hmmmmmmmph

Was she sad? Or angry? Maybe it was a combination of both along with a good sprinkling of upset, thoughtful, analytical and so much more. Why did she feel so every time? Why did she get her hopes up? Why did she think that this time was it, this time he would pull through. Somehow.

The first two sets flew by but he somehow managed to squeak out the 3rd. Serving behind in the 4th, she knew that it wasn't going to be easy. And it went exactly how she thought. One break was all it took.

Truth be told, the far better player won. As a Federer fan, she found it very hard to even acknowledge that. When she first began to watch him, she always wondered at how amazing he was and how no one would ever be able to get to where he was. He was even more stylish than her childhood hero Sampras!

The truth hurt but one thing was for sure. Not many will come along who will play like him. That cracker of a serve down the T, the scintillating single-handed backhand down the line passing shot, that unforgettable forehand drive volley and those lucky-to-bounce even once drop shots, and that genial nature--memorable beyond memory.

The Djoker had the last laugh today. Well, he's been laughing for some time now and that annoyed her to no end. It seemed like a long time since their first meeting at a Grand Slam final and it took Fed all of 1.5 hours to finish him off. But today she had to admit that her dislike for him was only because he had routinely been taking Federer to school.

Someone asked her why he didn't retire and she wanted to scream and say, "Why should he when he's easily making the semis of a Grand Slam?" but she held back and said, "Maybe this year", while she thought, "Nah, there will be one more time."

9/1/2002

New York and September said in the same breath often bring back memories of the twin towers -- 9/11/2001. But not for me. 9/1/2002 is what I remember, because that's the day I saw my two idols Pete Sampras and Roger Federer at the US Open.

It was my first time at the Open and I had grounds passes for fourth round play. As tempting as it was to buy an Arthur Ashe stadium ticket to watch the top seeds in action, my inner voice reasoned, "Why should you pay so much to sit so close to the heavens?". Ah, the smart inner voice saved me at least $40 then but that wasn't all as I would find out later. So there I was, armed with a $20 pass to roam around the USTA Center at Flushing Meadows all day long.

What started off as a bright, sunny day when I left my home in not-too-far-away Connecticut turned into a cloudy, grey cover that threatened to burst at any moment. No amount of hoping and praying could hold off the rain in. It began to pour around noon and it was relentless. I hallucinated that I were at Centre Court Wimbledon, at that Cliff Richards were singing but no! It was only piped music -- Nelly's 'Hot in here', Enrique Iglesias' 'Hero' and I think there was some Shakira, too. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. No one was enjoying the party and organisers finally announced that if rain didn't let up by 5 pm, play would be called off for the day and ticket money refunded.

There were loads of sighs, "I can't believe this shit" and much worse expletives. Deciding to have some fun on an otherwise gloomy day, I walked out to the refreshment stands to get a beer. I wish I could say that I bumped into Sampras and Federer while at the stands but no, that's not what happened. It was something even better. In a sheer moment that can make one believe in many things unbelievable, the rain slowed to a light drizzle and the sun came out, first slowly peeping from behind the clouds, and then in all its glory!

Dare I hope?

No, not yet but there was a sudden flurry of activity -- covers removed from the courts, water sucking machines (or were they vacuum cleaners of some sort?) doing their thing, ball kids with towels wiping everything they possibly could -- and the crowd was slowly getting back into it, cheering everyone and everything on. I ditched my beer and rushed to the Louis Armstrong Stadium, or was it the Grandstand court (they are adjacent to each other), which was starting to fill up and grabbed a seat in the front row near the service line, just watching and taking it all in. In some time, the announcements about court assignments began, and that's when the excitement kicked up another notch.

Usually, the schedule of play including which courts would feature which players is published ahead of time but because everything was so delayed due to the rain, the backlog was massive and there were readjustments galore. Even the top seeds weren't safe inside Arthur Ashe stadium. I only cared about one match -- Pete Sampras' very delayed third round against Greg Rusedski -- and when it was called for the court where I sat, I knew that it was my reward for having turned my back on the beer!

