Exactly a week after the world learnt of the death of Queen Elizabeth II, some dreadful news broke. In an eloquently worded letter printed on his signature RF logo, Roger Federer, the most beautiful tennis player to ever grace a tennis court, announced his retirement.
Yes, “most beautiful”, and not “greatest”, though that fact can certainly be argued. But most beautiful because even diehard Rafa Nadal fans, and Novak Djokovic ones can’t deny this. When people write about Federer, words such as “effortless”, “unhurried” and “genius” pop up regularly. In his now iconic piece for the New York Times, author David Foster Wallace even compared watching Roger Federer play to having a profound religious experience.
For me, there’s a meme that sums it up — two pictures side by side: one of a perfectly poised ballerina, the other of Federer on the tip of his right foot a split-second after striking his majestic single-handed backhand. The similarities between the two pictures are remarkable. And it tells you everything you need to know about the elegance of a player whose likeness will not be experienced again in our lifetime.
In short: no-one has ever looked this good playing tennis. If ever the expression “poetry in motion” applied to something, it was to Federer’s on-court game. Hell, even when he, on the very rare occasion, smashed a racket to smithereens, he did it beautifully, and dressed impeccably to match. Whole blog articles have been written about Federer’s best outfits over the years.
What’s a little harder to fathom is the popularity of the man off the court. Only a handful of sportspeople can claim greater fame and status (Muhammad Ali, Michael Jordan, Pelé, Usain Bolt, maybe). On the ATP Tour, there was universal respect and admiration for Federer — not just as a player, but as a person.
Apart from winning the ATP Fans’ Favourite Award 19 straight years, he also won the Stefan Edberg Sportsmanship Awards a record 13 tyears. His popularity translated into big, big business. In 2020 he was the highest paid sports star despite being 39 years old, with Forbes estimating that he’s earned about $2.1bn (about R38bn) throughout his career (largely thanks to a $300m deal with Japanese brand Uniqlo in 2018 — his actual prize money totals just over $130m).
What sponsors got was a wet dream. A handsome role model who spoke comfortably on camera and adored the limelight. Neat. Diplomatic. Clean. Like Switzerland basically. Perfect and a little boring. There, I said it. I find Federer a little boring. A bit goody two shoes. The ultimate class prefect. (When I mentioned this to my partner, she was affronted. 'So, what? You think having grace and maturity is boring? Just because he’s not having affairs and offending people, he’s boring?') she had a point. Boris Becker was never boring and look where he ended up (in jail for tax evasion, if you didn’t know).
Of course, Federer wasn’t an angel all his life. As a junior, he had serious attitude — throwing tantrums and behaving like talented teenagers the world over. He was a brat. The story goes that the turning point came when he saw a highlights reel of him and Marat Safin as young players. It showed the two of them swearing and behaving like idiots. He wanted to be noticed for his tennis, not his tantrums. Federer took a leaf from the original iceman Bjorn Borg’s book and started channelling his energy towards one thing: winning. From 2005 to 2007, Federer was untouchable. In a game of fine margins where the difference between winning and losing is often a single point or two, he opened up a gap the size of Donald Trump’s ego.
And he wasn’t just winning. He was doing it in a way that was a joy to watch. The most technically complete player in the history of the game, he had everything. Supreme movement. A devastatingly destructive forehand. A knifing slice backhand that hugged the surface and didn’t let go. Incredible hands at the net, and a serve that wasn’t the biggest on tour, but the most reliable and accurate when he needed it most. He had the knack of rare champions — to make magic when his back was against the wall (consider the match point he saved with a scorching down-the-line backhand in the legendary 2008 Wimbledon final, for instance).
Ultimately, his record-breaking reign at number one did come to an end with the rise of the two other greatest players in history — Nadal and Djokovic. In the early 2010s already there was talk of Federer’s imminent retirement. He struggled with a back injury in 2013 and famously injured his knee while running a bath for his twin daughters in 2016. Yet, unbelievably, his career refused to die. In 2017, after being out for six months, he made his most remarkable comeback to win the Australian Open as an unseeded player, beating Nadal in the final from a break down in the fifth set and going on to regain his number 1 ranking at age 36 — 14 years after first becoming world number one.
To keep up with the next generation of hungry players, his game became even more daring and expansive: taking his backhand earlier; turning back the tennis history clock by incorporating serve-and-volleying as a regular feature of his arsenal; and employing a unique tactic which became known as the SABR (Sneak Attack By Roger) where he stealthily advances and returns the opponent’s serve as a half-volley on the service line. The ultimate disrespect to an opponent or show-off of superior skill — whichever way you choose to look at it.
When you look at highlights of Federer’s most remarkable shots, it’s often shots that are not in the coaching manual or weren't at the time. Shots improvised out of necessity. Off-balance flick of the wrists. In-between-the legs passing shots. Audacious drop volleys and midcourt pickups. Shots you can’t teach, reliant on sheer talent. The gods smiling on centre court while standing up to applaud.
What was remarkable about his choice of farewell was that he shared it with his biggest rivals
Fast forward to the grand, much-shared farewell to the king last Friday at the Laver Cup. Call me stoic, but I would have preferred a more understated affair. The only thing more dragged out was the royal coffin ride to Westminster Abbey. After endless interviews, hugging and crying, the cameras finally cut away, leaving Federer still waving and high-waving fans that didn’t have the heart to stop cheering.
What was remarkable about his choice of farewell was that he shared it with his biggest rivals. He didn’t want to be alone in the moment, he said. After decades of heroic victories and bitter defeats, he wanted Nadal and Djokovic to be alongside him. A cynic could call it the ultimate form of narcissism. I choose a more optimistic take: the most supreme player in history’s final match ended in defeat, showing mere mortals that, ultimately, it’s OK to lose. As long as you do it gracefully.
• Cloete is a copywriter and four-time singles champion at the Gardens Lawn Tennis Club in Cape Town. A year older than Federer, his best tennis years might be behind him, but he won’t admit it.
