Thought Crimes

It’s complicated

That’s how I would always think of how I felt about the phenomenon called Roger Federer

The otherworldly talent was obvious. I may be short-sighted, but I’ve never been blind. The languid grace was other-worldly. The knowledgeable and the n00bs, all were united in their verdict that tennis was being changed before our eyes, that we had never seen the likes of such, perhaps we never would. I stubbornly stood my ground. A childish refusal to look beyond Sampras, the hero of formative years, followed by an exaggerated adulation of Djokovic on account of ‘discovering’ him well ahead of the curve clouded my judgement. I even wrote what I thought were articulate and impassioned pieces on how Sampras > Federer. Now I read them and agree that we were all idiots once.

It eventually took the 2017 win in the Australian over his great nemesis for me to accept, what I should have a long time ago, what a part of me probably always knew but refused to concede. We had never seen the likes of such, perhaps we never will. Life is supposed to teach you to be open to overcoming long-held convictions; Federer did the job so much better. In a sport where 30 had long been considered an age ripe for retirement, here was one closer to 40 with a will to win as indomitable as ever, who refused to yield to the vicissitudes of time, who had finally exorcised the ghosts of that moment 8 years ago that had seemingly rendered him incapable of speech, and who in doing so, was forging the path to immortality before our very eyes. Had he ever even been mortal?

Elite sport, when lucky, is blessed with 2 kinds of exponents. There are the gifted geniuses, like Federer or Messi, who seem to have been born to play their sport. Who reduce it to its most elemental and effortless form. Your brain tells you that there was blood, toil, tears and sweat that went into what you see; you want to believe that this was just poetry written in a flash of inspiration. And there are the super athletes: the Nadals, Djokovics and Ronaldos, who push at all the mortal boundaries in their quest for the superhuman. The blood, toil, tears and sweat are there for all to see. The decree of God vs the will of Man: was there ever a drama more eternal. God created the sky; man conquered the moon. Yet we marvel at man, we worship God.

To say that Federer’s impact went beyond tennis or even sport is an understatement. I would argue that over the last 2 decades, Federer has become something like a universal language, a part of collective consciousness. Want to describe wonder: it is an impossible inch perfect Federer backhand. Elation? “When Federer wins, a part of me wins” as a dear friend once said. Relief after achieving something stupendous? His tears on winning a grand slam. Even the business world has embraced these Federerisms. A famous analysis to emphasize the importance of ‘where to play’ vs ‘how to win’ done by a former employer used Federer with a badminton racquet to drive home the message. I could go on. We all could. Mandarin, English, Hindi, Spanish, French, Arabic- different lists place them in different orders when it comes to the most widely spoken language; they all speak Federer.

So yes, it was complicated when it all began.

Nothing could be simpler now.

From an inquisitive Indian to a superlative Swiss; from a west London commoner to a Wimbledon Royal; from a left-handed badminton amateur to a right-handed tennis legend. From a boy who cried when he lost to a man who cries when he wins; from a father of twins to a father of twins: thank you Roger.

You transcended tennis, epitomized elegance, lyricized life and wowed the world. We had never seen the likes of you, perhaps we never will.

Let mortals have their G.O.A.T. You are a gift of God.

# posted by Saagar @ 4:25 am