Gladiators at Center Court

Who thought someone could match Federer in sheer class? Yesterday Federer could only outlast Roddick and not outplay him. Roddick proved to be the better player, with a bigger serve, with fewer errors and all in all in better control of the situation.

Who thought someone could come out with services which turned out to be mysterious even for Federer? The same Federer who could return with ease the bazooka like serves from the 6 foot 10 inches tall Ivo Karlovic in the quarter finals, whose serves used to be a terror for lesser mortals. Given, Roddick's been known mainly for his serves, but then so far we haven’t seen anybody holding those many service games against THE Federer.

Right from the start Roddick was in an elevated state. Everything went his way starting with the toss, and then the first game, first set and so on. It was amazing to see him coming up with big serve after big serve and then following up with volleys which didn’t let Federer come anywhere near a break point. It was amazing to see Federer not being able to convert all five of his advances to the net in the first 2 sets. Too many, far too many for comfort, unforced errors from the champ’s racquet. Federer was clearly tensed from the word go, and it was evident in his game. He could never come out of that all through the match, and he mentioning the word ‘crazy’ multiple times in the post match interview was not at all a coincidence. His head would have been literally spinning on seeing those extraordinary replies, from the spirited American.

Volleys were rare. It was more of a serving competition. Break points were rare too. The very few and far between 15-40 score lines were rapidly cleared with 2 consecutive aces. Aces were the norm. How can somebody continue to send down aces, as if factory generated, even after toiling on the court for a good 4 hours is still a mystery to me. One could always predict an ace and be bang on the prediction no matter which of the two was serving at crucial points. It was bewildering to notice the stats that Federer was ahead with a 1 to 1.5 ratio in terms of the number of aces. It was Roddick who seemed to be sending down all the aces. Or it may be because we are so used to seeing Federer The God that we aren’t amused much when he pulls out one of his routine tricks. 50 aces in a championship final and still not being advantaged because of them speaks volumes about your opponent.

Full points to Federer for coming back from 2-6 down the second set tie breaker. Reminded of his come back from 2 sets down in his French Open match against Tommy Haas. But then these days you can trust Federer to do these magical come backs if the opponent is not Nadal.

Federer has elevated the standards of not just his game, but the competition’s standard too, so much so that his opponents have started becoming too good for himself. He showed the world so many new things which are possible. And now he sees his opponents closely following him on those so far untrodden paths and at times bettering him in emulating his own tricks. May be we can set aside the discussion about the greatest player ever, and admit that this is the player who has raised the standard of the game so much that there is no distinction among the best of this sport any more. Its only about the sides from which they got up from their beds on the given day.

Roddick wished, worked hard, wanted, toiled, played, elevated his game and over all deserved to be the 2009 Wimbledon Men’s single’s champion. But Destiny’s child was around to deprive him of that. This year Federer won because - It was written. If The Architect appeared on the Center Court and uttered the following words to Federer at the end of the match, I wouldn’t have been particularly surprised , as the rest of the events yesterday afternoon were as much real and believable – “Your life is the sum of a remainder of an unbalanced equation inherent to the programming of the matrix. You are the eventuality of an anomaly, which despite my sincerest efforts I have been unable to eliminate from what is otherwise a harmony of mathematical precision. While it remains a burden assiduously avoided, it is not unexpected, and thus not beyond a measure of control. Which has led you, inexorably, here.”

Keepers of our Goals

Have you ever wondered who plays at the most dangerous position in a game of football? If that was not wonder enough for you to wonder about, then try this one - as per the rulebook, who enjoys the most privileged position with special rights and protections? Same answer to both of the questions. That of the goalkeepers’. Yes. He is the only one who can handle the ball with his hand. He does not have to run around the field and can confine himself to the area around the goalpost or at most, the area called as D. Anybody who charges him when he has the ball in his arms will be send off the field immediately. What more can you ask for? What more special privileges you need?

