What's Eating Roger Federer?

Losing in the quarterfinals of Wimbledon--or in the final eight of any major, for that matter--is hardly a sign that the sky is falling. But for Fed's faithful, including yours truly, it's not so much that Roger fell in straight sets this morning to Tomas Berdych, but it's the way he lost that was most disconcerting.

Berdych, quite simply, overwhelmed the six-time Wimbledon champion with power. The 12th-seeded Czech blasted 51 winners--22 from his forehand side--against just 23 unforced errors to blow Federer right off of Centre Court. We saw a familiar sight just last month in Paris, as big-hitting Robin Soderling repeatedly discouraged Roger with heavy artillery from the baseline to end Federer's French Open run. And last fall, we saw 6'6" Juan Martin del Potro, who owns perhaps the biggest (certainly the most powerful) forehand of them all, overpower Roger in the latter stages of their five-set U.S. Open final, a match del Potro eventually won as Feds wilted under the young Argentine's superior firepower. Thus, in three of the last four majors, Federer, who used to eat power for lunch, has gone down to three of the biggest hitters on tour.

So what happened?

Well, he's getting old for one. The other day, while watching Youtube clips of Federer's 2006 U.S. Open win over Andy Roddick, I couldn't escape noticing how well Roger used to play defense. That's what really separated him from his peers, both historic and contemporary: his uncanny ability to transition from defense to offense in an instant. Indeed, there were multiple times in that match against Roddick when Federer would be in a hopelessly defensive position, only to turn the tables with a single shot. That was the difference then.

Roger's ability to get to every ball effortlessly was also what allowed him to blunt the power of the Roddicks and James Blakes of the world. Even then, the elite counterpunchers (e.g., Rafa Nadal, David Nalbandian, a young Andy Murray), whose games were based on defense and rock-solid consistency, gave Federer trouble every once in a while. But ball mashers like Soderling and Berdych, on the other hand, had no chance. The big boppers played right into Federer's wheelhouse, where the Swiss could absorb the power and dish it right back out. In fact, neither del Potro nor Soderling had ever beaten Roger (a combined 0-17) before their recent Grand Slam breakthroughs. Berdych, too, was winless against Feds until this year, when he saved a match point to beat Roger in Miami in the spring.

But this Roger, as compared to the vintage '04-'07 model, has clearly lost a step on the court. While his serve and forehand still have the requisite pop, he's no longer an elite defensive player, as he can no longer put himself in optimal position on every ball. For instance, I had never seen Federer so out-of-sorts as he seemed today against the younger Berdych. The lanky but powerful Berdych simply hit straight through Federer, who looked every bit of his almost-29 years as he struggled to track down his opponents canon shells.

In his post-match presser, Feds complained of a bum back and sore thigh, which might partially explain his startling lack of mobility throughout the three-hour match. But the writing has been on the wall for months now, as the 16-time major champion has racked up loss after loss to players he once beat without so much as breaking a sweat. Again, this doesn't bode well for Federer or his fans, as the tour's upper echelon is getting increasingly younger and more powerful.

Or maybe the problem is less physical than it is between the ears. After all, what else is left to accomplish for the Swiss maestro, already the all-time leader in major tournament victories and universally hailed-GOAT? Pete Sampras, the erstwhile Greatest Ever, once admitted that it was hard to get up for the Cincinnati's of the world after he had set the previous record for Grand Slam wins. Federer, it seemed, had trouble even getting up for Wimbledon--supposedly the world's preeminent tennis tourney--as he struggled mightily through the first two rounds against virtual nobodies. So maybe it's that Federer is struggling with amotivation in addition to Father Time.

Still, I'm not ready to sound the death knell on Roger's career. After all, we all did this prematurely in 2008, when he was seemingly stuck for good on 12 majors. No, he is not, nor will anyone else ever be, the same player who won nearly every major outside of Paris between 2004 and 2007. He should no longer be expected to win every Grand Slam. But he is definitely a threat--he'll still be one of the top two or three contenders at each Wimbledon and U.S. Open for at least the next two or three years. And if he reaches the quarterfinals of the U.S. Open in September, he would once again accomplish something the great Pete Sampras only did once in his career: advancing to the quarterfinals or better of every Grand Slam in a single year.

With that being said, today's loss--Federer's first pre-final loss at Wimbledon since 2002--unquestionably signals the end of a glorious era in tennis history. One where The Mighty Fed ruled over his kingdom with an iron fist.

