Andy Roddick: My favourite second-best player
THE days stretch long for a hack at Wimbers but there was always time for a pit stop. In my case, this normally involved stealing the hubcaps from the Bentleys in Church Road. This nod towards Possil was normally followed by a refill at the media restaurant. Once ensconced in front of un poisson avec les pommes frites et strawberries brulee, there was not much that could drag me away.
However, there were two events that would set me racing like a greyhound that has just spotted a screening of Roger Rabbit. If a Roger Federer or Andy Roddick press conference was announced, I was on my bike so quick the stewards couldn’t complain about me bringing it into the restaurant.
Federer has two routines. The winning press conference, when he tries but fails to be humble, and the losing press conference, when he tries but fails to praise his opponent. This is not a criticism, merely an observation that when one is that great then it comes with more baggage than David Livingstone and his pals carried down the Zambezi.
Roddick was different. He comes from Omaha, Nebraska, which might not be Nowhere but is so close to it a taxi driver will refuse the fare and advise you to walk. If Roddick was in the room, then I careered in with enthusiasm. And, of course, with the remains of a fish supper on my coupon.
He could be funny, direct, rude, off-hand, focused, serious and downright dismissive. All in about 10 questions. He was always liable to stand up and leave when a silly question was directed his way. Being Wimbledon, this could happen with a weary regularity. But Roddick brought mischief, humour and insight to his media duties and I loved him for it. His character had a lightness but one suspected there was always a shadow that occasionally dimmed his outlook.
There is no chance of a queue forming outside Wimbledon to feel sorry for a grand slam winner who won $20m in prize money and married a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model. But Roddick had his troubles and they generally came in the shape of Federer. Asked once pre-tournament about his chances of lifting the title, Roddick answered: “As good as anybody not named Roger.”
His grand slam haul was restricted to one US Open largely because of Federer’s brilliance. Roddick reached three Wimbledon finals and Roger did him in each, most brutally in 2009. In five sets, Roddick lost his serve once. In the last game. Asked once what his favourite word was, the American replied: “The F word, because it’s a noun, adjective and a verb.”
The Federer word was more of a curse on Roddick. He has said that if he could edit his past, he would change one thing: “I would have loved to have won Wimbledon.”
To have come so close to realising that ambition must gnaw at him. In 2009, a missed backhand volley at the net probably cost him the title. The subsequent remoteness of challenging in grand slams possibly hastened his retirement.
At 32, he is a year younger than Fed. Roddick, though, is in the commentary box at Wimbledon for the BBC while Federer seeks to add to his record haul of majors. Roddick brings wit, technical knowledge and experience to his new role. He is sharp, too, on character and will be a media sensation if he can keep to his professed ambition and his past performance of being honest in assessing those he once played against. This is the most difficult task for the reasonable human being. One has to be critical of those who one likes, even respects. Roddick’s views are likely to be leavened by the experience of having been there and not quite having done it at Wimbledon.
There will be understanding, perhaps even compassion, for those who come up short. But I cannot wait for him to commentate on a Federer match. The Greatest Player of All Time is on a campaign to win an eighth Wimbledon title. There are those who believe that Federer, who will be 34 next month, is tilting at windmills with a strand of cooked spaghetti.
It is three years since he won a grand slam and the list of those who have beaten him in majors since includes names that are far from illustrious such as Sergiy Stakhovsky and Andreas Seppi. These are both good players but once they would not have laid a glove on Fed. The great Swiss player has proved he can still win tournaments but can he win a slam when seven opponents have to be defeated in two weeks?
Recent evidence suggests not and Roddick just may have to compose a eulogy for the death of a Federer dream. Whatever happens, Federer still has the capacity to be the story at Wimbledon. Roddick, in contrast, can merely supply some words.
He could be forgiven for reflecting on what might have been if a backhand volley had been made or if a young Swiss boy had stuck to football. What has made Federer great has added to Roddick’s humanity. The American will have his views on the balance of that deal.
Asked once pre-tournament about his chances of winning Wimbledon, the American replied they were as good as those of anyone not called Roger