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ROLAND GARROS 2014 - SATURDAY 7 JUNE IP: 46.255.183.159 Posted on June 7, 2014 at 10:09:46 PM by David Barnes
ROLAND GARROS 2014
SATURDAY 7 JUNE (DAY 14)
The Ladies Legends Tour is well-named, given the participation of luminaries such as the evergreen Martina Navratilova, who was partnering Kim Clijsters today in the final against the all-French pairing of Nathalie Dechy and Sandrine Testud. At this level, there is not the kind of on-court commitment (thankfully in some respects) from Navratilova as there is from someone like Maria Shriekapova, who was on later on Philippe Chatrier, but when you’ve won 59 Grand Slam titles overall (two more than her age in years), as Navratilova has, you can afford to take it relatively easy. Play was briefly suspended at 5-5 in the first set of this match, due to a few spots of rain, which I thought somewhat unnecessary, since the biggest danger of physical injury seemed to be when the players touched hands or exchanged high fives after rallies, rather than from any extremes of movement round the court.
Martina is still in fabulous shape, given her age, with the merest hint of some excess fat on the tummy, and the legs above the knee. Mind you, have you looked closely at Tomas Berdych’s lower thighs, just above his knees? They are very strange. Maybe it’s a Czech athlete thing that Martina, for all her years in the USA, hasn’t quite shaken off. Her physical robustness is also partly down to diet; she went gluten-free a few years ago. I especially liked her comment on the AARP [so much snappier than its old title of ‘American Association of Retired Persons] website; “All my life I've gone against the grain, and now I'm doing it with my diet”. Quite clever, that.
Martina seems to have picked up some on-court tics, by the way, most notably that of asking the ballboy for a ball before serving, only to bat it away with the racket and ask for another. This doesn’t quite rival Rafa’s OCD-like on court behaviour (by which I don’t mean his more or less annual acceptance of the trophy here at the end of the first week of June), but it may be a start. L’Equipe newspaper, never one to shy away from controversy in the pursuit of a good story, devoted a whole article the other day to quizzing Rafa about his mannerisms, and wrung from him the admission that there are one or two that he thinks he would never be able to give up.
For the record, Martina and Kim won their final, in the decider. The sun shone and the spectators, who could be counted in the hundreds only when the match started but were now in their thousands, were left in a decidedly contented mood. As was Martina, yet another trophy safely tucked under her arm, after a gracious speech of thanks to Clijsters who, she felt, had contributed to winning the silverware rather more than she had. The McEnroe brothers came on court next, playing Pat Cash and Paul Haarhuis in the semi-final of their equivalent tournament, and won 6-4, 6-2. ‘Johnny Mac’, as the American hacks call him, remains as competitive as ever. He was asked on court afterwards about how he saw tomorrow’s Rafa/Djokovic final. “Their [semi-final] match last year was the best match I’ve ever seen on a clay court. I’m hoping for five long sets”. And with that, pausing only to sign the camera lens, as is obligatory for the winner, he was off to fulfil his media commitments, leaving his brother to sign the autographs.
Maria Sharapova, champion here in 2012, beaten finalist (by Serena Williams) last year, had met her opponent Simona Halep three times before, most recently last month in the Madrid final, when the Russian girl triumphed 1-6, 6-2, 6-3 - yet another sluggish ‘Why can’t I win a first set?’ start for Sharapova (she slipped up in that respect here this year against Sam Stosur in the 4th round, Garbine Muguruza in the quarterfinal, and Eugenie Bouchard in the semis). I guess if you’re a glass of vodka half full sort of a player, looking at those results, you can be confident about your ability to come through tough three-setters when it really matters, which it seldom does on the WTA tour other than in the final of a Grand Slam.
In her pre-final press conference (yawn, yawn – Halep had the good sense not to agree to do one) Sharapova said of the Romanian; “I think in the last year she's proven that's she's able to have great results consistently. I think that's a very great quality in a player, to be able to be so consistent from week in week out. I think she won six titles last year. That's pretty impressive. She has a very solid game. She is very physical opponent. Always a very physical match against her, and you must be ready to play however long it takes to win the match against her”. Prophetic, sting-in-the-tail sort of stuff, that. Not unlike a glass of particularly strong vodka.
French TV had rather a nice shot of Halep sitting alone, as she waited for la Sharapova to appear just before going out on court, in front of a TV screen showing the matches coming up – just hers, and the Boys Singles. Then the ice maiden came and they both went on. I watched their warm-up, then stuck it out for two games before having to leave and watch on another TV, my ears hurt so much already. Long enough to see the Russian lose her opening service game, with several costly forehand errors and a double fault for good measure. Sharapova managed not to shriek once during the warm-up, but as soon as the match began she just couldn’t help herself. Talk about a nervous tic. Someone should do something about it. It’s rumoured that at Wimbledon the sound carries all the way to Southfields Underground station.
The tennis, meanwhile, especially in the early part of the first set, defied expectations – it was of a stunningly high standard. If Halep had any nerves, she was not showing them. Having been broken, Sharapova had a run of four games in a row, breaking serve twice, to go 4-2 up, but the Romanian fought back with a break of her own, saved two set points at 4-5 down but not a third. 57 minutes of pulsating tennis. Not that often has one been able to say that about a women’s final at Roland Garros in recent years.
Sharapova’s brilliance in attack gave her an early break in the 2nd set, but Halep answered her with a break of her own in the next game. The Romanian saved two break points at 4-4, broke the Russian to go 5-4 up, but was broken herself for 5-5. In the tie-break Halep made four backhand errors and was always behind, but nudged ahead after three Sharapova forehand errors. The Romanian is never more dangerous than when facing ‘must win’ points. A sort of feminine Rafa really. A backhand, wide from the Russian, gave her the set. “More twists and turns than a French Alpine pass” was Mark Petchey’s unusually witty summary on ITV.
At this point Sharapova continued the mind games that she had been playing throughout the match by taking an overlong toilet break and changing her dress. The third set was equally as fascinating, electric and dramatic as the first two, the Russian finally edging it 6-4 despite a hugely uneven performance. The emotions overflowed. I left during the Russian national anthem in case the Russian shrieked again, thinking she was still in the match. She probably said pretty much what she’d said in her pre-match press conference anyway, plus lots of thanks to her team and her parents. She wins 1,650,000 euros, which buys a lot of macaroons.
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David Barnes/Topspin, 2014
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