Federer: In Truth and Beauty
Asher Packman respectfully invokes the spirit of David Foster Wallace in paying homage to Roger Federer’s 1000 wins on the ATP Tour.
A version of this essay first appeared in The Huffington Post on January 22, 2015
Driving home along the coast last weekend, my journey was accompanied by the dulcet tones of a sports radio broadcaster. He was discussing the fact that ‘Roger’ was in action, playing a final in a bid to notch up his 1000th win at ATP level.
Roger. It made me wonder how many other sporting greats are recognisable — and openly discussed — by their first names only. It’s certainly select company. It’s been that way in Australia with Roger as long as I can remember. We’re a colloquial bunch, but nonetheless, it’s rare air.
As it turned out, Roger took the title and subsequently his place among the very greatest to have won 1000 matches since the Open era began in 1968, namely Jimmy Connors and Ivan Lendl.
In a discussion of Federer’s most recent milestone, one could list all his achievements — but they are too numerous to mention — and there is really nothing more that can be said about the man than already has. This is simply a story about truth and beauty.
The Federer technique is an homage to the history of the game. It’s classic and sublime — stunningly beautiful. Remarkably, it has stood the test of time. We’ve been blessed to witness the ultimate in sport — the contest between beauty and the beast — with the rise of the aggressive two-fisters and the Goliaths with the bludgeoning serves attempting to topple the King. It’s been a battlefield but at 33-years-old, he has largely withstood the barrage, looking this year as likely a threat to the top spot as he ever has.
He said after the achievement — with a wry smile — that he was happy to hang around for a few more years and let the younger guys get an opportunity to play against him and maybe even “beat up on him a bit” — his physical skill only matched by his humility and respect for the game.
With all this in mind, I can think of no better opportunity than to revisit the work of arguably Federer’s greatest admirer and one the most talented writers of his generation, David Foster Wallace.
Author Zadie Smith once described Foster Wallace as “a visionary, a craftsmen… he’s in a different time-space continuum from the rest of us.” I think the same can be said of his muse.
The world lost Foster Wallace to suicide at the age of 46 but so much remains — including his spectacular essay ‘Roger Federer as Religious Experience’. For fans of either man, I urge you to read it.
Here is a sample:
A top athlete’s beauty is next to impossible to describe directly. Or to evoke. Federer’s forehand is a great liquid whip, his backhand a one-hander that he can drive flat, load with topspin, or slice — the slice with such snap that the ball turns shapes in the air and skids on the grass to maybe ankle height. His serve has world-class pace and a degree of placement and variety no one else comes close to; the service motion is lithe and uneccentric, distinctive (on TV) only in a certain eel-like all-body snap at the moment of impact. His anticipation and court sense are otherworldly, and his footwork is the best in the game — as a child, he was also a soccer prodigy. All this is true, and yet none of it really explains anything or evokes the experience of watching this man play. Of witnessing, firsthand, the beauty and genius of his game. You more have to come at the aesthetic stuff obliquely, to talk around it, or — as Aquinas did with his own ineffable subject — to try to define it in terms of what it is not.
Legend has it Foster Wallace only spent 20 minutes with Federer to produce this epic piece — often referred to as one of sports journalism’s most famous write-arounds.
My version appears in a book of Foster Wallace essays suitably-titled ‘Both Flesh and Not’ — another reference to his description of Federer.
My mind wanders to what he would say of Federer today, over eight years since his masterpiece.
I’d suggest he’d simply comment that nothing much has changed. Federer continues to captivate crowds with his otherworldly skill — perhaps it’s just that his experiences have now led to a little more wisdom. An innate aspect to Federer that somehow grows with every trophy he adds to his cabinet.
Congratulations to Roger on a remarkable 1000 wins and to Foster Wallace: your admiration was clearly not misplaced.
The expression of truth and beauty, in words as in movement, has never been more apparent:
Genius is not replicable. Inspiration, though, is contagious, and multiform — and even just to see, close up, power and aggression made vulnerable to beauty is to feel inspired and (in a fleeting, mortal way) reconciled.
POSTSCRIPT: With the recent announcement of Roger Federer’s retirement, I offer nothing more than a deep bow. Thank you for providing so much joy over the years. Watching your grace and ease with racquet in hand is, for me, akin to listening to a great symphony, or reading a classic poem. For just a moment, I glimpse something more than this ordinary plane of existence — a god-sip, a taste of the mythic.
