Category: Uncategorized (So Far)

Changes Afoot

For those of you still checking in here regularly, some of the daily publishing might be about to get, um, a bit boring: Last night I finally finally FINALLY had the insight I needed to start reformatting and reorganizing Free Refills. Expect quite a few Inside Baseball-type pieces as I begin work to bring my vision of the site into reality.

The point of doing so will be two-fold. I want to document the work and the ideas behind it, and I want to create something of a map for people to follow if what I’m doing here is successful–“successful” being defined as “supportive of my goal of fully making my living through writing.”

So maybe it won’t be boring, I don’t know. Free Refills is predicated on the observation that publishing in the age of the Internet shouldn’t look exactly like publishing before it. Free Refills aims to be on the cutting edge of the transition that, even twenty-plus years into the Internet age, we are only now beginning to make.

Also, the Inside Baseball stuff won’t be the only stuff I publish. I’m building Free Refills into a major aspect of my life, and even I would find that boring.

Genius

The word genius gets thrown about so often, so lightly, that it barely carries any meaning anymore. But if your dinner is a three-quarter-pound NY strip steak, cooked a perfect rare and topped with green chile, what other word makes sense?

Wimbledon: Venus, Mugu, Cilic and Fed

Wimbledon left not with a bang but a whimper. We saw two of the more disappointing finals in recent memory. That’s too bad, after what was such a thrilling tournament. But despite a lack of competitiveness in the finals, each final told us an interesting story about each of the finalists.

Venus

For the first ten games, Venus battled hard. Her play looked solid, mostly. She did struggle mightily in her fourth service game, somehow managing to hold serve despite three double-faults. Many of those serves ended up in the net, which is often a sign of tired legs. So perhaps that game offered evidence that Venus was not actually at her best, that the accumulated fatigue of the past few weeks, both physical and otherwise, had caught up with her. Nevertheless, she had two set points against Mugu’s serve at 4-5 15-40. Mugu saved both, and from there, Venus didn’t win another game.

What ends up being most striking about Venus’s performance, then, was the totality of her capitulation. No matter how well Mugu was playing–and she certainly was playing well–Venus’s collapse defies easy explanation. Venus has a big first serve and a solid second serve. Add in that they were playing on grass, the surface that gives the greatest edge to the server, and it’s clear that Venus should have been able to serve her way to at least a couple of games in the second set. Instead, after she failed to convert on those set points, it looked like she was deeply intent on getting the hell off the court as quickly as possible.

We’re forced, I think, to consider Venus something of an enigma. She evidently loves her job–she says so in interviews all the time, and what else would keep a 37-year-old woman with a bank account like Venus’s continuing with the grind of tour-level tennis besides that she actually enjoys it? Over the course of her career, she’s certainly proved to be one of the all-time greats. This year, at 37 years old, she’s twice this made Slam finals. Her performances have been undeniably impressive.

Well, except in the finals themselves. All too often throughout her career, Venus has failed to show up on the biggest stages. So many of her much-hyped finals with Serena over the years were dogs; it’s pretty clear that she just doesn’t like playing her kid sister. I forgot that earlier this year for the Australian Open final, but boy did Venus remind me with the quality of her play that day.

Here she wasn’t playing against Serena. But yet again she disappeared.

Mugu

While Venus melted down, Mugu looked just as she had looked for most of Wimbledon: calm, cool, confident. She looked like a player we can count on to win quite a few Slams before she’s done. She gave no quarter as Venus quit. If anything, she simply got more ruthless. She played like a champion.

Hard to believe that it was just a few weeks ago at the French that she said it was a relief to lose.

Is this going to be the tale of Mugu’s whole career? Occasional patches of best-in-the-world tennis, surrounded by months and months and months of desultory, unconfident play?

Cilic

Cilic’s tears were hard to watch. The excellence he’d showed over the course of the tournament was done in by what appeared to be a foot injury just bad enough that he couldn’t play his best. At less than your best against Federer on grass, you lose. It’s that simple.

But he stuck it out. He did not retire. It wasn’t much of a match, but I admire the fortitude. And he has the game to be a contender for some time to come. I wish him the best.