Forgive me if I yearn for the halcyon days from time to time.

-TBY

Photo Credit: Getty Images

The Shot Heard Around the World

Sometimes, I close my eyes, and I can still see it.

I remember as if it just happend a minute ago, a moment indelibly etched into my memory. The bright yellow tennis ball - perhaps kissed by fate - drawing impossibly close to the lines and falling barely six inches within the chalk-lined border framing the court. Almost as if plucked out of the air and placed in that very spot by the hand of God. It skips off the well-trimmed grass and smacks into the back wall - fait accompli. An impossible shot.

Yeah, I can still see it.

===

It was July 6th, 2008. The famed Centre Court at Wimbledon. The men's final between Rafael Nadal and five-time defending champion, Roger Federer.

Entering the match, the stalworth Federer Empire had, for the first time, shown some visible cracks. To wit, in January, Novak Djokovic had swept away Roger in straight sets at the Australian Open semifinals - a tournament that Federer had taken in three out of the previous four years. During the spring hard court swing in the U.S., Feds was dispatched with surprising ease by two Americans that theretofore had been his perenniel whipping boys: Mardy Fish (at Indian Wells) and Andy Roddick (at Miami). Tennis fans and pundits began to whisper that maybe Federer had lost his dominant grip on men's tennis; perhaps he had slowed just a half-step, or maybe *gasp* the rest of the men's field had closed the gap.

Those whispers quickly loudened into deafening roars in June, when at Roland Garros, Rafael Nadal shellacked Federer 6-1, 6-3, 6-0 in the finals - the worst defeat of Roger's Grand Slam career. After that match, tennis legend Bjorn Borg, himself a five-time champion at Wimbledon, predicted, as did many others, that Rafa would finally end Federer's winning streak at the All-England Club, after losing to Federer in the previous two finals. As Djokovic's mother had brashly proclaimed after her son's Australian Open triumph, "The King [was] finally dead."

Just a fortnight after his Paris debacle, Federer found comfort in the familiar confines of the All-England Club and the hallowed grounds of Wimbledon as he sought to regain the form that had propelled him to 12 Grand Slam titles in less than five years. Federer entered Wimbledon on a 59 match winning streak on grass courts, including the last 34 matches he had played at the Championships. With a victory, he had the chance to break a tie with Bjorn Borg with a sixth consecutive Wimbledon title, to bring himself within 1 Grand Slam title of tying Pete Sampras's all-time record, and most importantly, to silence the critics who were already proclaiming that there was a New World Order in men's tennis.

Federer indeed regained his form as the tournament progressed, plowing through his half of the draw like a chainsaw going through butter. Upstart Mario Ancic, the last man to beat Federer at Wimbledon? Go home. Former champion Lleyton Hewitt? Grab a seat. Two-time Grand Slam champion Marat Safin? Please take a party favor with you on your way out. Just like that, six up, six down. 18 consecutive sets of what would otherwise be described as efficiently brutal tennis, if not for the elegance and artfulness of the man delivering the punishment: a modern day da Vinci with a 78 by 27 foot grass canvass and a 90 square inch carbon-graphite paint brush.

His opponent in the final, of course, had already been pre-ordained. It could not have been anyone but Nadal - the Joe Frazier to Roger's Ali, and his opponent in the previous two finals. Rafa came in sporting a 11-6 lifetime record against Roger, including a 4-2 advantage in Grand Slam finals. But never had Nadal beaten Federer in a Grand Slam final outside of Paris, and certainly not at Wimbledon, Federer's home away from home - his self professed favorite tournament. A victory by Nadal would not merely signal that the Federer Empire was starting to crack, but rather, that it was beginning to crumble completely.

The eyes of the tennis world were fixed on Centre Court that July afternoon as Nadal absconded with the first two sets 6-4, 6-4 in the best-of-five encounter. Federer had not played poorly; in fact, he had been up a break of serve in both sets, but had squandered both chances with unsteady play at inopportune times. A rain-delay in the middle of the third set seemed to calm him down and he managed to control the third set tie-breaker to trim Nadal's lead to 2 sets to 1. The fourth set went by with each player holding serve with little trouble. At 6-all, it was onto another tie-break. First one to 7 points takes the set - win by two.

