The weeping Federer
February 02, 2009 Monday, 05:48 PM
Rohit Brijnath thinks it's just fine for losers to cry.
In Melbourne
ROGER Federer and Rafael Nadal tire each other out - and they tire us too.
When their match came to a close, everyone was emotionally exhausted. My father asked me this morning if I cried while watching Federer weeping; I, in turn, asked my mother if she did. Who asks these questions after a sports event?
I like sport like this - big-hitting, big-running, big-hearted sport. I like it when we are reminded, because we do forget, that these impossible-shot-hitting, insane-tension-managing automatons are in fact men. Unlike us, yet just like us. I like it when men let go and reveal themselves occasionally, so we know what's going on inside.
When he was inducted into the tennis hall of fame, Pete Sampras, usually dry-eyed (though he wept in Australia once), could barely complete his speech and broke down so often. In Malaysia, years later, he told me he didn't like it when people said he didn't have emotions. Oh no, he had them, he said, but to play his best tennis he just couldn't afford to show them.
I liked Federer's tears because kids should know it's okay to cry. Some fathers tell sons, big boys don't cry. Yes they do. I liked the tears because they were the tears of a loser. Winners weep, but losers are not supposed to. Not in public, you whinger, it's not done. But who made these rules anyway?
Federer had cried before, in Australia, in Wimbledon, but this was different. Always his tears had come with victory, born of relief that the match was over, expectations fulfilled, journey done. But this was pain, this was emotion flooding his insides, with nowhere for him to go but stand in that crowded stadium, till he could keep it in no longer.
People knew he was playing a younger man, now a better man, playing for his career, for pride, playing to become part of history before time claimed him, and it's why the audience reached out to him.
My mother isn't keen on sport, but Federer she watches. Because he's like an old school gent.
Nadal's a new school gent. He spoke generously of Federer, as he always does, saying: "Sorry, was tough moment for Rog today. I know how tough must be there in important situation from him. But, you know, no, he's a great champion. He's the best. And he's, for sure, very important person for our sport, no?"
I can't remember a rivalry in an individual sport as competitive and classy. But no doubt someone will write in and remind me.
http://blogs.straitstimes.com/2009/2/2/the-weeping-federer
February 02, 2009 Monday, 05:48 PM
Rohit Brijnath thinks it's just fine for losers to cry.
In Melbourne
ROGER Federer and Rafael Nadal tire each other out - and they tire us too.
When their match came to a close, everyone was emotionally exhausted. My father asked me this morning if I cried while watching Federer weeping; I, in turn, asked my mother if she did. Who asks these questions after a sports event?
I like sport like this - big-hitting, big-running, big-hearted sport. I like it when we are reminded, because we do forget, that these impossible-shot-hitting, insane-tension-managing automatons are in fact men. Unlike us, yet just like us. I like it when men let go and reveal themselves occasionally, so we know what's going on inside.
When he was inducted into the tennis hall of fame, Pete Sampras, usually dry-eyed (though he wept in Australia once), could barely complete his speech and broke down so often. In Malaysia, years later, he told me he didn't like it when people said he didn't have emotions. Oh no, he had them, he said, but to play his best tennis he just couldn't afford to show them.
I liked Federer's tears because kids should know it's okay to cry. Some fathers tell sons, big boys don't cry. Yes they do. I liked the tears because they were the tears of a loser. Winners weep, but losers are not supposed to. Not in public, you whinger, it's not done. But who made these rules anyway?
Federer had cried before, in Australia, in Wimbledon, but this was different. Always his tears had come with victory, born of relief that the match was over, expectations fulfilled, journey done. But this was pain, this was emotion flooding his insides, with nowhere for him to go but stand in that crowded stadium, till he could keep it in no longer.
People knew he was playing a younger man, now a better man, playing for his career, for pride, playing to become part of history before time claimed him, and it's why the audience reached out to him.
My mother isn't keen on sport, but Federer she watches. Because he's like an old school gent.
Nadal's a new school gent. He spoke generously of Federer, as he always does, saying: "Sorry, was tough moment for Rog today. I know how tough must be there in important situation from him. But, you know, no, he's a great champion. He's the best. And he's, for sure, very important person for our sport, no?"
I can't remember a rivalry in an individual sport as competitive and classy. But no doubt someone will write in and remind me.
http://blogs.straitstimes.com/2009/2/2/the-weeping-federer