Fed

Nadal won the French without dropping a set. Federer won Wimbledon without dropping a set. And yet their wins left very different impressions. Nadal seemed utterly indomitable. Federer, on the other hand, seemed tetchy, twitchy, far from his best on far too many points, not nearly as worthy of superlatives as during his astonishing run at the Australian earlier this year.

And yet, for each point in which he misfired badly, it seemed there were two in which he was just good enough, and another in which he was amazing. For Federer, that’s not just enough to win, it’s enough to dominate.

In Which a Day of Adventure Trumps Finishing My Wimbledon Wrap-Up

This all happened today:

I played some of the best games of tennis I’ve played, and also some let’s put it this way contrasting-quality games. I saw a checker at Trader Joe’s at the last moment prevent a shopping cart with a car-seated baby inside be pulled over by his messing-around bigger brother. I had a delicious lunch at a new-to-me Abq breakfast/lunch joint that I quite liked. One of my very dearest and closest friends told me he has an impending date with a very attractive woman. In Alamosa, a dude who introduced himself as Warrior let me ride his monkey-barred single speed fat bike with–fuck yes–coaster brakes. (“Yo, man,” I called out when he first rode by. “Sick ride!”) Later, I saw a sunset that would have killed a person with a weaker constitution.

So yeah, I think you could say it was a good day.

Anniversary

Today marks four years to the day since my father died. I am in New Mexico, marking the day with my family. At this point, the day is more a celebration of love and a life well-lived than it is a day of heaviness and grief. Still, today the writing process gets to be easy. My Wimbledon wrap-up can wait until tomorrow.

Wimbledon: Thoughts Ahead of the Men’s Semis, Free Refills-Style

If you were writing a typical preview piece, you’d talk about each player remaining, describing their history and how you see them performing today, and then you’d make a prediction.

You’d talk, first of all, about Cilic and Querrey, and say things like “Cilic has the experience of winning a Grand Slam, and is less likely to be overwhelmed on this big stage, but Sam Querrey has twice shown himself to be a giant-killer at Wimbledon, and is overlooked at Cilic’s peril.” You’d point out that Cilic and Querrey have met twice before at Wimbledon, and that each time Cilic has prevailed in the fifth. (The more recent of the two, in 2012, was 17-15.) You’d probably say, as many writers have, that Cilic looked like a dark horse to compete for this title from the very get go, and that, based on the quality of his play, that assessment has only strengthened over the course of his tournament.

Then you’d talk about Federer-Berdych. You’d mention that Berdych has twice beaten Federer in Majors, including once at Wimbledon. You’d write about how Federer absolutely erased Tomas Berdych at the Australian earlier this year, 6-2 6-4 6-4, taking only 90 minutes to win three sets, but then had to stave off two match points to beat Berdych in Miami back in March, 6-2 3-6 7-6 (6). You’d talk about Federer being perhaps the best grass court player ever, but you’d also talk about how Berdych’s game seems quite suited for grass, and how sometimes Federer’s concentration can slip, and how that’s a risk given that all three of his main rivals are out of the tournament. You’d suggest, correctly, that if Federer doesn’t maintain his concentration, we’ll be seeing Tomas Berdych in Sunday’s final. But then you’d conclude by saying that Federer, the greatest of all time, playing some of the best tennis of his career, is certainly the favorite.

What you probably wouldn’t say in a typical preview piece is that you are rooting hard for Federer–whom in your heart you call Roger, as though he were a friend, because of all the pleasure he’s brought you over the years–that you want to see him win with a fan’s fervent wanting, and that you are a little afraid of that wanting. You are afraid of how it will feel if it doesn’t turn out that way. You’ve been here before, after all. Remember how great Roger was playing back in the summer of 2015? The only problem was that Djokovic was playing better, and took both the Wimbledon and US Open titles from him, and both times your heart broke a little. When Roger was down a break in the fifth at the Australian this year, you tried to gird yourself against that impending sadness, and when Roger broke Rafa and then broke him again, you exulted, you felt joy, but you were relieved as well.

You would try to maintain a little journalistic integrity, but deep in your heart you know what you want, and you’re afraid that with that wanting you might jinx it. That’s an irrational fear, of course, except that you know that you are looking ahead. In your fervent wish that it be Roger who hoists the trophy on Sunday, you are looking ahead, and you worry that you are in some way screwing things up for him. “Only play the next point,” you tell yourself, as though you are on the court. “Stay centered. Don’t look ahead.”

