Rafael Nadal is not my favourite. That has to be Roger Federer with his one-handed backhand ripping down the line. Over the years, I’ve come to respect Nadal and his muscular game. It works for him. He has been winning titles and Grand Slams. And at 35, he’s won the Australian Open 2022, making the Spaniard the most successful tennis player of all time.
His ungainly game was at the root of my dislike for Nadal. That game has helped him win consistently for over 21 years, and I can only admire his genius. Never mind the graceless strokes, it fetched him a record 21 Grand Slams: at least two of each major. Made him one of the greatest players in tennis history.
Nadal doesn’t have a great serve, but his forehand and double-fisted backhands, honed on claycourts, are fuelled by heavy top-spin. His powerful forearms with rippling muscles help pummel shots with stunning force. Nadal’s athleticism and stamina allow him to sprint around the courts at incredible speeds.
The appeal of McEnroe and Federer
It’s a brutal exhibition of power game. That puts me off. It makes Nadal a less talented player in my book. My tennis heroes were John McEnroe, Stefan Edberg and Roger Federer. Bjorn Borg wasn’t one of them; to me, he was a metronomic player, much like Novak Djokovic.
Maybe, I’m a tennis romantic. I love the silken touch: a drop-volley that dies in the forecourt takes my breath away; a crosscourt backhand that dips at the feet of an onrushing volleyer delights me.
Power players and counter-punchers didn’t appeal to me. I was never a fan of Jimmy Connors or Andres Agassi. Nor did Boris Becker enthuse me, although I marvelled at his precocity.
To me, tennis is a game of arcs and angles. For Nadal, it’s a matter of haring around the court and returning every ball till his opponent makes a mistake. I don’t see tennis in that. It’s more a display of athleticism. There could be a 25-shot rally; not a single shot will stick in my memory.
I love the way players set up points with laser-sharp groundstrokes and finish them with precise passing shots. Or come up to the net and put away volleys for winners. There’s a method and creativity, and the strokes have sheer class written over them. It’s not a slugging session till one of the players wilts.
The biggest contrast is evident in Nadal’s matches against Federer. The Swiss wields his racquet like a rapier, thrusting and parrying. Nadal brandishes his racquet is like mace, bludgeoning the ball as if he hated it. Strangely, the two vastly different styles make for a superb spectacle that has lit up several Grand Slam finals.
Nadal’s enduring success made me sit up and take notice. You have to hand it to the Spaniard. The physicality of his game can take a toll on the body. Yet Nadal continues to rack up trophies to claim his place in the tennis pantheon of greats.
Nadal, no doubt, is one of the greatest. But he’s no genius. I won’t pay to watch him.
