Beauty in tennis: a must?
Everyone knows Roger Federer is regarded as one of the most elegant tennis players, if not the most, in the history of tennis. Not off-court, where money can buy photographers, suits, boots, good lighting, which make just about anyone incredibly gentleman-y. On-court. His shots, his movement, his je-ne-sais-quoi that earned him nicknames such as Maestro, and his game the descriptive of “Poetry in Motion.”
Federer was, for the most part of the 2000’s and at least half of the 2010’s, regarded as the Greatest of All Time (GOAT for short, ironically, since one does not exactly imagine a goat munching on grass as the epitome of elegance.) His game style was, or is, a major part of why people like him. A carefully curated persona around his game helps this: Federer as the timeless classic image of a man, the tennis equivalent of James Bond without the political issues around him (he is Swiss, after all.)
An effective tennis player who, in the beginning of his reign, went unchallenged. No one came near the player Federer used to be, being beaten by a player who was not only fighting, playing intelligently and hitting impossible shots, but doing so seamlessly effortlessly. No sweat. The world was in slow motion, and Federer danced his waltz in perfect tempo. The best of drummers jealous of him, he doesn’t even need quantizing! It’s all live, and with improvisation weaved into the hours of practice.
The elegance of Federer is mesmerizing. He wins, and wins, and is not beaten by nearly anyone, no one except the ones willing to make a god suffer, and with enough strength to do so. Nadal and Djokovic are Kratos to Federer’s Zeus. Zeus dies in the God of War series, by the way, which is a perfect demonstration of the will power of Nadal and Djokovic, both putting Federer as a clear 3rd best of all time.
The beauty in tennis is not necessary to win matches, to win titles, to win Grand Slams (probably the least of all things you try to improve in order to win a major is how pretty you hit a forehand.)
But beauty is a sign. A delicious visual representation that confirms ability, that a player like Federer has not only mastered the elements, the game, the mind, but also perfected the body, perfectly (or peRFeclty) in tune with the tactics and technique.
Federer’s technique is nearly impeccable, an early sign that he was made for the game. The brilliance of finding a player who had all the qualities to become great. Of course, Roger was just a boy once, and a pretty rebel one. Surely, broken rackets, disobedience in youth, mental weakness and a backhand topspin drive that was far less than impressive in his early days, were not quite the signs of 20 major titles, 310 weeks at №1, 237 of which held consecutively. But he looked like he was made for the sport.
Beauty isn’t necessary for tennis. Not for the athlete. But recognizing the beauty in Federer’s game is seeing that he has achieved great control of his body. It is equated to art, like dancing, where we literally notice how the people on stage mastered the full control of their bodies in a way that the audience is tricked into thinking it takes no effort. But God knows if you try a ballet step your body is not ready for, you might get a stiff back for a week.
Tennis is, however, a sport. It doesn’t matter if you hit pretty shots, it doesn’t matter how effortlessly you move, if you effortlessly lose. That is the sole reason why Federer’s elegance and Poetry-in-Motion qualities do not weigh into how great a tennis player he is, meaning how good he is at playing and winning matches. It is great, though, to assess how great an athlete he is. It is easy even for the most untrained pair of eyes to see that Federer is, in fact, a good tennis player. Why he kept losing to Nadal, on the other hand, is a matter of actual tennis knowledge. Nadal was fast and exploited weaknesses in Federer’s game that are unrelated to the latter’s ability to move around the court like he is gliding.
To conclude this piece, written on whim in about 20 minutes in a café, no, beauty and elegance are not necessary in tennis. Unless you’re only playing exhibitions, in that case it’s not the sport itself, it’s a show that uses tennis as a tool. But beauty is important for many fans, and so long as we can appreciate that Federer really is a wonder to watch and still understand that this isn’t what won his matches and in no way makes him better or worse than Rafael Nadal or Novak Djokovic (who also mastered their bodies to play the game, just in a different way,) we can all get along, appreciate one-handed backhands, lefty forehands with impossible RPM’s, and sliding double-handed backhand passing shots.
Tennis is beautiful. Just in many different ways.