Nadal raced out to a 4-1 advantage, and then quickly to 5-2. But with two points on his serve to win the title, Nadal began to show his first sign of nerves. A double fault and a shaky backhand into the bottom of the net made it 5-4, Nadal. Federer won the next two points on his serve to earn a set point at 6-5 to level the match at two sets apiece. Unfortunately, Feds sprayed a forehand wide to give Nadal life at 6-6. Another Federer forehand error gave Nadal his first match point at 7-6. A chance to convincingly end Federer's reign with a stunning coup-d'tat.

Federer denied Nadal with a swift service winner wide to the ad-court. At 7-7, Federer hit a pair of laser beam forehands, the latter of which was directed deep into Nadal's forehand corner while Nadal was out of position, some 12 feet behind the baseline. Sensing his opportunity, Federer pounced like a lion and came to the net behind what surely must have seemed like a winning shot. Nadal had other ideas. On a full sprint to the corner, Nadal, now a full 16 feet behind the baseline and with Federer rapidly approaching the net to put away a decisive volley, desperately slapped at the ball with a flick of his powerful left wrist. The ball exploded off of Nadal's string like a BB pellet and skimmed over the net and around the out-stretched racket of a lunging - and stunned - Federer. The crowd exploded into a raucous din. Match point, Nadal.

A half a world away in Glendale, California, as I sat on my couch desperately clutching my K-factor Tour 90 racket, hoping to somehow transfer all of my chi and good karma to Roger, I knew at that instant that the match was over. Nadal had driven the final, symbolic stake through the heart of the Federer era. And he had done it with force and style. It was truly one of the most incredible tennis shots ever struck. Now all was left was the final nail in the coffin. For Feds and his fans, it was finally over. Everyone in the stadium, and everyone watching on TV could sense it.

As Nadal lined up on the baseline to serve, to deliver the final blow to make it official, a tremendous sadness washed over me - the helpless feeling associated with a loss of innocence. Father Time had finally caught up with my indomitable hero. He had finally met the opponent that he couldn't beat. Wile E. Coyote had finally caught the Roadrunner. And the weight of the world, along with all of his doubters, were about to buckle the knees of The Mighty Fed.

At 8-7, with his second match point, Nadal served to Federer with a slicing lefty serve that began curving into Federer's body. Federer chopped it back with a high backhand, while Nadal stormed to the net. The ball dropped meekly within 2 feet of the service line, right in the path of Rafa, who was charging forward like a bull preparing to gore a wounded matador. With a violent swing of his light-weight frame, Nadal ripped a topspin forehand into Federer's backhand corner and continued swiftly to a tactical position at the net.

As the ball hurtled toward the sideline, Federer, on the full-run, had to make a snap decision within milliseconds. Cross-court, or down the line? Most tennis pros will tell you that in a situation where you have to hit a passing shot around your opponent while he is coming to the net, it is most prudent to hit the shot cross-court. The reason is two-fold. First, hitting a shot cross-court from the backhand corner allows you to hit the ball over the center of the net, where it is 6 inches lower than it is on the sideline (36 to 42). Second, hitting the ball on a diagnol of the court gives you a higher margin for error, as you have a longer distance to hit the ball. The alternative, to go down the line on a shot of that difficulty from the backhand corner over the highest part of the net, is extremely high-risk by comparison.

Therefore, given the magnitude of the situation - down match point during the final of Wimbledon to his biggest rival - it obviously made most sense to go cross-court with a passing shot. Federer, however, defying all logic, glided to his backhand corner, about 8 feet behind the baseline, and with preternatural ability, ever so adroitly flicked a backhand passing shot down the line. The effortlessness with which he struck the ball belied the devastating result. The ball popped off his strings as if shot by a cannon, screamed over the perilously high part of the net, and landed safely in the opposite corner, some 80 feet from where it originally left Federer's racket. A singularly spectacular and incredible play.

In fact, it was the gutsiest shot I had ever seen:



Unfortunately, few will remember this shot. Most people choose to dwell on what happened afterwards. It is well-documented, certainly. Federer went on to take the fourth set and force a decisive fifth. After battling heroically for another 90 minutes and as darkness descended over the All-England club, Federer finally succumbed 9-7 in the fifth set, in what would go down as the greatest tennis match ever played.

