The Roger Federer experience: One for the bucket list
Eight years ago this month, David Foster Wallace wrote the article that convinced me chasing this dream was worth a shot.
“Federer as Religious Experience” still holds up. It’s required reading for any sports fan who struggles to define the undefinable. Roger Federer served as the perfect muse for a writer considered one of the best of his generation.
That piece didn’t make me a Federer fan. That actually happened back in 2001, but it did provide a goal that up until Thursday night I had yet to accomplish: To see Federer in person. See him play before the opportunity is no longer there.
“Beauty is not the goal of competitive sports, but high-level sports are a prime venue for the expression of human beauty,” Wallace wrote in 2006, as Federer went on to capture his fourth consecutive Wimbledon title.
This version of Federer, the current edition, is still beautiful to watch but the scars are there.
Federer’s third round match against Marin Čilić went the distance, and the 17-time grand slam champion paid for his inability to capitalize on six match points in the 10th game of the second set.
It was a familiar scene for Federer fans who have watched the 33-year-old struggle to close out matches in recent years.
He laughed it off following the match, though. This wasn’t a new thing.
“Well, I mean, look, it's like, I don't know, 23 break points against [Jo-Wilfried] Tsonga in Monaco. That's worse,” he said with a smile.
“So from that standpoint, I have been there before. And it wasn't my, all six match points on my own serve, and it wasn't like I didn't have the chance. So that was good in a way but also frustrating on the other side.”
Čilić managed to hold, and ultimately took the second set in a tiebreak to push Thursday night’s final match to a third set.
At this point, half the crowd remained. Cold temperatures, the colder reality of work the next morning, and the numbing effects of drinking beer for five hours had begun to take its toll. You could sense those who remained stayed for reasons any considerate boss could understand: Are we going to see him again?
Those who stayed were treated to what might be the final act of Federer’s storied career. This wasn’t the player Wallace observed in 2006, the player that blitzed the field with disconcerting ease, pushing around the likes of Andre Agassi at Flushing Meadows.
This was Federer the hard way. Federer broke Čilić at 4-4 in the final set. With the match almost two hours and 40 minutes old, he sealed it with another dominant service game. He wasn’t broken all match. His serve has gotten better with age, back problems be damned. It is why he was able to come within a few strokes of winning Wimbledon.
Waiting for public transit after the match, the smile couldn’t be removed from my face. I saw Roger Federer’s feet skip along the baseline. I saw Roger Federer’s effortless service motion repeated over and over again. I saw Roger Federer, the mortal. I saw Roger Federer, the champion.
This was different from watching television on those mornings when he tried to win the biggest titles in Paris, London and Melbourne.
This experience, shared with some 8,000 strangers, was personal. There was no need for a conversion. We were already followers.