WIMBLEDON, England – There he was, a surprise, perhaps the biggest of these fortnights at Wimbledon: Roger Federer in person on Center Court on Sunday.
As always, he looked handsome and freshly ironed. But instead of his white tennis attire, Federer wore a smart dark suit to celebrate Center Court’s 100th anniversary.
Flanked by a string of previous Wimbledon champions, Federer was only there briefly, but no player was greeted louder. Not Bjorn Borg. Not Venus Williams. Not Rod Laver or Billie Jean King, not Rafael Nadal or Novak Djokovic.
For the first time since 1998, when he announced himself to the tennis world by winning the junior event, Federer is not playing at Wimbledon. At the age of 40, he is still in rehab after surgery on his right knee and unsure of his future playing career.
“I’ve been lucky enough to play a lot of games on this pitch,” said Federer, speaking into a microphone, his voice echoing across the pitch. He added, “It feels awkward being here today in a different kind of role.”
He continued for a while, bathing in the warm worship and absorbing the old stadium and its memories. “This dish has given me my biggest wins and my biggest losses,” he said.
“I hope I can come back again.”
The fans sitting around me on Center Court went crazy.
And then Federer was gone.
Wimbledon 2022 has been a strange journey. Instead of the usual electric energy that heralds the peak of the tennis season and the start of the English summer every day, the feeling was a little off – like a master fiddler struggling for just the right note.
During the first four days, attendance dropped to levels not seen in over a decade. The exclusion of Russians and Belarusians deprived the tournament of several prominent names, including the world’s best man, Daniil Medvedev. Her exclusion sparked protests from both the men’s and women’s tours, who decided not to officially recognize the results with ranking points, essentially making the entire affair the most lavish tennis exhibition of all time.
That’s some powerful punches.
But there’s something else that feels about this Wimbledon.
Instead of storming into the second week of the tournament as the men’s favorite and the fans’ hopeful winner of a tournament where he is worshiped like a god, Federer floated along for the centenary and was then supposed to fly back to Switzerland.
The tournament continues. But a Wimbledon without Federer is like a Wimbledon where there are strawberries but no cream.
How do you explain the power of absence? Perhaps from the shock of looking at the men’s draw and not seeing the most famous name. Or a fan’s scream, loud and truthful during a prime-time game last week.
“Is that Roger Federer?” someone shouted, the voice echoing across Court No. 1 during a tense late-night match between two boys, Stefanos Tsitsipas and Nick Kyrgios.
The scream was directed at Tsitsipas of Greece, whose one-handed backhand and flowing shots are reminiscent of the eight-time champion.
Closing is not the real thing. Tsitsipas is not a Federer.
There’s no guarantee Federer will ever play here again, although we now know he hopes to. “I think maybe there’s a bit of magic left,” said Tony Godsick, Federer’s longtime agent, as we walked the grounds last week.
“I’m not sure magic means holding up a trophy,” added Godsick. “Magic is going out on your own terms, being healthy, and enjoying it.” He looked out onto one of the grass pitches. “There will be places where he can do better because of the nature of the surface,” he said. “But if it doesn’t happen, he gave it his all.”
The deep, even ethereal, connection Federer has with this vine-clad Taj Mahal of tennis is more than longevity.
Part of that is style. Wimbledon is white linen, burnished gold, light cotton trim, ascots and the Duke and Duchess of Kent in the royal box. Everything about the sophisticated Federer suits this palace, from his old-school game to his gliding way of walking.
Part of it is substance: the fine art of winning. Federer was world champion in 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012 and 2017.
Part of it loses but weathered the storm the right way.
For a while, the Swiss player seemed unbeatable on the deep-cut pitch. Then came Nadal. When Nadal finally defeated Federer in the final in 2008, their match was considered one of the greatest ever played. Who can forget Federer’s comeback, his saved match points and Nadal’s insatiable desire? The match ended in the fading sunlight, 9-7 in the fifth set, with Federer shedding tears of agony.
Suddenly he seemed vulnerable, human, within reach. In a tournament he’d possessed for five straight summers, showing weakness and handling it with grace made Federer more popular than ever.
For the fervently loyal fans of Nadal and Djokovic, he was the perfect match, the one they could fight fiercest, the one player they most wanted to defeat and send off with their heads bowed.
In the last great match we saw him play at Wimbledon, possibly the last great match of his career, the 2019 Marathon Championship Final, Federer saved two match points while serving against Djokovic. The Serb won both by tracking down the last of them by sliding across the baseline and, as he so often does, producing a winning pass shot. About an hour later, he won the match 13-12 in the fifth set tiebreak.
Watching Djokovic play on Center Court last week, it was impossible not to think of this classic. There he was again, the defending champion, racing down the same baseline with the same unwavering determination he had snatched victory from his longtime rival. Djokovic could well win this year’s tournament, which would earn him seven Wimbledon titles in total. But outside of his devoted fans – and yes, there are many – it doesn’t really stir the soul to watch him smash through opponents with metronomic efficiency and tight-lipped swagger.
He’s a miracle, all right. That’s what a microwave oven is like.
Then I saw Jannik Sinner from Italy, 20, who is little known outside of tennis but is considered a potential future force in it. Sinner might not win Wimbledon this year, but there’s a good chance he will one day.
On Sunday, Sinner hit his forehand against another precocious talent, 19-year-old Carlos Alcaraz, with a consistent mix of high speed and daring cornering. He added aces, drop shots and deep returns. The crowd on Center Court swayed, fainting at his every move.
It was reminiscent of the energy that surrounded a certain Swiss player at the start of his great Wimbledon career. It was a reminder of how greatness gives way to greatness from generation to generation – and a reminder that Federer wasn’t there to keep the youth in check. At least not this year. Maybe next.