Probably the glossy picture a school football team coach might try to paint to get a goalkeeper for his team. Is it true, then? Yes, absolutely. Each one of those claims is correct. However, in an actual match, the picture no longer remains glossy. Each of his other teammates is just one out of 10. Even if one of them goofs up, there will be somebody else to make up for it. When everyone else fails, it ultimately comes to the goalie. And in the unfortunate event of the goalie failing, it doesn’t go anywhere else, it goes straight to the post, and that’s a GOALLLLL!!!... yea... its as simple as that. None of the events in the avalanche of mistakes made by his comrades will be taken into account when a goalie is accused of that inevitable GOAL... Nobody will blame the left wing defender who could have done a sliding tackle and taken the ball away from the advancing forward. Nobody will blame that stopper back who could have headed away the lob the left wing forward gave to the center forward. But all of ‘em will be up in arms against the goalie who couldn’t clear that simplest of balls (, when in fact the goalie has already done a full length dive to his left, managing only to reach a foot too short of the passing ball).

When a forward misses a chance to score, its just another “OHHHH!!!...” nothing more...nothing less.... “That was a good attempt from him... but sadly he couldn’t convert it... bad luck” No big words, no cries for his blood. A forward gets some twenty chances in each game, and if he manages to convert two or at least one of them into a goal, he is praised like a god-send-messenger. Nobody even remembers about the 18 wasted opportunities. In contrast, the goalkeeper is tested a good hundred times in each game. Even if he manages to save ninety-nine of them and goofs-up on a single one, he is prone to be crucified. The same principle applies in an ironic way; nobody remembers those 99 saved ones.

So that makes the life of a goalie pretty unfair and a tough one. He is assumed to do well 'each time'. Expectations are sky-high and mistakes are fatal. No room for error. Tensed life. After hearing all these things, you may ask, why bother at all? Because of one factor. You will be ready to bear with all that I’ve mentioned above if you just experience once, what I am gonna say now. The advantage a goalkeeper gains in case of a penalty shoot-out. That’s when the victim becomes the hero; hunted one becomes the hunter; roles reverse; equations change. A penalty is the ultimate in scoring opportunities. These kicks are awarded for fouls that occur inside the penalty box or when the scores are tie-ed at the end of the stipulated time. These are one-on-one kicks between any one player on the team and the opposing goalie. The ball is placed on the penalty spot, which is 12 yards from the front of the goal, and a player gets a chance to kick it in while the goalie tries to stop it. So its accepted that the chances of the goalie stopping a penalty is minimal. That is when the poor fellow finds his moment of glory. He has nothing to loose, but a goal to save. If he fails, nobody blames him; if he does not, he is the savior. So, when you are pitted as an underdog, without much chance of winning, probabilistically deprived, whatever you do turns out to be in your favor. The goalie starts controlling the entire stadium like a music conductor conducting a concert, with his rhythmic hand movements. Player who takes the penalty kick only gets the attention of the front row left most violinist. Load is shifted to the shoulders of the player who takes the kick now. There were plenty of ‘em who went down when faced with this changed set of equations. Baggio, Bekham and many more....

That was about the great league... Now, something personal. During practice sessions, I love to stand in as the goalkeeper. You will be guarding the goal, and all the players of your team will be lined up in an arc outside the D. All of them shoot the ball at you from that close range. Man, the pleasure when you can beat them all... there is nothing quite like it.... You can see the ball leaving the foot of your teammate, going up in the air, tracing a parabolic arc, moving softly in air, and finally coming roaring at the post. By that time, you analyze the speed, curve and direction of the ball and adjust your steps, open up your arms, and punch the ball away. I particularly like two types of blocks. If the ball is coming below your shoulder level, then you can position your hands so that they form an outstretched prayer pose, where you hold your palms together as if you are in prayer, the only difference being, your palms are as far away from your body as is possible. You use the underside of your palms to block the ball. The elegance is unmatched. :_) Second type of block comes in handy when the ball goes high and away from you. You are at one corner of the post and the opponent has aimed the ball at the far end. You run back, chasing the ball, then reach in time, jump as high as you can, stretching completely, finally gently glide the ball out of the far corner of the post, and fall down in a near horizontal plane. Again, magical.... :_)

So next time you catch the game on TV, don’t forget to watch out for that smile of confidence on the goalie’s face during a penalty shootout.Just a bit of statistics: Usually the goalkeeper of any college team has the most number of lady fans, (should I add, after the center forward of course ? ;_)) :_D

The good bad-minton

What is it that you gain by running to the nook and corner of a 44’ by 17’ rectangular area dissected by lines running parallel and perpendicular to the base lines? You are also restricted to one half of the above mentioned space by two 5’ 1” vertical posts and a 20 mm thick fine cord net with a width of 2’ 6” running across them. All you get to do is hit a crazy feather-y object which is nothing but a cork base covered with a thin layer of leather, on which 16 feathers of approx 70 mm length are fixed, weighing just 5.5 grams. You don’t even get to hit it with ur bare hands, u need to use a frame which is nothing but a circular head with a pattern of crossed guts connected to it, and a handle attached to it, with an overall length of 680 mm.

