Five things India needs to do to win the World Cup

These are not all-encompassing, nor are they, especially, novel ideas, but they constitute fundamental elements, which India must fulfil to have a chance of winning its second World Cup.

1. Pick the bowlers that suit the conditions

Pitches in the subcontinent, contrary to general perception, are not all slow, dry and low. Different grounds across the stretch of the region tend to produce surfaces that are varied in subtle yet vital ways and therefore, part of M.S. Dhoni’s job will be to rotate his bowlers to suit the playing conditions. Where possible though – except on pitches that have a clear propensity to aid the quicker bowlers – Dhoni must try and incorporate two frontline spinners in his line-up, for spin is clearly India’s biggest weapon. With Harbhajan Singh’s position in the Eleven considered unassailable, Piyush Chawla and Ravichandran Ashwin will vie for the second spinner’s spot. Chawla’s exemplary form in India’s two warm-up games coupled with the fact that Ashwin like Harbhajan is an off spinner, could see the leggie make the cut. If Chawla is preferred, a case may also be made for Suresh Raina to be included in place of Yuvraj Singh, considering that India will have a full-time spinner who can turn the ball away from the right-handed batsmen. Some believe, rightly in my opinion, that Raina should play ahead of Yuvraj, in any event, based on his superior batting record in the subcontinent in recent times and his excellent fielding skills. But that said, Dhoni seems to view Yuvraj’s bowling as a key cog in the present set-up and he is unlikely to drop him unless his performances are monumentally poor.

Additionally, the opponent’s team composition must also be considered before choosing between Chawla and Ashwin. Against teams littered with left-handed batsmen, Ashwin should be the preferred option. And if Ashwin is picked, Yuvraj, perhaps, irrespective of his batting form should be fielded to lend variety to the bowling attack.

2. Use Yusuf Pathan as a Floater

It is crucial that Yusuf Pathan’s destructive ability as a batsman is used to its maximum potential. Pathan looks to be at his most dangerous when batting at number seven, but India mustn’t fall into the trap of pigeonholing batsmen into set positions. He should be used as a floater in the order and must be accorded enough time to inflict the most severe damage upon the opponent. Pathan, perhaps, doesn’t need the aid of a power-play to do his thing, but it wouldn’t hurt to ensure that the batting power-play is used, if possible, when he is in the middle.

3. Use the Third Power-Play with Purpose

The third power-play – a stretch of five consecutive overs to be selected by the batting team when not more than three fielders can be placed outside the 30 yard circle – has rarely been used with ingenuity. Very often we see teams waiting until at least the 40^th over, and in some cases even until the 45^th over, before calling for the power-play. This may be sensible in some cases, but when a team is seven or eight wickets down, the batsmen at the crease are ill-equipped to make the most of the situation. If India can use the option creatively, even between the 15^th and 20^th over where the situation so demands, it can add exponentially to its batting totals.

4. Endeavour to pick wickets in the middle overs

India got many of its strategies wrong in the disastrous 2007 World Cup where it crashed out in the group stages, of which the bowling tactics in the middle overs, particularly, bordered on the ludicrous. The spinners were sought to be used as mere containing acts and the middle overs were seen as a time to check the flow of runs, with the team rarely looking at wicket-taking options. What ensued, though, were neither wickets nor an improved economy rate. (Here is a table which shows that the economy rate in the middle overs during the 2007 World Cup was directly proportional to the number of wickets picked) The spinners, therefore, need to be utilised as attacking weapons and as we saw in the practice games, nothing works like wickets in containing the run flow.

5. Place the right fielders in the right positions

In a recent address at Calcutta, Sir Vivian Richards and Steve Waugh both opined that the best fielding side will win the World Cup. For India’s sake, one hopes that their prophecies don’t come true. Virat Kohli and Suresh Raina – who may not feature in the Eleven – are the only world class fielders in the Indian squad and it is quite improbable that the team would be among the better fielding sides in the competition. That being the case, Dhoni needs to ensure, perhaps more than most other captains, that he gets the right fielders in the right positions. The likes of Munaf Patel, Ashish Nehra, Zaheer Khan, Yusuf Pathan and even Sachin Tendulkar, are poor ground-fielders, which means that Dhoni will have a great deal of hiding to attempt. But unless an effort is made towards that end, India can wave its chances of lifting the Cup, a big goodbye!

