There are matches and there are matches.
For those who love sports, the French Open semi final between Djokovic and Nadal was the closest to a perfect match. It had everything - quantity (a sumptuous 4 hours - about the length of “The Family Man” which has got the nation hooked), quality ( two of the best fighting it out) , intrigue (more twists and turns than a double sided screw) and intensity (I had to make myself a smoothie to get rid of the exhaustion of the match).
For generations to come, this match would be discussed because one man, Djokovic, showed that impossibility is also a notion.
While there are four grand slam opens, the US and the Australian opens - having chosen hard courts no longer have the umbilical cord and the charm of the past. The French and All England - much like the Notre Dame and the Oxford University - take us to a genteel era. While the past binds them, the courts separate them. Grass is fast, Clay is slow.
A match played on the Wimbledon courts is like a slick James Bond thriller. Everyone turns up in suits (whites on the court), the view is scenic. Bullets whiz past, but there is no blood, no gore, no sweat, no dirt. Only the scorecard at the end will tell you who has won.
The French open / clay court game is like a bollywood - Ramgopal Verma kind of movie. Every fight is physical- there are grunts, groans and tell tale signs of struggle. Each point takes an eon with rallies, points, counter points. The attack can come from any corner of the court. It is not aesthetic, but incredibly athletic.
And, it has a Don. The indomitable Rafa. He is invincible because his game is incredible. To the ball, he imparts more revolutions (more than 3000 RPM), more height, more carriage, more power and more speed than any other player. In cricketing analogy - it is like the spin of Shane Warne, the speed of Shoaib Akhtar, the carriage of Pat Cummins, the control of Jasprit Bumrah, all laced with Ravindra Jadeja’s agility.
Add to that Pujara’s imperturbability and Dhoni’s calmness.
Difficult to believe that one man has ALL these skills.
Over fifteen years, many who played Nadal gave up winning even before they entered the court - save one, Djokovic.
If Nadal is the Don, Djokovic is the Buddha - impassive, immovable, impregnable, impenetrable - functioning like a metronome, reeling off winners at boring consistency.
If there was a match created by the Gods, this was it.
When the match started, even the Buddha seemed shaken. At 0-5 down in the first set, it seemed like déjà vu - the Don song seemed imminent.
Then Novak dug deep, showcasing why he IS the number 1 player in the world. He changed tactics, attacked the weaker back hand of Nadal and slowly inched back. What seemed impossible became improbable, then probable and then possible.
Mount Nadal, which seemed destined to add a 14th title to its vaunted cupboard, wilted.
For a match that stalked impossible heights, the end was tame as the superhuman Nadal showed traces of being human. Double faults, unforced errors which have never been part of Nadal’s repertoire started showing up. We realised that even the Don had his chinks.
In the end, it was Novak’s unwillingness to lose that triumphed Nadal’s genius.
Thank you Novak and Rafa for a dream exhibition, for leaving us gasping at your sheer brilliance. We will be forever grateful for the sheer joy and exhilaration you provided.