So, that exactly is what me and many men and women like me like do when we are in the company of one another. Following the foot steps of greats like Allan Budi Kusumo, Joko Supriyanto and our very own Prakash Padukone.

I used to take pride in counting myself as a good (rather very good) badminton player, until I played with Aldrin, my Mumbai roomie… I used to be the school, town, PU college and Engg hostel champion. All the pride shattered like glass when I had my first encounter with Aldrin in the EdenWoods indoor court. 15 – 3. Cant call that a one sided game, right? ;_). One hell of an athlete who wins due to his stamina and will power. I had never seen my smashes being returned with such ease. Then there was this guy Anand. A tactical player with beautiful drops and professional serves.

Aldrin used to drag me to the court on weekends… 1 full bundle of shuttle, juice cartons, chocolates… To EdenWoods indoor court. We used to play for hours together. Often singles against each other. Anand used to join once in a while.

Patni badminton championship was announced and we decided to take the plunge. The three of us and we needed two girls also to form a team of 5. We were lucky enuf to get Sheebs and Laks on our side. They hadn’t played much, but had the will power to learn and master the art in the available short time period. Even though I the boaster suggested names like “Spikers”, “Smashers”, “Serves and Servlets” etc etc for the team, humble Aldrin settled for the modest name “Amateur Shuttlers”.

Practice sessions… 6 o clock bus home… practice till 10 in the night… there were some 5 or 6 teams from our locality, so around 30, 35 people used to be there in the court. It was fun… playing to ur hearts content. Showing off ur smashes, jumps and what not to the female players ;_) and getting those “Wow”s ;_)).

Championship began. 5 people per team. Qualifying rounds. 1 mens singles, 1 womens singles, 1 mixed doubles. Semis and Finals will have womens and mens doubles as well. Aldrin volunteered for the singles. Anand and me for doubles and Either of us and sheebs for mix doubles.

Qualifying rounds were cake walks. Aldrin and Sheebs used to win hands down. Anand and me used to be like”Show off before the match..” ,”high serves”, “smashes”… kind of like crowd entertainers. Other teams were like, “These ‘amateurs’ are damn good… Aldrin is playing damn well; even the 2 guys who havnt played are doing wonders during practice”. Everything was going great. We were having fun. We got into semis easily, without Anand or me playing a single match, but all the while showing off ;_) He used to do his ‘lovely’ net drops from all across the court and I used to do my ‘jump smashes’ from back courts…

The all important Semis!!! We against the title holders, the Dare Devils… They had one of the best female players of Patni. She used to play professionally. So our hope was in winning the mens singles and doubles and mixed doubles, as we were sure that the ladies only events wont come our way.

First match. Aldrin Vs their captain. He too was a mallu, who was not as good as Aldrin on court. But he had the experience of playing in many tourneys. He started using all possible negative tactics, like taking breaks when Aldrin was ready to serve, serving before Aldrin was ready, distracting him, arguing with teh referee and a million other things. Aldrin got irritated and got carried away. End result, he lost the match which we were sure to win. Ok.. Ayway… We still had 4 matches left. Next was mens doubles. Anand and me on the court for our first real match of the tournament. Our confidence level was sky high before the match, not after it started. My jump smashes ended at the nets. My serves landed right in the front box. Even Anand had a bad day in office. Whatever could go wrong went wrong. We were also defeated in straight sets. The rest of the story was predictable as they had the woman champ who defeated our ladies singles player in a rather one sided match. That sums up my Patni baddy championship story, which started as a hilarious comedy but ended as a tragedy. Our hopes which had grown fat like a Hot Air Balloon dropped all of a sudden to sub zero levels, much like this elaborately started but abruptly ended blog post.