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Mark Waugh's 110: The best I've seen at Chepauk

“When you are eight you watch cricket with a keener eye for detail than you shall ever summon again. Brief passages of play swell big and perfect in your head, almost as if you imagined them, maybe.”

This is Christian Ryan in reference to a David Gower half-century at Perth, which he reckons is the best he’s ever seen. I was ten when I watched the 1996 World Cup Quarter-Finals between New Zealand and Australia at Chepauk in Madras – the only World Cup game I’ve seen from the confines of a stadium – and my memories from it are abiding and particularly vivid. I watched the game, much like Ryan observed Gower, with almost pain-inducing intensity, with small pieces of action coming to represent weighty memories.

New Zealand’s Chris Harris, then a balding, dogged middle order batsman and bowler of dibbly-dobbly trash smashed Australia for 130 runs off just 124 balls, a once-in-a-lifetime innings that featured four big-ones. The last of his sixes – a slog over midwicket off Michael Bevan – I seem to remember, hit the roof of the stadium, a thought that I sought to reinforce when watching the highlights of the game for the first time, last week, only to realise that the cameras lost track of the ball midway through its trajectory. Perhaps, the distance of the strike is nothing more than a figment of my imagination, but it does make for a good tale, doesn’t it? Anyway Harris’s 168 run partnership with captain and wicketkeeper, Lee Germon helped New Zealand post 286, a total of considerable weight. Germon, a batsman of ungainly technique was nonetheless in inspired form, making 89 runs off just 96 balls, which like Harris’s 130, is his highest in one-day cricket.

The Madras crowd is known to be one of the most sporting in the country. On that day this facet was in full evidence. The crowd cheered boundaries and wickets by either team with equal gusto. As for me, I joined in the revelry, not quite sure even at the halfway juncture, which team I was supporting. I was, though, a big fan of the Waugh brothers – particularly of Steve – and I was hoping the pair would make enough runs to fulfil my ‘simple’ demands. And happily for me, make runs they did, in Mark’s case a sublime century and in Steve’s a tenacious half-century.

I have been lucky to watch several excellent knocks at Madras, including a few Sachin Tendulkar hundreds, Saeed Anwar’s 194, half centuries from Brian Lara and Mohammad Azharuddin in an ODI in late 1994 (innings’ which I wish I could remember more of) and an 83 from Neil Fairbrother, who is a favourite of mine, in a test-match in February 1993 of which my only enduring memory is Anil Kumble’s first-innings dismissal of Robin Smith. As it happens, this was Fairbrother’s only test-match half century – such a terrible pity that I remember diddly-squat about the knock. But I digress. The point is Mark Waugh’s 110 remains the most memorable innings I’ve seen at Chepauk, a magnificent treat to the eyes.

Australia’s target was imposing – only once had a higher total been successfully chased in World Cup history – but Waugh made light work of it, batting fiercely yet with an air of casual elegance. He square drove anything that was even a fraction wide of off-stump, and whipped through the on-side with typical grace when the bowlers straightened their lines. Off-spinners Shane Thompson and Dipak Patel were countered with consummate ease. Once he settled into a rhythm, Waugh didn’t hesitate to play the lofted strokes, clearing Patel for two huge sixes, one over wide long-on and another straight as an arrow over the sight-screen, landing a few seats wide of where I was seated. The one-day game may now be replete with centuries in successful chases, but considering the occasion and a pitch that was slowing by the over, Waugh’s innings must rank as one of the finest in its history.

The game was also notable for Shane Warne’s pinch-hitting pyrotechnics. Promoted to number four, Warne hammered 24 off just 14 balls, including two slog-swept sixes, before being trapped LBW by Nathan Astle. That, though, brought Mark Waugh’s elder twin, Steve into the middle, who nicknamed ‘Iceman’ for his ability to hold his nerve when bowling at the death, showed similar imperturbability in his batting and took Australia home with 13 balls to spare. In their 87 run partnership, Mark and Steve Waugh showcased an understanding that was coalesced in the backyard of their Panania residence, by nicking ones and twos with cheeky disdain. After Mark fell to a tired stroke off Dion Nash, the elder Waugh in partnership with Stuart Law ensured a mishap-free completion of the chase. But the day belonged to Mark Waugh. Easy and elegant, his batting was a joyous spectacle – a truly, great World Cup innings.

