.
He uses these other ‘greats’ as motivation. “Maybe Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Valentino Rossi, you name it. I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from these great athletes in other sports. They inspire me to keep pushing further. You sometimes do need to see someone else do it for a long time to feel it is actually possible.”
Sometimes, though, what Federer is doing feels impossible. Now the second oldest world No 1 after Andre Agassi, he appears to be defying time itself with his amazing grace. Now the contented dad with his twin daughters cheering him from the players’ box, he says he is in a “much more stable part of his life”. Tennis is no longer everything; he just manages to make it look as if it is.
He laughed that he played the percentages these days, that he didn’t go for the outrageous shots so often. He could have fooled us. Remember that moment in the third set when, attempting to retrieve a thunderous cross-court forehand, he flicked an incredible, instinctive half-volley on the baseline straight past his dumbfounded opponent?
Or the preposterous moment he danced round to his left and dinked a forehand drop shot from the back court so it dived over the net at an angle which defied geometry? And what about those four or five sliced drop volleys, taken at full pelt but controlled so perfectly that they spun about 60 degrees on landing?
While Murray slid and tumbled and muttered, Federer waltzed on. When Murray began to doubt during the rain break, Federer vowed only to be more aggressive. No wonder Murray cried; faced with talent like this might break anybody’s heart.
But it is not just about the divine gift, that ability to play a variety of shots at a variety of speeds and over a variety of angles so that his opponent never knows what conundrum he is going to be bamboozled with next.
No, it is also about the self-belief, the absolute self-confidence in his own gift. Roger Federer remembered last year and the loss to Jo-Wilfreid Tsonga here from an impregnable position and the defeat to Novak Djokovic when match point up at Flushing Meadows. They hurt, he said, but those “tough moments” came within performances which still convinced him the grand slams would keep coming.
And in four Sundays’ time, who would back against achieving the one ambition he covets above all others now; that is, winning Olympic singles gold in another final here. “You know, I’m playing some of the best tennis of my life,” he said. And that is the best tennis of anyone’s life.
Yet while the Spaniard will occasionally surprisingly flounder, as he did to an unknown Czech, Lukas Rosol, in the second round, Federer just floats on timelessly and with consistent, beautiful excellence. Why, if he plays like this, couldn’t he have another lengthy spell as No1, putting Pete Sampras’s record of 286 weeks in the top spot - which Federer will equal this week - out of sight?
Everyone likes to joke on the tennis circuit about the Fed ego, about how he knows exactly, if ever so humbly, how great he is. Yet when asked if he felt he belonged in the pantheon alongside the Jordans and Alis, he genuinely tried to brush it aside.
He uses these other ‘greats’ as motivation. “Maybe Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Valentino Rossi, you name it. I’ve drawn a lot of inspiration from these great athletes in other sports. They inspire me to keep pushing further. You sometimes do need to see someone else do it for a long time to feel it is actually possible.”
Sometimes, though, what Federer is doing feels impossible. Now the second oldest world No 1 after Andre Agassi, he appears to be defying time itself with his amazing grace. Now the contented dad with his twin daughters cheering him from the players’ box, he says he is in a “much more stable part of his life”. Tennis is no longer everything; he just manages to make it look as if it is.
He laughed that he played the percentages these days, that he didn’t go for the outrageous shots so often. He could have fooled us. Remember that moment in the third set when, attempting to retrieve a thunderous cross-court forehand, he flicked an incredible, instinctive half-volley on the baseline straight past his dumbfounded opponent?
Or the preposterous moment he danced round to his left and dinked a forehand drop shot from the back court so it dived over the net at an angle which defied geometry? And what about those four or five sliced drop volleys, taken at full pelt but controlled so perfectly that they spun about 60 degrees on landing?
While Murray slid and tumbled and muttered, Federer waltzed on. When Murray began to doubt during the rain break, Federer vowed only to be more aggressive. No wonder Murray cried; faced with talent like this might break anybody’s heart.
But it is not just about the divine gift, that ability to play a variety of shots at a variety of speeds and over a variety of angles so that his opponent never knows what conundrum he is going to be bamboozled with next.
No, it is also about the self-belief, the absolute self-confidence in his own gift. Roger Federer remembered last year and the loss to Jo-Wilfreid Tsonga here from an impregnable position and the defeat to Novak Djokovic when match point up at Flushing Meadows. They hurt, he said, but those “tough moments” came within performances which still convinced him the grand slams would keep coming.
And in four Sundays’ time, who would back against achieving the one ambition he covets above all others now; that is, winning Olympic singles gold in another final here. “You know, I’m playing some of the best tennis of my life,” he said. And that is the best tennis of anyone’s life.
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