But for me, this shot represents a seminal moment in Federer's career. In defeat, he had displayed more courage and grit than he had in any of his previous 12 Grand Slam victories. He had been pushed to the absolute brink, and he had fought back with a lionheart - the Heart of a Champion. He had shown the world an incredible grace under intense fire. But more importantly, I think he discovered something about himself in that moment. With his world crumbling around him, he had stepped through the inferno and had come out clean on the other side.

Many people figured the Wimbledon loss signalled a changing of the guard - a requiem to Federer's dominance. But, oh, how they were wrong. Federer, of course, bounced back to take three out of the next four Grand Slams, pushing his career total to 15, and cementing his status as the Greatest Ever.

Coincidence? I doubt it.

I am Randy "The Ram" Robinson

No, I am not a 40-something, passed-his-prime professional wrestler with beach-blonde hair struggling with a return trip from the purlieus of fame and success. But rarely, if ever, have I connected in the way that I did with Mickey Rourke's affecting protagonist in Darren Aranofsky's superb The Wrestler.

I'm not going to write a movie review; there's already been enough (well-deserved) critical acclaim heaped on the film since it debuted last year. And to say that it was my favorite film in at least the last few years is a massive understatement (and I watch a fair share of movies). But I did feel compelled to write something about this film, because it's just that good.

The heart of the movie is arguably the flawless wrestling scenes, which capture both the in-ring and behind-the-curtain realities of the sport, in a way reminiscent of 1999's excellent Beyond the Mat.

But the real soul of the movie, no doubt, were three scenes with The Ram and his estranged daughter, Stephanie (played convincingly by the fetching Evan Rachel Wood).

[*** SPOILER ALERT ***]


In the first scene, after suffering a mild heart attack following a brutal hardcore match, The Ram - realizing perhaps for the first time that he fears being alone - visits Stephanie at her New Jersey home in an attempt to mend their tattered relationship. Predictably, Stephanie wants nothing to do with Randy, whom she presumably hasn't seen or heard from in years. She "rips him a new one" (in The Ram's own words) and storms off.

In the second scene, The Ram tries to reach out again, this time armed with a thoughtful peace-making gift: a vintage peacoat (with the assist going to The Ram's romantic interest in the film, an aging stripper named Pam - portrayed by Marisa Tomei). Sensing that Stephanie is beginning to warm up to him, Randy suggests that they go to their "old favorite spot," the Boardwalk, and spend some time together. What follows is a heart-wrenching scene that stayed with me for days:



I can't quite put my finger on it, but this scene really resonated with me. I suppose I have "Stephanies" in my life, too. People that I've hurt, disappointed, or alienated because of my own frailties and all-too-human shortcomings. I wish I could say to them: I'm sorry. You never did anything wrong. I deserve to be alone, but I just don't want you to hate me.

Sadly, or perhaps fittingly, The Ram manages to screw up this fragile reconciliation with yet another broken promise. In another harrowing scene, The Ram is rendered helpless as a fed-up Stephanie, built up only to be broken down again, banishes him from her life forever. I empathized with the Ram because I've been there, too: struggling to find the right combination of words to say when you've disappointed someone. Feeling utter helplessness, but just praying the other person understands.

Oddly, in the deleted scenes on the DVD, there is a scene where The Ram calls Stephanie one last time to reach out to her and let her know how sorry he is for all the years of neglect, broken promises, and not being there for her. I'm not sure why Aranofsky left it out in the final cut of the movie. But it makes sense.

Sometimes, it's just easier to say nothing and move on.

I am Randy "The Ram" Robinson.

And "Stephanie," I'm sorry. You never did anything wrong. I deserve to be alone, but I just don't want you to hate me.

The Longhorns got Hooked.

In tennis, unless you're playing on the pro circuit, you typically call your own lines during a match. When the other player deliberately calls a ball out to steal a point, you say you got "hooked" on the line-call.

In a bit of irony, it appears that the Texas Longhorns, whose supporters devotedly flash the ubiquitous "Hook'em Horns" sign during games, were themselves "hooked" this week when their arch-rival Oklahoma Sooners squeeked past them in the BCS polls, and snuck into the Big 12 Championship Game.

Now, the Longhorns were ahead in the Harris Poll and a mere 1 point behind the Sooners in the Coaches Poll, but the BCS computers were sufficiently impressed with Oklahoma's dismantling of their intra-state rivals to give the Sooners the edge. The result was troubling to most because the two teams had played each other on a neutral field on October 11th, and Texas had won the head-to-head matchup by 10 points. If that wasn't an accurate measure of which team was more deserving, the Texas fans argued, then what exactly is the point of playing the game? Sooner fans, on the other hand, countered that their team had not only beaten the team that had beaten Texas (Texas Tech), they had humiliated them by 40 points on national television. Accordingly, their team rightfully deserved the trip to Kansas City to play Missouri in the conference title game.

