Save last dance for them -- again
PARIS -- Back together to waltz at the senior prom, or at least the French Open version.
Who else but Rafa and Roger? You -- and they -- knew it all the time. This tripping the light fantastic on the rusty, dusty soil of the ballroom called Roland Garros has been on their minds for a year, Rafa determined to maintain his gliding superiority, Roger trying to step on his feet.
One hundred twenty-six other guys showed up as window dressing. But they had as much chance of intruding on Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer's private party as Dick Cheney slipping Scooter Libby a hacksaw as a going-away present.
Not that a couple of disrespectful chaps didn't try to cut in on their gavotte to tomorrow's final. The Russian nemesis, No. 4 Nikolay ("I'm not famous and I like it that way") Davydenko and the Serbian kid-to-watch, No. 6 Novak Djokovic, kept a full house of 14,840 howling yesterday as they set traps for Messrs. 1 and 2. However, the traps were never sprung.
"I was lucky to get out of the first and third sets. Could have lost all three," said Federer, a 7-5, 7-6 (7-5), 7-6 (9-7) victor over Davydenko in three hours. "I was able to win the points I needed [14 of 17 break points] and he wasn't." In racking up a 54th win in his last 55 major starts, he reached his eighth successive major final, a record, eclipsing Aussie Jack Crawford's 1933-34 exploits by one.
Djokovic, beaten, 7-5, 6-4, 6-2, was nonetheless impressive. He stayed on Nadal's tail through long, demanding, far-flung rallies of fierce hitting -- usually until the last shot. Once Nadal, the champion of the last two years, gets rolling, he's a locomotive out of control.
Poor little Serbia, getting on the map with tennis players rather than warmongers, still has a title shot in the long-limbed form of 6-foot-1-inch, 19-year-old Ana Ivanovic today. Her problem isn't big. Not physically. But large in competitive verve and experience, the champ, Justine Henin, 25. Hungrier than ever even though she has won the French thrice, Henin has "peace of mind, after seven years" (ending estrangement from her family) "and a great feeling about this place. It's my favorite tennis court."
Federer doesn't feel the same, his four championships on the receptive lawn of Wimbledon tempered by eight helpings of Gallic clay-laced goose eggs here. Maybe there's an old Swiss proverb that the ninth time never fails?
He has nothing but respect for Tony Roche, the coach he dismissed after a terrible loss to Filippo Volandri at the Italian Open. But, as the Lone Roger, he's back to doing everything on his own -- playing and planning -- which got him to No. 1. And got him past Nadal in the recent Hamburg final, his first triumph over the Spanish behemoth on clay after five defeats.
"That was a turnaround for me," said Federer. "A coach can only do so much, and after a while you're hearing the same thing. I needed to hear one voice. And that voice is mine."
Roger's conversations with Roger have been "happy. It's been just about me. In the final here last year [1-6, 6-1, 6-4, 7-6 (7-4)] I started strongly, but I didn't keep attacking him, and I let Rafa take control. I know I have to play more serve and volley, rush him. I believe I have the right plan now." I believe him, sort of.
But Hamburg was best of three (2-6, 6-2, 6-0), while majors such as this are best of five, and that distance is sweet meat to the omnivorous Nadal.
Thirty-eight years have passed since the last repeat final in this neighborhood. Those great Australian pro antagonists, Rod Laver and Ken Rosewall, clashed in 1968 and '69. Rosewall won the first, the initial major open at the dawning of "open" tennis, integrating pros and amateurs. Laver won in '69. It was the gateway to his second Grand Slam, preceded by the Australian and followed by Wimbledon and US Open titles.
This was news to Federer. "Gateway sounds good," he said, aware that Wimbledon and the US Open ought to be his again. But the gatekeeper in his current trial and tribulation is Nadal. A Cerberus in sneakers, Rafa seems as fearsome as that hellish hound that guarded Hades.
Dancing with Cerberus at the prom could be tough, especially leading. 