The tennis season has begun - of course, some might say it began at the start of the month; but the real pumped-up action started at Melbourne Park yesterday. And in the two days of the yearly 14-day ritual, there have already been notched up, some memorable matches and some players; who have just stood out.
I have been watching tennis since the past three-and-a-half years and I still do not understand as to how did I become such a consummate tennis fan from the consummate tennis hater that I was. And just when I have these thoughts swirling, I happen to catch a match that makes me not just love the game more but turns every second thought about my being a tennis fan - absolutely null and void.
Australian Open - Day 2 - Night Session - Rod Laver Arena: David Nalbandian vs Lleyton Hewitt
It was always tricky to begin with. I mean, you put a guy like Nalbandian who has always been known as a player with lots of potential and calibre, albeit he has never won any slam; against a player who has won two slams and who might have had a few more, if his knees would not have given up on him - Hewitt.
The result could have never been put on paper. Punters might have predicted a result, face it; it's their job - predictions. But even as one would have predicted a result, how could one have predicted the scores? That would have been difficult. Certain things are straightforward; while certain, it's best if they are as twisted and convoluted as the words sound.
The match proceedings were earnestly watched. What's that popular term authors use in their literary works -
the air was buzzing with electricity; the atmosphere charged as though something huge was going to manifest. Rusty in black and Nalby in white; they could have been dopplegangers sponsored by the same brand. Dark and White; it was a battle of an altogether different nature.
Rusty drew the 'first blood' as the phrase goes by securing a break and eventually by virtue of a second break in the ninth game, the first set. That unique fist pumping he does, it was flashing like a snake flashing its fangs. The crowd went berserk and, punters who had piled their bets on Nalby, would have definitely felt things starting to slide.
But the Argentinian was not done. That's the thing in tennis matches; you are not down and out till you commit a double fault or a forced error or an unforced error or the opposite guy serves an ace or notches up a winner. He was firmly in command in the second set - in the driver's seat, so to speak - and Rusty found himself facing the chance of playing either a four setter or a five setter looming even more strongly after losing by the similar margin that had won him the first set: 6-3.
Entrez third set and again Hewitt found himself broken and this time lost the third set 4-6. Fourth set and the match was gaining more and more momentum by the minute. Not that the match was not rapturous. It was a beauty in the over four hours of its gameplay. The groundstrokes were created to perfection, at certain times it became difficult to point who was the better player; both of them were pouring their heart and soul in the match so much so that the intensity was palpable and almost visible at times.
Eighth game of the fourth set, optimism started to wane at one end and soared at the other. Hewitt was facing a Nalbandian who began to serve for the match. But then, the last point was yet not over. A couple of errors and a couple of scintillating winners from the Aussie did the trick. Back on serve and the match tilted in Rusty's favour. The set went to a tie-break that the Aussie won despite being broken in the very second point of the tie-break.
Two sets all. Final Set. Same situation as the fourth. The Argentinian broke, tried to serve for the match at 5-4, ended up allowing the Aussie to peek back into the game at 5-5. And then came the 11th and the 12th game. Held strongly by both players. As was the next. And then suddenly, Rusty found himself facing two match points in the 14th game. Both squandered or rather, both saved spectacularly by Nalbandian. 15th game, Rusty found himself two BP down and was broken successfully. Nalbandian, once again, found himself serving for the match.
The Aussie fans were completely behind their guy. Chants resounded and echoed. But more than their chants, it was the physical momentum that was needed for the Aussie. Twice he had thwarted Nalby serving out before - once for the set and once for the match. He just needed to prove he could be third time lucky too. 15-15 and everything seemed possible. But then, the score shifted to 30-15 and then it was 40-15. And then it was all over. Finito. Like a storm that dissipates after showing its power and force, it subsided.
One can only try so much. Both the players tried, battling fatigue and cramps before there emerged a winner. It was perhaps harsh on Hewitt that he had to lose in such a fashion, but the only and the most important saving grace for Rusty was perhaps the fact that he did not give it up. He fought to win and to stay in the match before finally succumbing to a valiant and brave death.
