THERE are many firsts that came in the wake of Roger Federer – the consensus greatest tennis player of all time, as he broke countless records. His effortless displays of brilliance have set the records rolling and the brand of tennis soaring.
But, once Federer no longer graces the courts and thrills the crowds, tennis has a critical issue that it must resolve – the disappearance of a legitimate rivalry.
The reason for this is far from obvious but extremely pertinent; Roger Federer could well be the last men’s grand slam champion with a single-handed backhand. And once this dying stroke goes from critically endangered to extinct, much of the excitement that is apparent in today’s sport will no longer exist in men’s championship calibre tennis.
It’s no secret that rivalries fashion individual sports and make them brands in and unto themselves. And it’s not rocket science that contrasting styles make for the most alluring and exciting rivalries of all time. For once, golf is in a better position than tennis, as the greatest rivalries in recent times are of those where personalities and styles contrast and clash. Mickelson vs. Woods, Fowler vs. McIlroy and McIlroy vs Woods to name a few.
Tennis has a history of rivalries that spans the last 4 decades at the very least. And, the starting point of most rivalries has been the contrast in backhands, and the contrast in leading arms. The five greatest tennis rivalries that I have witnessed are: McEnroe vs. Borg, Sampras vs. Agassi, Becker vs. Edberg, Lendl vs. Connors, and of course, Federer vs. Nadal.
While Becker vs Edberg may not have fallen into the category I described earlier, what made the rivalry excruciatingly suspenseful was the difference in playing styles (power all-court of Becker as opposed to the artistic serve and volley of Edberg). The ferocity of each of these rivalries was what made the sport as popular as it has been since the late 1970’s. And this is why, despite the deepest talent pool that the sport has ever witnessed, and star-making individuals with all the skills that the tennis court never required but happily absorbed, the sport of tennis may face a real crisis once Federer and to a lesser degree, Nadal, no longer bring the R of rivalry to the tennis court.
There is a bar that has been set which whets the expectation, when the elements, surface, temperaments and confidence of each individual play a part in making the elite matches unpredictable and gut-wrenching. The single hand backhand is obsolete in today’s game, and the reason for this is the height, strength and strategy that most players employ in their rise to the top. Of the top 10 players in the world today, only one has a single-handed backhand. Of the top 20, five have single-handed backhands, but realistically, don’t expect to see Wawrinka, Almagro, Monaco, Gasquet or Kohlschreiber holding a grand slam trophy in the era of Del Potro, Djokovic, and Murray.
In the open era of professional men’s tennis, single-handed backhands have been aesthetically and emphatically present amongst the greatest tennis players of all time. In the last four decades, there has been only one year when none of the grand slam champions possessed a single-handed backhand: 2011. Imagine a missed backhand passing shot by Federer in the second set of the finals at Wimbledon 2012, and this would be the second year in a row where all four slams were won by two-fisted champions. This isn’t good news for tennis, and the reason is simple – single handed backhands add an element of risk to one’s game that keeps things interesting. Factor in the variations with slices, dinks, and backspin, and there’s no doubt that the one-handed stroke puts the sizzle into the sport. It’s tantalizing to watch the unpredictability of a one-handed pass, topspin lob, or a sliced drop-shot. Its importance is such that even Murray, Djokovic and Nadal have taken pages from Roger’s encyclopaedia to conjure up half-volleys and slice improvisations that are aesthetically unbecoming, but emphatically effective.
With rising stars such as Raonic and Klizan emulating the trend of huge groundies with two-fisted backhands, tennis stands to become increasingly boring as a spectator sport. Watching Berdych against Murray, or Djokovic against Ferrer, one can’t help but wonder how on earth the next great rivalry will emerge if the predictability of rallies and the generic display of rally patterns prevail. With the demise of the single-handed backhand, expect to see an era of blistering ground-strokes with limited variations in game. As patience and tolerance in today’s youth wanes, it seems difficult to envision marathon matches between mirror image styles exciting the fan base enough to crown superstars who can carry the sport to billions of dollars in revenue as Roger and Rafa have done. There are stars in waiting, yes, but superstars require rivalries, and therein is the quandary for the sport in the next generation.
The recklessly risky proposition that accompanies a single-handed backhand and its vulnerability to the climactic, semantic and psychosomatic vagaries of the man and the crowd keeps audiences and opponents in the game, clamouring for more.
I dread the day when the game is relegated to 30-ball rallies emulating crosscourt drills until the other player blinks (or yawns) first. Unfortunately, we’re not too far from such an eventuality. And when that happens, expect a sharp and steep decline in the business of tennis, and in revenue that accompanies the glory of uncertainty, and the contrast that separates the artist from the auteur.
In an era of uncertainty, the irony is that the single-handed backhand has been the most reliable and bankable aspect of the golden era in tennis. We should hope that the platinum age of tennis spurs future proponents of the ‘beautiful stroke’ otherwise we’re headed towards an Icarus-like plummet for the galactic sport of our generation.