These partisan interests aside, most observers believed that the human polls should have done a better job of safe-guarding the process to better reflect the on-field outcomes of this 2008 football season. After all, freeing us from the inflexible and cold calculations of impersonal machines - incapable of weighing subjective, but nevertheless important metrics such as momentum and clutch performances - was precisely the reason that the BCS formula was tweaked in recent years to give the human element twice the weight of the computer portion (the BCS rating system is comprised of two human polls and one composite computer ranking gleaned from six individual computer ratings).

In the interest of full disclosure, I have a confession: I'm a Texas fan. Always have been, and always will be. My dad, fresh from Pusan, Korea (where American football was as foreign as black Angus steaks) went to graduate school at UT-Austin in the 70's, and something about Bevo, Earl Campbell, and the bright lights at Memorial Stadium really captured his imagination. He was instantly hooked. (No pun intended). As a result, I've always bled burnt orange, and I've always cheered for the Longhorns. From Eric Metcalf and Tony Jones to Vince Young and Ricky Williams, I've always had a deep-rooted interest in the team.

But I'm not going to use this space to argue whether Texas is more deserving than Oklahoma of a Big 12 Championship Game bid - that's something for the talking heads at ESPN or College Football GameDay to sort out. What I will do, however, is under-cut the argument that some pollsters made in ranking OU ahead of Texas on their latest ballots, despite the Longhorns' 45-35 victory over the Sooners in October: that is, as the argument goes, while Oklahoma did lose that game on a neutral field, they have played better than Texas in the six games since then. Erego, they are the stronger team; and thus, deserve to be ranked ahead of the Longhorns.

Truth is, that is an entirely subjective argument. While we can compare their relative bodies of work, we can only compare the teams meaningfully if they play again. So an argument that Oklahoma is a better team at this point in time (whereas they were not two months ago) is virtually impossible to substantiate.

But my question is: Is this OU team even playing better now than they were before meeting Texas back in October? Sure, the Sooners' recent streak of four consecutive 60-plus point games has been impressive. But people tend to forget that the Sooners were ranked a solid No. 1 in every poll after the first five games of the year. In fact, in the Coaches' Poll, they received every first place vote, save for two (Les Miles and Mack Brown presumably voted for their own teams for the No. 1 spot). Unfortunately for Texas, the deluge of OU points in recent weeks has washed away any memory of the first part of the season.

Let's take a look at the Sooners' season, however, just to tickle our fancy.

The following are the results from the Sooners' first give games before the loss to Texas, with the current BCS ranking (if any) of their opponent in parentheses:

UT-Chattanooga W 57-2
Cincinnati (13) W 52-26
Washington W 55-19
Texas Christian (11) W 35-10
Baylor W 49-17

The following are the results from the Sooners' last six games after the loss to Texas, with the current BCS ranking (if any) of their opponent in parentheses:

Kansas W 45-31
Kansas State W 58-35
Nebraska W 62-28
Texas A&M W 66-28
Texas Tech (7) W 65-21
Oklahoma State (14) W 61-41

Interestingly enough, Oklahoma's margin-of-victory in its first five games was actually higher (by nearly 6 points - 34.8 to 28.8) than it has been since the loss to Texas. Well, one might say, Oklahoma played a much easier schedule in the first month, with cream-puff out-of-conference teams served up on a platter.

Well, in each part of the season, the Sooners played two teams currently in the Top 15 in the BCS (#11 TCU and #13 Cincinnati in the first part, and #7 Texas Tech and #14 OSU in the second part). Admittedly, Oklahoma did benefit statistically from playing FCS bottom-feeding UT-Chattanooga and putrid Washington (1-22 combined record).

But even if we take out those cake-walks from the tabulations, Oklahoma's margin of victory in the first part of the season is almost within a point of its differential during the second part (28.8 to 27.7). Further, the relative combined winning percentages of those subsets are: 0.666 (24-12) to 0.611 (44-28), in favor of the season's first half opponents.

