Yesterday morning I awoke after a night of heavy drinking and heavier eating and stared at the ceiling. I wondered why my sleep had been so short. I waited about an hour and headed out. It was the day after July 4th, random firework casings littered the streets and I had visions of a delicious breakfast ahead of me. Little did I know, I was in store for fireworks of a different variety. I returned home to a fresh pot of coffee, a bag full of steaming hot bagels, some cream cheese and lox. I guess this is the Jewish equivalent of the Sunday dinner...I call it brunch, no matter what time I eat it.
9:00am. I turn on the TV, coffee in hand and half listen to the broadcasters go on and on about the historic event. I'm having thoughts in my head of how the day will go after the 90-100 minute slaughter I'm about to watch. Four and a half hours later, I'm worn out. Literally sweating from the action I've just witnessed. Powerless and fatigued by the effort that entertained me. Thankful, I remembered to watch.
So now it's 1:30pm. My television has been shut off. I have just witnessed an incredible tennis match between Roger Federer, who ended any speculation as to who is the greatest tennis player ever and Andy Roddick. The prodigy who despite not living up to his billing, has managed to stay a very consistent and formidable opponent.
The point of this blog wasn't to tell of my morning, but to tell of the feelings that followed it. Roger Federer is my favorite current tennis player and has been for quite a few years. I've enjoyed his domination the way, I am sure, Yankees fans enjoyed the latter end of the 1990's. Last year, he played and lost in what very well may have been the greatest match of all time. This year, with Rafael Nadal injured, a rematch was not going to happen and Federer's winning his 15th and record breaking grand slam was inevitable. Everyone got the memo. Everyone, but Andy Roddick. Roddick had surpised everyone just getting there. Of course he would be steamrolled and the morning grass would still have the morning dew by match's end. Or so I thought.
Andy Roddick put on the single greatest serving display I have ever witnessed. It should be noted that Roger Federer had fifty aces, but Roddick's serving was the story. He did not have his serve broken until the final game. The 30th of the fifth set. The match had ended and I, as a Federer fan, found it disturbingly difficult to smile. I had just watched my favorite player win. He had won Wimbledon. He had won a record breaking 15th slam. He was the greatest. All I could think of was Roddick. As he sat slumped over in his chair. Tears welled in his eyes. I felt a lump in the back of my throat. But why? I never feel for any team that loses to the Red Sox or the Broncos. I don't feel this way when an Olympic athlete loses to Russia, or China, or any other country for that matter. So why was I so upset for Roddick? Maybe it's because for me, sports has always been about the competition and that's probably why I never really went out for team sports in high school. Winning and losing in the end never meant anything to me. I'd rather lose a 5-4 game of baseball any day, rather than beating someone 20-0. I'd rather get the game winning shot hit against me than beating another team by 40 points. To me it's the game, the sportsmanship, and the show that matters, not the result. It dawned on me early in the fifth set that this match was special. As it continued, I did not want it to end. The end, either way, meant that the enjoyment was over. As Roddick composed himself for the post match interview, the pain was evident. This wasn't about beating Federer or winning Wimbledon. It was about Roddick.
The term "leaving everything on the field" is the most overused cliche in sports. Athletes rarely do this, even in championship games. On Sunday, I truly believe Roddick left a part of himself on that grass court. I do not think he will ever be the same. He played arguably the greatest five set of tennis that anyone has ever played (including Federer) and he lost. Mortals don't come back from that. If he does, I will be impressed. If he does, I will give him a standing ovation wherever I may be. If he does, it may be greater than anything anyone ever does in any sport. Sunday, Roddick played as well as anyone has ever played in any sport and lost. I watched every point and I saw a man leave his heart and soul on that court. His glassy eyes were all but empty. A man can not live without a heart, and I believe that this man, truly, may have left it all on the court.
I thank him!
9:00am. I turn on the TV, coffee in hand and half listen to the broadcasters go on and on about the historic event. I'm having thoughts in my head of how the day will go after the 90-100 minute slaughter I'm about to watch. Four and a half hours later, I'm worn out. Literally sweating from the action I've just witnessed. Powerless and fatigued by the effort that entertained me. Thankful, I remembered to watch.
So now it's 1:30pm. My television has been shut off. I have just witnessed an incredible tennis match between Roger Federer, who ended any speculation as to who is the greatest tennis player ever and Andy Roddick. The prodigy who despite not living up to his billing, has managed to stay a very consistent and formidable opponent.
The point of this blog wasn't to tell of my morning, but to tell of the feelings that followed it. Roger Federer is my favorite current tennis player and has been for quite a few years. I've enjoyed his domination the way, I am sure, Yankees fans enjoyed the latter end of the 1990's. Last year, he played and lost in what very well may have been the greatest match of all time. This year, with Rafael Nadal injured, a rematch was not going to happen and Federer's winning his 15th and record breaking grand slam was inevitable. Everyone got the memo. Everyone, but Andy Roddick. Roddick had surpised everyone just getting there. Of course he would be steamrolled and the morning grass would still have the morning dew by match's end. Or so I thought.
Andy Roddick put on the single greatest serving display I have ever witnessed. It should be noted that Roger Federer had fifty aces, but Roddick's serving was the story. He did not have his serve broken until the final game. The 30th of the fifth set. The match had ended and I, as a Federer fan, found it disturbingly difficult to smile. I had just watched my favorite player win. He had won Wimbledon. He had won a record breaking 15th slam. He was the greatest. All I could think of was Roddick. As he sat slumped over in his chair. Tears welled in his eyes. I felt a lump in the back of my throat. But why? I never feel for any team that loses to the Red Sox or the Broncos. I don't feel this way when an Olympic athlete loses to Russia, or China, or any other country for that matter. So why was I so upset for Roddick? Maybe it's because for me, sports has always been about the competition and that's probably why I never really went out for team sports in high school. Winning and losing in the end never meant anything to me. I'd rather lose a 5-4 game of baseball any day, rather than beating someone 20-0. I'd rather get the game winning shot hit against me than beating another team by 40 points. To me it's the game, the sportsmanship, and the show that matters, not the result. It dawned on me early in the fifth set that this match was special. As it continued, I did not want it to end. The end, either way, meant that the enjoyment was over. As Roddick composed himself for the post match interview, the pain was evident. This wasn't about beating Federer or winning Wimbledon. It was about Roddick.
The term "leaving everything on the field" is the most overused cliche in sports. Athletes rarely do this, even in championship games. On Sunday, I truly believe Roddick left a part of himself on that grass court. I do not think he will ever be the same. He played arguably the greatest five set of tennis that anyone has ever played (including Federer) and he lost. Mortals don't come back from that. If he does, I will be impressed. If he does, I will give him a standing ovation wherever I may be. If he does, it may be greater than anything anyone ever does in any sport. Sunday, Roddick played as well as anyone has ever played in any sport and lost. I watched every point and I saw a man leave his heart and soul on that court. His glassy eyes were all but empty. A man can not live without a heart, and I believe that this man, truly, may have left it all on the court.
I thank him!
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