ROGER FEDERER THRU THE EYES OF THE GREAT OBSERVER AND A MAESTRO HIMSELF – CRAIG CIGNARELLI FOR 10SBALLS

Written by: on 14th October 2016
ATP Tennis in Halle
ROGER FEDERER THRU THE EYES OF THE GREAT OBSERVER AND A MAESTRO HIMSELF - CRAIG CIGNARELLI FOR 10SBALLS

epa05370044 Roger Federer of Switzerland waves after his victory in the match against Malek Jaziri of Tunisia during the ATP tennis tournament in Halle, Germany, 16 June 2016. EPA/FRISO GENTSCH  |

10sBalls Editors Note: This Roger Federer story was brought out of the vault by popular demand.

 

 

Wimbledon Wonderings

 

We humans love our relics – the Roman Colosseum, the Greek Acropolis, the Egyptian Pyramids, Peru’s Machu Picchu. These monuments represent the triumphant architecture of once-great civilizations. Today, they are tourist attractions, relegated to day trips for people to shoot selfies so they can show their friends, “they were there.” Imagine if those ancient civilizations could see the way tourists treat their old stomping grounds. Would they cherish knowing that their innovations have withstood the test of time and that thousands of years later, citizens still appreciate their herculean efforts at building works of historical significance? Would they suffer the torment of obsolescence, the idea that they’ve passed into history with only a few falling down buildings left to symbolize their once great empires? Or, maybe there are ghosts there, still wandering the grounds, reliving their accomplishments and wondering if the swords they wear upon their hips might have one more great victory. Alas, we’ll never know.

 

Roger Federer of Switzerland returns a ball to Jan-Lennard Struff of Germany during the ATP tennis tournament in Halle, Germany, 15 June 2016. EPA/FRISO GENTSCH

Roger Federer is currently the third best tennis player in the world. A decade ago, he held dominion over the professional tennis world, vanquishing opponents with unsurpassed skill, grace, and athleticism. With twenty three straight grand slam semi-finals and enough gold and silver to make Egyptians envious, many began calling the young Swiss the greatest tennis player in history. He built his Empire across well-trimmed lawns and cement rectangles. Admiring the fluid strokes and balletic balance was enough to cure one’s anxieties. To watch Roger on Sunday television was like attending an international watering hole. His talents trespassed onto construction sites and fitness centers, airport bars and church headphones. When Federer won, the spectating world called “Amen.”

 

Time passed though, and like all great empires, Federer developed an adversary, a Spanish warrior sculpted from the red clay and built like a God. For years, they battled for primacy. In the early years, Federer won. Eventually, the Spaniard learned from his rival and he added enough offensive tools to dethrone the legend. A few years later, a young Serbian started hitting tennis balls in an empty swimming pool and avoided bombs long enough to develop a consistency which no prior victor could withstand. Today, Novak Djokovic reigns over tennis’ Mt. Olympus and the great Federer is pursuing what seems a Sisyphean task.

 

Roger Federer of Switzerland gestures after his victory in the match against Malek Jaziri of Tunisia during the ATP tennis tournament in Halle, Germany, 16 June 2016. EPA/FRISO GENTSCH

The circular cemetery of lost hours stares out from every athlete’s wall, daring them to push back against the ever-spinning hands in an attempt to raise the ghosts of past achievement. Humanity’s greatest battle has always been against time, and no one wages that war harder than professional athletes who measure their durability with the minute hand. Decay is inevitable. Limbs tighten, joints stiffen, and the slow atrophy of confidence occurs with every clock tick. After six months of injuries, Roger Federer’s war wounds have healed and he is back on the battlefield of his monumental youth. The torn meniscus and spasming latissimi no longer exist. But Federer’s body is aging. His cheek lines are deeper, the first step slightly slower, the eye lens an nth degree more stretched. A Sunday appearance still seems possible, but now it requires prayer. What once cured our anxieties now causes them.

 

In a few weeks, Wimbledon begins. The tourists will be there, taking selfies and showing-off to their friends. Announcers will use phrases like golden parachute and retirement, or quote things about old soldiers fading away. Directors will demand close-ups to see if Federer’s eyes betray any fading belief. And spectators will point and whisper about what once was.

 

Somewhere, though, there’s a ghostly Swiss boy, who ties his Nike shoes before a wooden locker with his name forever emblazoned across it. That boy walks down a hallway of memories where he once cheered, for there were no more lawns left to conquer. He bows to the royal box and feels the soft grass beneath his shoes. He spins his sword and widens his stance. Tucking a curl of hair behind his ear, he breathes into his hand and stares across the net. The look in his eyes includes all of history. He watches his opponent bounce the ball above the manicured grass. A single summons passes through his mind. One more time.

Roger Federer of Switzerland applauds fans after losing his semi final match against Alexander Zverev of Germany at the ATP tennis tournament in Halle, Westfalen, Germany, 18 June 2016. EPA/FRISO GENTSCH

 

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