Roger
Record I'm Listening To: Marquee Moon - Television
Beer I'm Enjoying: Festival Express - Foothills Brewing
It was hours before my sixteenth birthday. Ten or eleven at night. I can’t remember exactly. What I do remember though, is fighting heavy eyelids to force myself to stay awake as fatigue and despair tried to drive me into slumber. Roger Federer was trailing two-sets-to-love in the Wimbledon final against Rafael Nadal. I’d expected that this might be the year that Rafa finally ended Roger’s incredible run on the grass in London, but hadn’t anticipated a whitewash. I thought Roger would put up a better fight, and I was almost in tears watching Nadal bully him around the court in the same way that he had in the Roland Garros final only a month earlier, in which he’d allowed Roger a paltry four games across three annihilating sets. But then, as if by divine intervention, the heavens opened, and down came the rain. Centre Court didn’t have a roof yet, so the players retired the locker room to wait it out. For the next few hours I drifted in and out of sleep while Channel 9 looked to fill the time with various highlights, interviews and even a documentary. Midnight came and went. I turned sixteen and was about the receive my present. The best tennis match I’d ever seen.
My own journey on the court was augmented by being able to play tennis as a youngster while my greatest hero was at the peak of his powers dominating the sport. I want to say that I modelled my own game on Roger Federer’s, but that wouldn’t be accurate. Although, I certainly tried. When going to hit the ball for a forehand, I hold my racket in the now outdated eastern grip, to allow for a flatter more penetrating strike. This comes at the expense of extra top spin and control that is favoured by most players today. Roger also hits his forehand with an eastern grip. That’s the extent of the similarity between our styles of play. I can say too, that I was nowhere near as cool under pressure as he is. I’ll cut myself some slack there. I was only a teenager, and Roger, as many people know, was himself very hot headed when he first turned pro. But that ability to show restraint in the face of overwhelming pressure and emotion is among my earliest memories of watching him play. Even today, when faced with high stress situations. I often ask myself, “what would Roger do?” In many ways, that’s what’s making his retirement an easier pill to swallow. I’ve only picked up a racket three or four times in the last six years. Roger’s been in and out of surgery for a lot of that time. Coincidentally, my own scaling back of court time has been in parallel with his. Not by design, it was just circumstantial. I can still sit in awe when watching him play, and I’m expecting many flashes of brilliance in his final match today. But because I’m not playing anywhere near as much at the moment, my association with the sport is not so heavily intertwined with Roger himself as it once was. For years I would lose interest in whatever grand slam or tournament was being played if Roger lost. I meant no disrespect to whoever remained, but I watched his matches with my heart on my sleeve with such an emotional intensity that I refused to watch him play with anyone except my mother. I was wound so tight, that any remotely critical remark on Roger’s performance (even if it was justified) would antagonise me beyond words. For this reason, watching tennis really just meant watching Roger Federer. It’s only as I’ve got older I’ve been able to make peace with the fact that tennis is one of the oldest sports in the world, and there have been whole generations of legendary players before Roger, and there’ll be plenty to come after.
I’ve long held the belief that the worst thing about Roger Federer are his die-hard fans. We’ve refused to make room for anyone else. Unwilling to share the top spot. Roger himself has never been concerned with his greatest rivals and friends usurping his throne and breaking his unbreakable records. But we couldn’t handle it. I’ll never forget the 2017 Australian Open final. Roger was to play Rafa, of course. Everyone had been calling for his retirement for years. “He’s too old,” they kept saying, “he’s finished.” Us die hards knew he had one more major title in him. The slogan Be18ve was all over social media among Federer fans as he chased his eighteenth major title. And sure enough, over the course of five gruelling sets that were played almost to midnight, Roger prevailed. He would go on to win Wimbledon that year too, and defend his Australian Open title in 2018.
Thinking back to the night I turned sixteen, when the rain stopped for the second time and the covers finally came off the court for the remainder of the 2008 Wimbledon final, I remember sitting on the edge of my seat in the wee hours of the morning as Roger stared down the barrel of an enormous task. Trailing two-sets-to-love, he succeeded in claiming the third in a tie break. The fourth set also went to a breaker. It is burned in my memory – the moment Nadal served for the championship at 8-7, chose to approach the net on his first forehand after the serve, and Roger crushed a backhand pass down the line to save championship point. He would win the next 2 points, sealing the breaker 10-8 and pushing the match into a fifth set. I recommend watching that tiebreak. Even now, I get tremendous anxiety when I rewatch it, despite knowing the outcome. Sadly for us Roger Federer fans, Nadal would prove to be victorious in that encounter, in what I still maintain is the best tennis match ever played. As the sun was setting in London and talk started taking place of maybe having to call the match off and resume the next day, Nadal was able to secure the fifth set 9-7. I went to bed at nearly 6am absolutely devastated one one hand, but on the other, I knew I’d just watched another epic saga in a storied rivalry in an absolutely brilliant career.
That was fourteen years ago, and I have a hundred more memories of watching my biggest hero on the court, including a barely noticeable first round match at the 2018 Australian Open, in which Mum and I got to sit in the stands, and watch the great man live. I can feel tears filling my eyes as I come to these final lines, and anticipate I’ll be a basket case later today as Roger Federer says goodbye to the professional game alongside great friend and rival, Rafael Nadal as his doubles partner. But much like reminiscing on that 2008 Wimbledon final, I, like every other die-hard fan out there, will always have those memories. What Roger has given to the sport defies belief and the professionalism in which he’s done it, is why he’s admired worldwide by tennis and non-tennis fans alike. I feel truly privileged to have lived during a time in which I was not only able to follow his entire career, but to have grown up as a young boy playing tennis while Roger ruled the sport. I’m not sure the game would have meant as much to me had I not had such an exceptional role model to idolise, and for that I’ll be forever grateful. As the sun sets on a brilliant professional career, much as it did at the close of that 2008 Wimbledon final, as hard as it will be to watch, I know I’ve bared witness to something truly extraordinary.