So then, what can we gather from all this? Just one ineluctable conclusion: Oklahoma has been playing at virtually the same level all-season - exceedingly well, of course. Granted, Oklahoma has impressed voters lately with their nationally televised annihilation of then-No. 2 Texas Tech, followed by a 61-point explosion against Oklahoma State in another national TV game. But, while it is easy to forget, they were just as dominant, if not moreso, in the season's first month.

As the numbers bear out, Oklahoma is no better now than they have been at any point this season. They simply played a superior team on October 11th, and they lost by 10 points. Fortunately for them, the pollsters seem to have a short memory.

Usain Bolt: 9.55?

http://sports.espn.go.com/oly/trackandfield/news/story?id=3583692

Immediately after Bolt's astounding gold medal 100M sprint at the Beijing Games, NBC track and field commentator, Ato Boldon, speculated, "[Bolt] just threw away a 9.59" by hot-dogging during the last 15 meters of the race. After analyzing Bolt's split times, his own coach announced that Bolt could have run a 9.52 had he not pulled up before the finish.

Well, a physicist at the Institute of Theoretical Astrophysics at the University of Oslo has done the math: he calculated that Usain Bolt would have finished the 100M final in Beijing between 9.55 and 9.61 seconds had he ran straight through the finish. Incredible.

My guess is that we won't have to wait too long before we see Bolt run that time in reality instead of just theoretically. In fact, I'd be shocked if we don't see Bolt run sub-9.65 by the end of next year. Going forward, who knows what's possible? 9.5's? Don't bet against it.

Only one thing is certain: the ceiling has been lifted. Rather, Bolt has blasted through it with lightning speed.

Can Federer Surpass Sampras?

To cut the suspense - barring serious injury, yes he will. That much is a virtual certainty. After all, Feds only just turned 27 and he trails Pistol Pete by just one Grand Slam title.

The real question is: by how much will he break Sampras's mark?

Fortunately for us, it's quite easy comparing their respective careers, as they were born almost exactly 10 years apart - Sampras on August 12, 1971 and Federer on August 8, 1981.

Through his first 38 Grand Slam tournaments, Roger has already racked up 13 wins. By comparison, through his first 38 Slams, Pete won 11 of them. Overall, in his career, he competed in 52 majors, and finished with 14 wins - the last coming at the 2002 U.S. Open.

After winning his 5th Wimbledon crown and 11th Grand Slam in 1998, Sampras remained viable at Wimbledon - winning 2 more titles there - but he only managed to win one more title (that final U.S. Open victory) outside the All-England Club.

Meanwhile, Federer remains a viable competitor at all four major tournaments. He's won the U.S. open five times in a row, three out of the last five Australian Opens, and it took the greatest tennis match ever played for Rafael Nadal to finally wrest the Wimbledon crown away from Roger this year - snapping Federer's five-year winning streak there.

Only on the terre battue of Roland Garros has Federer been shut-out. Even then, he has made the last three finals.

Federer has expressed a desire to compete in the 2012 Olympics in London - meaning he's planning to play at least another 4 years, until the age of 31. It's not inconceivable that he can win at least two more Wimbledons in that span - after all, grass-court success seems to be the last to go, as evidenced by Sampras's enduring success on the surface into his late-20's. Notwithstanding Nadal's 2008 triumph, Federer remains the preeminent grass-court player in the world.

For all of his dominance at Wimbledon, he has been just as invincible, if not more, at Flushing Meadows, where he has won 34 consecutive matches. Again, giving Federer two out of the next four U.S. Opens seems to be a conservative number.

At the Australian Open, Federer's brilliance has been somewhat glossed over because of his less-consistent results. But we must take a closer look at his two losses there in the last five years. In 2005, Federer lost 9-7 in the fifth set to a freakishly talented Marat Safin peaking at just the right time. This year, he fell to Novak Djockovic in the semi-finals after being significantly weakend by a month-long bout with mononucleosis.

Otherwise, he swept through the 2004 and 2006 tournaments while losing a total of two sets in each of those years. In 2007, he became the first man since Bjorn Borg in 1980 to win a Grand Slam without dropping a set. (A feat since duplicated by Nadal at this year's French Open.) In sum, when he has been healthy and prepared, Federer has been virtually unbeatable Down Under. Still, taking into account the vagaries and quirky things that happen at the year's first major, we can conservatively project that Federer will win at least one out of the next four Australian Opens.