I didn't know how much longer Sampras, my 2nd tennis idol after Ivan Lendl, would continue to play. Rusedski had said that Sampras seemed a step too slow before the Open began and I remember wanting to punch his face if I ever came close to it, and here was my chance! Well, I could at least heckle him, couldn't I? Nervous excitement filled me, much like when I used to ready up for my matches, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Amidst all the music and announcements, all of a sudden the players walked out on court, Rusedski first waving to everyone followed by Sampras with his usual half smile and bent head. I had tears in my eyes -- not sure if it was the emotions or the pain from the pinch I had given myself to confirm that I wasn't dreaming. Sampras hit one perfect serve after another and volleyed with such precision that I felt like it was going to be his year again, irrespective of what the critics said. I don't remember how long they played, but I had screamed myself hoarse in the 4 sets that it took for Sampras to win. Sadly, I didn't get a chance to punch Rusedski's face; even first row seats court side didn't get me that close.

The many non-stadium courts that make up the USTA Center had matches of top seeds aplenty. Lleyton Hewitt, the defending champion, was playing Jiri Novak. I watched for a bit but even Hewitt's fist pumps and "Come on!", couldn't keep my attention. My thoughts kept drifting back to the match that had just finished. So I got out of there and headed to the refreshment stand, and on the way passed by a board that said M. Mirnyi versus R. Federer. I had watched Mirnyi (who was called the Beast) at another tournament and found his serves to be deadly and ground strokes really smooth but Federer, I had heard of only in passing.

Must've been serendipity. The players had only then come in for a changeover and the ushers were letting the crowd get in and out. So I walked in and sat on the bottom most steps of the gallery. The instant I watched Federer serve, I knew I had found idol number 3. There was no effort, it was just poetry. As I continued to watch him play, his one-handed backhand, which I have a penchant for, almost made me tear up again. Unfortunately, Federer lost that match but as the cliche goes, won many hearts that muggy summer night with his genial smile, cute pony tail and razor sharp game.

As I had predicted (to myself), Sampras went on to win that year and Federer had to wait until 2004 for his first US Open title.

I've often wondered what would've happened if it hadn't rained that day and play wasn't delayed. What if I were a Hewitt fan and had stayed to watch his entire match with Novak therefore missing seeing Federer play? And what if I had got tickets to Arthur Ashe stadium instead of just the grounds passes? I would've been closer to the heavens but wouldn't have seen the Gods!

It's taken me 13 years to document this experience, and it was largely inspired by Rahul Jacob's article titled 'The joys of being a McEnroe and Federer fan' in the Business Standard, June 27 2015.

Alternate reality...or a wish?

She racked her brains really hard. She just couldn’t figure out what to write about. She had many thoughts…too many, actually. What could she write about that would be interesting for someone else to read? Could she write about incidents from her past or events that were currently going on in her life? What if they thought it were boring? What about something relating to her children? That always seemed interesting to her!  But what if they thought it wasn’t funny at all! And then she thought for a second…what if she closed her eyes to see if there was some inspiration? A wise person whom she loved dearly had once told her to try this if she ever faced writer’s block.

She sat on her chair and closed her eyes. And just like that, thoughts came floating in and out...
A bright orange coloured all day sucker! It was so big that it almost covered her face entirely! It smelt divine and tasted even better. She pictured herself licking it greedily, the juice dripping down her cheeks making them all sticky. Just as she thought that she could write about that, another thought flashed in her mind.

She was on Center Court at Wimbledon! No, not a ball girl but she was on the court itself playing against her hero Pete Sampras! She stood behind the baseline about to receive his serve. Funnily though, she wasn’t grimacing at the expected ‘thwack’ that could’ve ploughed through a metal wall! She was grinning…goofily even! So excited at the thought of walking to the net at the end of the match and shaking his hand…or even hugging him! There was something she could write about…the mixture of emotions that were going through her, right? DING DONG! DING DONG! She opened her eyes and got out of her chair with a start! She rushed off downstairs to answer the door. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped down low! Who should stand there but Pete Sampras holding a bright orange coloured all day sucker!!!! The first thought that crossed her mind? “Wait till I go back to my computer and write about this!”

10 things I don't like about Nadal

I've been watching tennis for ages now. Seen all the rivalries over time. My favourites have changed...Lendl to Sampras and now Federer. While Lendl and Sampras lost regularly to many players, I've never ever detested (hated, abhored etc...) any of the players that they lost to. Maybe that's because they never lost to anyone as consistently as Federer has lost to Nadal. Even then, I just can't understand why I have such a strong feeling of dislike towards him. I need to clear this out of my system...so here goes....10 things that I hate about Nadal...