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The joys of watching Damien Martyn bat

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There have been innings’ of superior significance and greater totals, but Damien Martyn’s unbeaten 88 in the finals of the 2003 World Cup must rank amongst the most elegant knocks played in the history of the Cup. Martyn at his best batted like an angel. At the crease he was always serenely disposed, making batting look like child’s play. A dreamy back-lift was often followed by smooth strokes executed with what seemed like wanton carelessness. But the truth couldn’t have been more starkly different – his hands were always tender, helping him find gaps in the field which we thought never existed. Like most great batsmen, Martyn was endowed with a sense of timing. Mere prods off his bat would send the ball scurrying to the boundary. But he wasn’t averse to using a flashing blade, especially to send the ball over point, a shot which as brutal as it may have been, was a pleasure to behold.

His innings in the 2003 final is often overlooked in favour of Ricky Ponting’s bludgeoned 140, perhaps rightly so. But frequently forgotten is that Martyn was the one who got to his half century first – in spite of a six over handicap – the one who provided the impetus to a partnership that set the tone for a victory of resounding brilliance.

The nine editions of the World Cup have provided many excellent batting performances. The nature of the shortened format, though, has usually meant that an innings constructed with graceful ingenuity is reduced in its prettiness by grotesque hitting that is seen as a necessity in the slog-overs. Martyn’s elegance, however, was never cheapened by the layout of the game – he could make a swish over extra-cover look like a stroke from Picasso’s paint-brush. That he played the 2003 Final with a broken finger was never apparent. A batsman couldn’t have looked calmer at the crease.

If one were to generalise, Australian batsmen would fall into a prosaic category, ‘the gritty and the determined’. But the country has also been blessed with some of the most artful batsmen in the history of the game – Doug Walters, Greg Chappell and Mark Waugh to name the finest of a class, in which Martyn, most definitely belongs. Peter English once wrote that ‘Martyn can make Mark Waugh’s strokes look ugly and hurried.’ The knock in the 2003 finals explicitly paraded the truism in English’s words. It was compiled with a perfect amalgam of crafty placement and sublime timing. Martyn played the spinners so late, almost after the ball had passed him, and yet not once did he look ruffled. Although punctuated by seven fours and a six, the hallmark of the innings was the manner in which he found the gaps off the spinners, rotating the strike with metronomic ease – an aspect of the game that is often ignored in highlights packages. The pick of his boundaries was a six over extra-cover off Zaheer Khan – a graceful six if ever there was one. He may have eventually only played second-fiddle to a rampant Ponting, but there was enough in his innings to leave an indelible mark in my mind. We will be lucky if the upcoming World Cup produces a performance half as elegant as Martyn’s was.

The Lost Art of Defending

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/sport/the-lost-art-of-defending]

The illustrious Italian journalist, Gianni Brera is reported to have once written that ‘the perfect football game would finish 0-0’. Going by his philosophy, yesterday’s seven Barclays Premier League fixtures in which forty one goals were scored would represent hugely imperfect contests. Goals, though, some would say, always make for a satisfying treat and it may be wise to shun the larger tactical causes and enjoy the occasions as it were. But even if we were to disregard the views of Brera, which may appear to border on the ludicrous, goals that result out of defensive lapses of amateurish magnitude and a lack of tactical acuity from the teams are of far inferior alluring value.

A significant part of football’s splendour lies in its low scores. Goals are meant to be a premium and a team’s ability to defend competently while not compromising on its attacking options is a vital element of the sport, and contributes towards much of its beauty. Spectacular as some of yesterday’s games were, they were marked by particularly pitiful defending. The Newcastle United–Arsenal fixture, for instance, embodied a typical game of two halves, only though for all the wrong reasons. Arsenal were no doubt irrepressible in the first period, spraying incisive passes that tended to beguile, but the nature of Newcastle’s defending must have had its fans cringing in anguish – the space that was allowed to each of the scorers to either stroke or head home their finishes was quite inexplicable. In the second half, it was the turn of the Arsenal fans to cringe as their team somehow contrived to let slip a four goal lead. Some would point to the red card accorded to Abou Diaby that preceded Newcastle’s goals as the basis of Arsenal’s failings, but the incident only served to mask their otherwise deplorable defensive showing.