But look. Cilic, Querrey and Berdych are all fine tennis players. They are all capable of doing amazing things on the court. But it is Roger who makes your heart go pitter-pat, Roger who does things that look simultaneously effortless and like magic. It is Roger who represents to you, perhaps more than any other athlete you’ve ever seen, the beauty of the capacities of the human body as witnessed through sports. For all that he’s given you, you feel, he deserves this. He deserves this as a bit more magic in a magical career. And you feel bad for saying that, because you know that just because you like that story, his opponents aren’t exactly going to get out of the way for him. And you worry about saying that, because you worry that in putting that energy out into the world, you risk distracting him.

But you can’t help it. The heart wants what it wants.

Wimbledon: Quick Thoughts After the Women’s Semis

Right from the start, Muguruza seemed calm, confident and positive. Rybarikova seemed negative, like if she didn’t hit perfect shots right away, she’d assess that she never would. And she basically never did.

Venus-Konta was one of those matches in which my assessment of why one player beat the other is just that one player was a little bit better. I know that sounds tautologically ridiculous, but sometimes that’s the best descriptor of what happened. Venus and Jo Konta have a similar game, built on strong first serves and powerful groundstrokes. Both are vulnerable on their second serves. So what happened? Venus served a little better and returned a little better, especially against the second serve, and that put Konta under continually growing pressure. Eventually Konta started cracking.

Venus Williams’ 1000-megawatt smile is one of my favorite things in sports.

At this point in their careers, Muguruza, at her best, is like Jo Konta but a notch better. Venus Williams isn’t afraid of anybody except perhaps Serena. If both come out playing their best, expect a really entertaining final.

Wimbledon: Quick Thoughts Ahead of the Women’s Semis

Of all the matches in the quarters, I thought Venus-Ostapenko seemed the most must-watch. Ostapenko has been on quite a roll (obviously), and I figured she could threaten Venus. But during the match, I was struck by just how straightforward and businesslike Venus was. No real displays of emotion, just going about her business and handling Ostapenko without too much trouble.

Later, in thinking about the match, I realized just how ridiculous my initial assessment was. Just exactly how many times has Venus played against Serena, the human manifestation of “hitting the felt off the ball?” Ostapenko hits the ball huge, but she lacks Serena’s mental toughness and has a below-average serve. Throw in that we’re on Venus’s favorite surface, and it seems highly unlikely that Ostapenko would do much to intimidate or threaten Venus.

I know Jo Konta has been on the radar for a couple of years now, but her rise still strikes me as totally meteoric.

Muguruza. Her match against Kerber was the best match she’s played since she won the French a year ago. Against Kuznetsova, she looked confident and comfortable. Where the hell has this woman been for the past year, and how did she show up again now?

Rybarikova. I still don’t know what to say about her. You obviously don’t make the semis by accident, but I was struck more by the tentativeness of Vandeweghe’s play in their match than anything that Rybarikova particularly did.

Wimbledon: Quick Thoughts on the Men’s Quarters

Murray-Querrey: Chris Fowler kept expressing surprise that Murray wasn’t serving more powerfully, but didn’t seem to want to reach the obvious conclusion that Murray’s hip was really bothering him. Big Sam played a solid match, but does Andy Murray really lose the final two sets one and one if he’s one-hundred percent?

Djokovic-Berdych: Twitter was very angry with Wimbledon today, blaming Djokovic’s retirement today on the fact that he had to play his round-of-16 match yesterday instead of Monday. I kinda doubt it. Sure, an extra night of recovery would help. Recovery always helps. But if his arm was so bad he had to retire two games into the second set, do we really think another twelve or fourteen hours of recovery was going to get him to one-hundred percent, or even close? I think not.

Cilic-Muller: I thought there was no way the Muller was going to have anything left in the tank to challenge Cilic with. Boy was I surprised. Only in the fifth set did it finally look like his legs were starting to fail him. An incredible tournament for him. I hope he finds similar success during the North American hard-court season.

Federer-Raonic: Hey, remember last year when Raonic beat Federer in five to book himself a spot in the final? Today’s match looked absolutely nothing like that. Federer took Raonic apart for the first two sets before struggling a bit in the third, but overall, he handled Raonic’s huge serve comfortably, and was far too good in all other aspects of the game.