1.27.11

Chris Evert got me into tennis in 1985.

No, she did not hand me one of her wooden rackets and taught me how to execute her two-fisted backhand. But on my very first encounter with the game during a summer vacation in the Netherlands when my hosts stopped everything we were doing to watch the Wimbledon women’s final, she imprinted on my mind a memory to behold – her grace, her skill, her quiet focus and her dignified surrender as she was defeated in the by her nemesis and friend, Martina Navratilova, 4-6 6-3 6-2.

That got me started.

This was the time when these two great players – Chris and Martina – were playing towards the end of their illustrious careers, when Steffi Graf and Boris Becker were beginning to get noticed.

Day after day, I would read, cut out, collect and paste articles about my favorite players and the scores of their matches in an album. I would even, when I could, videotape their matches. And in order to appreciate their game more, I started playing tennis myself.

I remember being coached at the old YMCA tennis courts (where SM Manila is now located) and playing singles and doubles whenever I could. I remember how tenacious I was – running after every ball – that someone, I don’t remember who, even said I was the Michael Chang. I remember how I was my boss’ favorite doubles partner. I remember taking part in my very first tournament and being intimidated by a Dutch player whose wife kept telling me before the start of the match that I had no way of beating her husband. I won 6-2 6-0. I remember being and losing in two finals. I remember being injured and having my right ankle cast. I remember having a slipped disc and being told by the doctor to keep away from tennis.

For a while, I was happy to see the rise of Steffi who I thought at the time was too focused on making her mark that she looked grumpy even at an early age. When she beat Chris Evert in the finals of the Australian Open 1988, 6-1 7-6, to claim the first of her calendar Grand Slams, I began to steer away from her. I don’t know why, and still do not know why.

But of course, new breed of stars inevitably shines. There was Gabriela Sabatini who I liked too much even if she was consistently defeated by Steffi. There was Arantxa Sanchez-Vicario and her ever-present mom. There was Jennifer Capriati whose career we watched from her debut in the Federation Cup up to her decline – remember that mug shot after she was caught shoplifting? – and resurrection (3 Grand Slams and a number one ranking) and eventual decline.

And then, there was Monica Seles.
I do not understand this, but when she beat Chris Evert in one of her early tournaments, I didn’t mind at all. Monica was too skinny, her grunt and her two-hand forehand and backhand uniquely hers. And I started rooting for her. When she was handily beating Steffi Graf, one deranged fan couldn’t take it any longer and stabbed her. Could Steffi have collected all the grand slam trophies she has had if Monica was not sidelined for two years? There will always be an asterisk to Steffi’s accomplishments. When Monica retired, I lost interest in the women's game altogether.

Martina Hingis, the precocious Swiss Miss, also came into the picture. It was a pity that her Grand Slam quest was dashed by Iva Majoli who beat her in the only slam that she had not won – the French. I was all for Martina until she so easily started beating the resurgent Monica – and then my liking fizzled.

The Williams Sisters – Venus and Serena – were not my favorites. I felt sad for Venus, who was earlier vouched for as the better between the two, when Serena won the US Open, scoring ahead of her elder sister. They, along with Anna Kournikova who was a Nick Bolletieri prodigy, were touted to rule the game. Anna ended with no single trophy to her credit, and well, Serena to-date does as she pleases – combining tennis and her other interests.

Then, the Russians came and went: (French Open winner), Svetlana Kuznetsova, Elena Dementieva, etc. Dinara Safina held the number one ranking very briefly, but was too unnerved by taunts of her being ranked number one as a fluke. Do not forget Maria Sharapova who scored a Wimbledon, a US Open, and an Australian Open to her name.

The French also stomped their flag on top. Mary Pierce, who briefly played in the US Federation Cup before turncoating to the French League, Nathalie Tauziat who reached a Wimbledon final, and the masculine Amelie Mauresmo.

The Belgians – Justine Henin and Kim Clijsters – held court for a while until they retired. Kim got married, became a mother, returned and won two more US Opens. Justine divorced and returned, reached the Australian Open final shortly thereafter, but failed to win, was injured, and announced retirement again.

What about the Serbs? The oh-so-pretty Ana Ivanonic and her compatriot Jelena Jankovic. They both reached number one. They both held the spot very briefly. They both, sadly, dropped from the top, too.

Now, there is Caroline Wozniacki from Denmark who reigns at the top.
But honestly, it does not rouse my interest back.

Why am I writing all this, and without a mention of the men?
Because I only remember their names but I wasn’t much of the men’s game follower until Rafael Nadal.

True, I know the names John McEnroe and Bjorn Borg and Jimmy Connors and I also saw the rise and fall of Ivan Lendl, Mats Wilander, Boris Becker, Stefan Edberg, Michael Stich, Richard Krajicek, Michael Chang, Jim Courier, Sergi Bruguera, Gustavo Kuerten, Marcelo Rios, Pat Cash, Patrick Rafter, Goran Ivanisevic, Andrei Medvedev, Yevgeny Kafelnikov, Thomas Muster, Carlos Moya, Juan Carlos Ferrero, Alberto Costa, Alex Corretja, Lleyton Hewitt, Andy Roddicks – but I never really got into the groove of men’s tennis. It seems too impersonal and too mechanical for me.

But when Pete Sampras won his first US Open at a very young age, I became a fan of this gentleman and would always bet on him to win against his closest foe, the flamboyant Andre Agassi. I loved Pete’s demeanor. Few words. More action on the court.

So, you can imagine what happened when he was beaten at the quarterfinals of the 2003Wimbledon by this long-haired upstart Roger Federer? I had an instant dislike for Roger. To this day – save for that moment during the 2009 Australian Open when he shed tears after losing to Rafael Nadal in the final – I have very less sympathy for him. It’s just me, the fan. Nothing personal.

Which brings me to Nadal’s loss at the hands of David Ferrer last night.
Why did I like Nadal in the first place?
I think it has something to do with his powerful play.
His rawness.
His looks.
His wild swings.
His gentleman ways.
Yes, his gentleman ways.

At the interview, he asked not to be questioned about his injury, careful not to take away anything from the victory of Ferrer. It is not what he said, but how he said it. Very gentle, almost pleading, very caring.

And so, his lost was mine, too.

PS
Roger Federer got beaten by Novak Djokovic in straight sets, too.
6-7 5-7 4-6
And he was not injured as Nadal was.

PPS
After having won 21 of the last 23 grand slams between them, this will be the first time since the 2008 Australian Open between Novak Djokovic and Jo-Wilfred Tsonga that neither Roger Federer nor Rafael Nadal is a finalist.


REFLECTIONS
Exodus 38-40

Exodus 38
The minerals offered by the people for use in the construction of the tabernacle:
Gold One Metric Ton
Silver Three Metric Ton
Bronze Two and a Half Metric Ton
Mining must have been a flourishing trade back then!
And jewelry making an in-demand profession!

Exodus 39:42
The Israelites had done all the work just as the LORD had commanded Moses. Moses inspected the work and saw that they had done it just as the LORD had commanded. So Moses blessed them.

God commands.
People obey.
Leader blesses people.

Exodus 40:36-38
In all the travels of the Israelites, whenever the cloud lifted from above the tabernacle, they would set out; but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out—until the day it lifted. So the cloud of the LORD was over the tabernacle by day, and fire was in the cloud by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel during all their travels.

Even now, whether there are clouds and fire or not, God’s omnipresence is felt by all. He is in all, over all.
And it is just wonderful to be under his protection.