HE WHO WON'T BE WRITTEN OFF

How Roger Federer is fighting against time

Twenty years after he turned pro and an equal number of Grand Slams later, Roger Federer has proven that his ability to surprise is undiminished.

In 2017, when Federer returned after a long break, it was a chance for us to relive our best memories of him: that whipping cross-court one-handed backhand, the vintage Federer slice. Now in 2018, his sheer presence is a promise. What does Wimbledon hold in store for us, we wonder.

There was something else about Federer’s Australian Open final win last weekend: an unusual blend of razor-sharp intensity and vulnerable uncertainty. He raced to a confident first set victory, completely squandered some opportunities in the fourth, staged a clinical destruction in the fifth, and finally let his emotions run free during the ceremony. Holding back tears, he said, “I can’t believe it... but the fairytale continues.”

Neither can we. Tennis critics have been talking about the “sunset” of his career for so long that it has surpassed the tenure of his prime years. Between 2003 and 2008, Federer won 13 Grand Slams; in the seven years since, he won just four, and two of those came in 2009. In 2011, it seemed as though Federer was treading the familiar path of ageing athletes. The intervals between his victories grew longer, especially compared to 2006, when he recorded an astonishing 92 wins against five losses.

However, he remained optimistic, even when regularly losing big matches to younger players. Some of Federer’s losses were as compelling, if not more, as his wins. They were more graceful than many of his contemporaries’ wins.

The comeback was slow, but gradually it materialised. Certainly one can ruminate on the technical details of the comeback — schedule changes, racquet changes, practice routine changes. Yet there is something to be said about the single-minded, dogged motivation of the man: how much does winning mean when you’ve already won everything?

🔹Stamp of dominance

That attitude certainly seems to have paid off over a lengthy career. Federer at 36 years seized the crown in Melbourne, even as every opponent he played en route to his first Australian Open win in 2004 has retired. With this win, Federer has stamped his dominance in one era and yet stubbornly refused to leave the next.

What Federer serves up to his audiences now is not so much tennis any more, but a sense of life. There is no necessity, there is only joy; there is no urgency, only efficiency. Watching him is no longer a cliched religious experience, as David Foster Wallace said. It is more like watching a fight between him and time. Of late, it appears that Federer has managed to take control, grabbing time by its shoulder and making it dance a slow waltz with him.