Game, set and match; Federer

My sister never played tennis I don't know what she's doing here.

My earliest memory of tennis is getting ready to go for classes at four in the evening despite the sweltering summer heat in Chennai. My mother decided that I was bouncing around with more energy than is natural for a four year old to display and that the best way to deal with it was to channel it towards a sport. I think I played with some sort of makeshift racquet for the first year or so considering that I was probably tinier than the smallest of racquets at the time. It comes as no surprise therefore that I felt a sense of great achievement when I grew in stature and skill to play with a regular one instead.

I still remember this racquet. The Wilson "W" was etched across the surface of the guts, the part forming the throat between the head and the grip was a startling red and the grip, black. Along the "V" beneath the head was a lovely signature - that of a certain Roger Federer. In the ignorance of infancy, I had no idea who he was, except that I was utterly fascinated by his signature. 

My parents and grandparents have always watched a great deal of sport. By the time I was six years old, I had developed the faculties of recognition and recall -  enough to piece together that the signature on my racquet actually belonged to someone who regularly appeared on television at home. In all my naivete of the time, the only reason I decided that he was the player I liked best was because of my racquet. I mean, dare I display any sort of inclination towards anyone else ?

I thank my stars that my racquet had Roger Federer's signature. I don't think I could have supported any other player all these years so unabashedly, unconditionally and unfailingly.

There are so many reasons to fall in love with his game - the effortless and noiseless ease of his play, a backhand most graceful, the unruly hair falling all over the headband that's desperately trying to serve its purpose, the vulnerability he displays by shedding a tear after victory or loss or just the urge to hear "game, set and match, Federer" once more.

I don't think we realise how lucky we are to exist at the same time as the Big Three. We've been spoiled a little too much; so much so that I find it difficult to watch a game of tennis that does not square up to this benchmark.

Quite a few of my friendships are founded on the sound base of a shared love for tennis. I have argued endlessly with so many friends before each 'Fedal' clash, celebrated Federers' victories boisterously and been downright moody upon his defeat. While the 2008 Wimbledon Final is usually in the limelight, the 2017 Australian Open Championship match unfortuntely fades into the shadows. That was a day when his backhand was invincible and there is a great compilation of these on YouTube here. I remember having some sort of exam on that day and did something I have never done in my life - I rushed to complete the paper well ahead of time just so I could get back home and watch the match because it was a Fedal grand slam final after (dark :P) ages of Djokovic dominance. 

When we visited Wimbledon in 2016, I think the only thought I had was to somehow someday be able to watch Federer play on Centre Court. I knew that the chances of that manifesting were rather slim but hey, he did give me the chance to cling on to hope for the next six years !

It seemed only fair then, that I pen an ode to the player who has made countless people fall in love with the sport. Even in his farewell match, Federer gave us something I hadn't seen before - a cheeky shot that sent the ball right through a hole in the net. For me, there is little to nothing that gets better than music on a rainy day, a good book and watching Roger Federer play tennis.