Personal Tragedy

When my dad died in 2016, I received lots of heartfelt condolences. Yesterday, when Federer announced his retirement, my phone blew up from morning to night with messages from friends and family.

"Saul, are you okay?"

"Saul, I'm so sorry."

"Saul, don't kill yourself."

"Saul, now you can kill yourself!"

To those of you who reached out, thank you for your compassion. To those of you who didn't, go fuck yourself.

Whoever you are, I want you to know one thing: I'm good.

When my dad died, I mourned his death, but mostly I celebrated his life. Yesterday, when Federer announced his retirement, I felt sad his career was ending, but mostly I celebrated his greatness. It is this greatness that allowed me to sleep peacefully last night.

Federer is a pure genius on the tennis court. He is a master of the game. He personifies tennis perfection.

Federer is the greatest of all of time.

The Greatest of All Time. 

The GOAT.

If you don't care about tennis, I suggest you stop reading now. If you do care, prepare for enlightenment.

Don't be confused by big numbers.

Nadal has 22 Grand Slams, Djokovic has 21, and Federer has 20. Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points in one game, averaged over 50 points per game in the 1961-62 season, and claimed to have had sex with 20,000 women, but no one considers him the GOAT.

Why? Because being the most dominant in your era does not make you the GOAT. Every era has a dominant player, and thus the GOAT conversation demands that we look across eras, and thus that we speculate and discuss hypotheticals, which I will do shortly. But first a little tennis history.

In 2001, Goran Ivanisevic and Patrick Rafter, neither of whom knew much about hitting groundstrokes, played in the finals of Wimbledon. The very next year, in 2002, Lleyton Hewitt and David Nalbandian, neither of whom knew much about hitting volleys, played in the finals of Wimbledon. See what happened was that after the 2001 tournament ended, Wimbledon ripped up all of its courts and installed 100% ryegrass, which yields higher bounces and slows the game down. Before 2001, most players served and volleyed. Today, almost no one does, and man is it boring to watch.

Wimbledon wasn't the only tournament to slow down its courts. The US Open, the Australian Open, and pretty much every other hard court in the world slowed down their surface, once again advantaging baseliners and fucking serve-and-volleyers in the arse.

Even tennis balls themselves have become softer and slower. Remember those tennis balls from the 80s that turned into lacrosse balls after 10 minutes? Now after 10 minutes tennis balls turn into my Saturday morning oatmeal with peanut butter, strawberries, and honey: sloppy mush.

But more important than the courts and the balls is the string.

In 1997, Gustavo Kuerten became the first player to win a Grand Slam using polyester string. Within a few years, everyone was using poly. In case you don't know anything about anything, poly strings give players the ability to put an incredible amount of top spin on the ball and, essentially, hit any shot from anywhere. Picture Nadal or Djokovic or, for that matter, any of today's strong-legged scrubs 20 feet behind the baseline, deep in the corner, on the full run. Somehow, magically, they're still able to hit a winner. That shot did not exist 20 years ago.

In other words, slower surfaces, mushy balls, and poly strings have transformed tennis from a battle between serve-and-volleyers and baseliners (think Edberg v. Chang) to a battle between baseliners and baseliners (think every/any player on the tour today v. every/any player on the tour today). It is not an exaggeration to say that 97%, if not 99%, of professional players today play almost entirely from the baseline, and fuck it's so boring to watch.

Okay so why am I talking about all this and what does this have to do with my dad dying?

Well, nothing. But it has a shit load to do with Federer being the undisputed GOAT.

Federer is a natural serve-and-volleyer. He has a one-handed backhand and a beautiful backhand slice, and he has always loved attacking and coming to net. How did he make a name for himself in the juniors? Serve and volley. How did he beat Sampras in 2001 at Wimbledon? Serve and volley. How did he play for as long as possible until he and everyone else realized that playing that way simply couldn't win matches? Serve and volley. 

In other words, Federer had to adjust his own game to be successful in the era in which he played. He had to stay back more and come to net less. He had to engage in 20-ball ralleys with studs like Nadal and Djokovic when he obviously would have preferred to slice and dice, chip and charge, and serve and volley. That's how good Federer is: He won 20 Grand Slams despite today's courts, balls, and strings. 

Think about that for a second.

If your head didn't just explode, keep reading.

The opposite is true for Nadal and Djokovic, who were born and bred to be ultimate baseliners. Nadal woke up one day, had a delicious paella breakfast, and said to himself, "Hijo de puta! All I have to do is stay 10 feet behind the baseline, put huge amounts of topspin on the ball, and I can win basically every tournament I play in, even Wimbledon?? Vamos!!"

Djokovic woke up one day, masturbated into his Serbian flag, and said to himself, "Срање! All I have to do is become a human Gumbie, move side to side like fucking windshield wipers, and I can win basically every tournament I play in, even Wimbledon? Kill the Bosniaks!!"

To be clear, Nadal and Djokovic are extraordinary champions with not mushy balls. All I'm saying is that they have benefitted tremendously from this era because they can play the exact same way every day at every tournament on every surface. Like I said, don't be fooled by the big numbers.

But let's stay focused: This isn't a comparison of Federer, Nadal, and Djokovic. This is a comparison of all players across time and eras because that's what the GOAT question demands.

Wilt Chamberlain was the best of his era because he was 7'1 and 275 pounds. Everyone else was a foot shorter, 100 pounds lighter, and presumably lacking in penis length and girth. If you put Shaquille O'Neal in that era, he's every bit as great. But if you put Wilt in Shaq's era, he's a good player and maybe a great player but definitely not a 50 points per game player.

If Michael Jordan played in 2022, he'd score 50 every night. If Steph Curry played in 1982, he'd be injured within a week. If Pete Sampras played in 2022, he wouldn't be top 100 in the world. If Carlos Alcaraz (recent US Open champion) played in 1982, he would do really really well......on clay.

If Nadal played in 1982, he still would have won nearly every French Open he played. But that's about it. If Federer had played in 1982, not only would he have played (and, to be fair, lost to Nadal) in every French Open final, but he also would have won every other fucking tournament. The only player before this current era of tennis to dominate on all surfaces was Borg. Federer is Borg 2.0. 

Here's yet another example of what I'm talking about if you're not convinced because you're a total idiot:

Everyone agrees that Sampras was a better player than Agassi, but if Sampras and Agassi had played in today's era with today's courts, balls, and string, Agassi would have won more Grand Slams than Sampras, would have had a winning head-to-head, and would have never gone down the dangerous yet intriguing road of meth.

Time matters. Eras matter. The Greatest of an Era does not equal the Greatest of All Time. Don't be fooled by big numbers.

There is one word to describe Federer which no one uses to describe Nadal or Djokovic (or Sampras or Agassi or anyone else). This word, more than any other, demonstrates his genius. This word, all by itself, captures Federer's greatness.

Transcendent. 

Federer transcends his era. Federer transcends time.

Federer is the GOAT.

And because I have been lucky enough to witness his greatness from start to finish, I am not sad.

Though I do miss my dad sometimes. Love you, dad.