1. His constant constipated expression
2. His "habit"
3. His time wasting tactics
4. His game (and I'm sure this will be a point of contention with many)
5. His constant looking at his box, especially when he wants to challenge a call
6. Getting coached in the middle of matches

I can't think of any more. Can you?

PS: (The only thing I like about him is his mental toughness)

Fini

A fa(u)ltering God

Almost two years to the date that I wrote this I found myself doing the same thing: waking up at an ungodly hour to watch the US Open Finals. The difference was that this time I didn't go back to bed as the match didn't end as quickly. Neither did Federer win.

Strangely enough though, I don't feel upset in any way. Maybe because Federer has accomplished what he was destined for earlier this year; completing his career Grand Slam and breaking Sampras' record for most majors. Maybe because Federer himself didn't seem upset about having lost. Maybe because tennis as a sport needs some new faces. Maybe...

Magician, artist, dare i say god?- Part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

For almost the entire 4+ hours, he didn't seem like any of those. The opponent did. Breaking His serves, hitting incredible passes and playing spectacular. But in the end, the tennis Gods favoured Him and history was made at the first opportunity. No tears this time, just plain relief. And humility. Understanding that the match could have gone the other way, that's what makes a true champion. Not taking things for granted and fighting till the end.

As a Sampras fan, I watched the match with mixed feelings. Records are made to be broken, so said Sampras himself. The child in me wished to see Sampras' name stay up there along with Federer's but the tennis fan in me was ecstatic. Mixed feelings. But no longer. Federer will win many more majors I'm sure and I want to say that His record will stand the test of time.

But I'll refrain for that's what I and many more said about Sampras'.

Magician, artist, dare I say God? - Part 3

Part 1
Part 2
Some stories will never end. There will always be a new chapter every so often. This one, its almost the perfect story. A dream run that ended in triumph. A well-deserved victory too. So said the conquered. All of them.

True champions fight all odds and come out on top especially when they are most doubted. Setting new standards, raising the bar to even greater heights is what is left now. I hope it happens in the next few weeks. The place where it all began.

Good luck.

Magician, artist, dare I say God? - Part 2

I wrote Part 1 September 2007. Unfortunately part 2 is a whole year later. A bad year for Federer by his standards; exit in 1 Grand Slam semi-final, runner up in the next 2 (although badly thrashed in one) and finally a winner at the last. Based on the last couple of years, number 15 will hopefully come about at Wimbledon. That's where Sampras beat the record as well. Federer respects tradition. He will do the same. I hope he's saving the best for it.

Oh for the love of sports

I'm a sports junkie. I think I've always been one. First it was tennis, then basketball, then most events during the Olympics, even American football! I have favourite players, favourite teams, favourite team uniforms and so on. As much as I love to watch sports on TV, it is with mounting levels of tension that I watch my favs perform. Today was one such day. My heart skipped many beats as I watched a not-so-perfect Federer pull out a victory after 4 1/2 hours to move into the fourth round of the Aussie Open. When I was younger (ahem) Pete Sampras caused many palpitations in my heart. And always the Lakers. I always thought that as I aged (ahem ahem) my involvement would reduce and maybe I could just watch the game for the game; just enjoying it and not sitting there biting my nails wondering at the outcome and doing silly superstitious things that might make my favs win.

But some things just don't change. How nice!

Magician, artist, dare I say God?

I woke up at 3:30 am this morning and was back in bed by 5:00 am. Perfect. Just as I had planned. I knew I didn't have to be awake longer than that to see Roger Federer win his 12th Grand Slam title. It wasn't his best performance by far, but enough to get him within 2 grand slam titles of Pete Sampras' all time record of 14. Sampras was my idol growing up. When he won the U.S Open in 2002 and took his tally to 14 Grand Slam titles in all I remember thinking, like many others did, that it would be a long time before anyone even came close to it. It takes so much dedication, hard work and sacrifice to be able to sustain such high levels of play year in and out. It didn't seem like anyone had what it took. How wrong we all were.

Same time next year, Roger may well have tied the record or even broken it. It's scary that he will be a good 5 years younger than Pete if it happens next year. Makes one wonder how many more he will pile up. With such great talent and so much more time on his hands, there are amazing heights that he could scale.

In the era of hard hitters, double-fisted backhands and oversize racquets, its such a pleasure to watch someone that shows that one needs more than power alone to come out on top constantly. As a die-hard tennis fan, I'm just happy that I'm blessed to be watching him at his peak. Good luck Roger and thanks for making watching tennis a pleasure again.