The Endgame

Newsletter #28 - At Roland-Garros with my friend Philippe

Toronto, June 16, 2023

At Roland-Garros with my friend Philippe

I spent last week in Paris at the French tennis open, generally known as Roland-Garros (the stadium complex where the open is played). I was there with my friend Philippe. We watched the men’s quarter-finals, semi-finals, and final. Philippe, who lives in Bordeaux, is a highly knowledgeable and enthusiastic tennis fan. He is also an excellent player. I played him once—just once—and lost horribly.

Professional tennis can be elegant. Roger Federer, now retired, epitomized that elegance. Watching Federer play was like watching ballet (see photograph below). Some other players—not all—are similarly graceful, at least some of the time. I have a soft spot, for instance, for Stan Wawrinka’s beautiful one-handed backhand.

Professional tennis is brutal as well as sometimes elegant. Singles tennis is gladiatorial. No quarter is given. One player is pitted against another. The crowd eggs them on until a victor gloriously emerges.

It can be brutal in other ways as well. Some players, not the elegant ones, routinely pound the ball from the baseline as hard as they can, hoping to wear out their opponent or trick him into an unforced error. Sometimes it seems as if that’s all they know how to do. The much-loved Rafael Nadal often plays like that. So does Novak Djokovic (not so much-loved). My friend Philippe says Djokovic, because he plays this way, is boring to watch. Philippe doesn’t like Djokovic.

Sometimes a player snaps under pressure. He may scream obscenities, smash a racket, gesticulate wildly, abuse the umpire or other officials, yell at his opponent, give the fans the finger, hit a ball into the stands. Or quietly slink away. Sometimes the fans in the stands don’t behave well either. Booing is popular. At Philippe-Chatrier, the main Roland-Garros stadium, it was odd to see soigné fans vigorously booing a player for his perceived bad behaviour or some other shortcoming.

The essential brutality of men’s tennis lies in the mathematics of five sets. If you lose the first set, then to win the match you’ll have to win three of the remaining four sets. That might seem doable. But if you lose the first two sets, you’ll have to win all of the remaining three sets. For someone who’s lost two sets already, that seems almost impossible. (It does happen occasionally. Nadal did it against Daniil Medvedev in the 2022 Australian Open. Nadal called this win his “greatest comeback.”)

Which brings me back to 2023 Roland-Garros. Philippe and I had our hopes pinned on Carlos Alcaraz, the 20-year-old Spaniard who had rocketed from nowhere to become World #1. He met Djokovic, almost twice his age, in one of the two Roland Garros men’s semifinals. Djokovic had already won 22 Grand Slams, Alcaraz only one (the 2022 US Open). Djokovic, like him or not, is a superb player with a vast tennis history.

The Alcaraz-Djokovic semi-final was highly anticipated. Perhaps history was in the making. The New York Times described the match in advance as possibly “one for the ages, a clash of generations and a potential torch passing — or really a torch-seizing — moment for the sport.” Djokovic won the first set, although he looked shaky. Alcaraz won the second set. My friend Philippe was excited. “The momentum is with Carlos,” he said, giving me a fist bump. Fans in the stands were chanting “Vamos Carlitos!”

But early in the third set Alcaraz fell apart, incapacitated by muscle cramping brought on by nervousness. Djokovic easily won the third and fourth sets. The New York Times said, “It was a victory of wisdom and experience on a day when Alcaraz, in a moment of raw frankness, said he had been overcome by the idea of facing Djokovic on this giant stage.”

In the final, Djokovic played 24-year-old Caspar Ruud of Norway. Once more, Djokovic had a shaky start, but won easily in three sets. It seemed pre-ordained. The Master had prevailed. Here’s a picture of him after his victory.