And don't quite count-out Federer at the one major that's eluded him - the French. Unlike Sampras, Federer has been knocking on the door every year for the past five years, and he's clearly established himself as the second best clay-court player in the world, next to the tenacious Mallorcan southpaw. Still, the smart money probably says not to bet that Federer will crack Nadal's indomitable reign at Roland Garros anytime soon.

That brings our total tally over the next four years to five Grand Slams. And remember, those are only conservative estimates. It's easy to picture Federer, with his dedication to training and his love of the sport, playing well into his 30's, as fellow tennis great Andre Agassi did. In fact, Agassi won 5 majors after the age of 29. Of course, Andre was a unique specimen. But still, it's too early to dismiss the notion that Roger could potentially emulate the great American's late-career success.

So, in short, Roger is likely to finish his career with at least 18 Grand Slam titles, and if he stays healthy and hungry, he may even push that total to over 20. Either way, he seems primed on obliterating Sampras's record.

But perhaps the real juicy question is: who would win a match between the two if they could play each other in their respective primes?

(The answer to that one, coming soon.)

Return of the King

As his opponent's final overhead return sailed into the net on match point, Roger Federer crumbled to the court in a mixture of boundless euphoria and downright relief - putting an exclamation point on his 13th Grand Slam win after a 6-2, 7-5, 6-2 trouncing of Scottish upstart, Andy Murray.

And just like that: the Man was back.

Not that he had really gone anywhere. Notwithstanding the grumblings of most "experts" and tennis fans worldwide, Federer was quietly having a terrific season under anyone's standards except his own. To wit, in the year's three Grand Slams coming into New York, he had made two finals and one semi-final - that one after battling a month-long bout with mononucleosis at the year's outset.

But after losing an epic match against Rafael Nadal in the Wimbledon final (widely considered the greatest match ever played), Federer seemed to sleep-walk through the summer hardcourt season - including a disappointing quarterfinal loss to James Blake at the Olympics. He did, however, salvage his Beijing experience by winning the gold medal in the men's doubles with countryman, Stanislav Wawrinka.

That win, according to Federer, served to lift his spirits and injected him with some much-needed confidence heading in the year's final Grand Slam. Federer has always enjoyed playing on Broadway - he has stated he feels like a New Yorker at times - and perhaps what he really needed was another taste of the bright lights and center stage to lift his game back to its normally transcendent heights. After all, he was coming in as the four-time defending champion and riding a 27-match winning streak at the Open.

Indeed, as the fortnight progressed, Federer seemed to re-discover his game. He breezed past the first three rounds without dropping a set. His lethal forehand - the linchpin of his offensive attack, which had failed him at crucial times all year, returned with frightening potency. His underrated footwork, notably absent during the clay court season, resurfaced as Federer glided effortlessly over these hard courts like a streamlined gazelle.

His four-set demolition of last year's finalist, Novak Djockovic, in the semi-finals signalled to the tennis world that he was back in top form. Federer himself seemed to sense it as well. The normally stoic Swiss star began flashing his emotions and punctuated winning key points with hearty fist pumps and joyous shouts throughout the tournament. His increasingly improved play through the last week was only a harbinger of things to come in the final.

Tropical Storm Hanna forced the USTA to push the men's final from its normal Sunday date to Monday. But it was Federer's game that caused the most uncomfortable climate for first-time Grand Slam finalist Murray. Cracking lightning bolt serves and thunder-clap forehands from start to finish, the venerable champion simply overwhelmed the young up-start in just under two hours.

"It was a dominant performance," reflected U.S. Davis Cup captain, Patrick McEnroe.

With this win, his 13th major tournament victory in the last five years, Federer cemented his legacy as perhaps the best player to ever pick up a tennis racket.

His opponent in the final, for one, wouldn't argue.


"I ran into today, in my estimation, the greatest player ever to play," said Andy Murray in his on-court post-match interview.

Entering the 2008 season, many felt it was a foregone conclusion that Federer would surpass, or at least match, Pete Sampras's record of 14 Grand Slam singles titles. After the year's final Grand Slam, Federer still trails Sampras by one.

But with this victory, he left no doubt that he has in fact returned to top form - a scary proposition for the rest of the men's tour heading into 2009. The record seems as vulnerable as ever.

Federer himself, with a new-found confidence and renewed swagger, promised, "I'm not going to stop at 13 for sure."

This time, nobody can doubt him.

All Hail the King.