At the Molineux, Manchester United, hitherto unbeaten and perched at the top of the league, scored inside three minutes before allowing Wolverhampton Wanderers to equalise and take the lead inside the first half by committing acts of footballing hara-kiri. Rafael’s decision to turn his back on Matt Jarvis and allow the Wolves winger to take a quick corner led to a free header for George Elokobi for the equaliser before Nenad Miljas’s floated free-kick was bundled in by a gratefully unmarked Kevin Doyle to give the home side an advantage that eventually proved insurmountable.

A glimpse at the highlights of the other games played yesterday and a reading of the match reports clearly indicate that wretched defensive performances pervaded across the league. Maybe this was nothing more than a flash in the pan, with a rare concoction of attacking brilliance and shoddy defending providing a day of nutty entertainment. But defensive frailties have been at the root of the problems of almost all teams near the top of the League. Nemanja Vidic has, perhaps, been the outstanding defender in England this season, but as a team United have looked dreadfully vulnerable from set-plays. Manchester City have been steadier than most at the back, but a centre-back pairing of Vincent Kompany and Kolo Toure does not always inspire the greatest confidence. Arsenal’s failings are far too well documented to hark back upon, while Chelsea have the found the need to splash twenty-five million pounds on David Luiz, a young centre-back of supposedly rich talent. Are these problems, though, a mere reflection of the quality of players or are they a product of greater tactical causes?

Zonal marking from set-plays – where defenders mark specific zones of the penalty box as opposed to an assigned opponent – has often been derided as a tactic incapable of providing success. Every time Liverpool conceded a goal from a set-piece during Rafael Benitez’s tenure, it was attributed to ‘inherent flaws’ of the zonal marking system that was in operation. Yet, when teams using a customary man-to-man marking method concede goals from set-pieces, rarely is it considered a result of the system, with only its poor implementation deemed as the cause – best exemplified by Liverpool’s own movement away from the arrangement.

For all the hostility against the method, in theory, zonal marking seems a sensible tactic. By stationing its best defenders in the most dangerous zones inside the penalty box, a team is quite likely to alleviate the pressures of defending its goal. One of the primary concerns against the system relates to a defender’s ability to deal with attackers who have a run on them. But as Howard Wilkinson says: “Attackers get a run on you whether you are zone defending or man-for-man marking. They always call the shots. You start from a standing position but once the ball is in flight, you’ve got the distance the ball travels to get yourself moving.” Of greater practical significance, though, is Alan Hansen’s statement that the use of the system by the hugely successful Liverpool teams of the 70s and 80s of which he was a part, never weakened their ability to win Championships in England or in Europe.

An interesting parallel may lie in the larger movement towards zonal marking as a holistic defensive strategy. For many years, teams had defended by assigning a specific defender to deal with each of the attackers with the very notion of marking in zones considered antithetical to football strategies. Luis Vincio at Napoli in the mid 1970s and Nils Liedholm at Roma in the early to mid 1980s had tested a system involving zonal marking with variable success, but it found its perfect synthesis only under Arrigo Sacchi at AC Milan in the late 1980s. Sacchi’s system entailed pressing in zones and concentrating on marking space as opposed to marking in relation to the position of individual players. The success of his Milan side is often considered the last great tactical revolution, with almost all modern-day teams applying a version of the system. Yet, when it comes to defending set-pieces, a general opposition to zonal marking continues to persist. In almost all of the six seasons under Benitez, Liverpool were amongst the teams that conceded the fewest goals from set-pieces – a statistic that should be a celebration of the tactic as opposed to the misplaced indictments that are often served out.

On the face of it, a tally of forty one goals in seven league games is suggestive of a league that is brimming with attacking excellence. Behind the facade, though, lie the blighted defences that constitute the more telling cause behind the goal-glut. Any argument in favour of the Premier League’s quality must be softened by its defensive artlessness, which runs counter to one of the fundamental elements that makes football beautiful.

Of Murray's Tribulations and Djokovic's Joy

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/sport/of-murrays-tribulations-and-djokovics-joy]

Every time Andy Murray enters a Grand Slam tournament, the expectations are immense. These, of course, are only partly his fault. Murray has never been keen to be seen as an icon of his country, yet ‘Britain’s Number One’, they croon, an irrelevant statistic uttered with an air of superiority that couldn’t have been more misplaced – as if a Briton has an inherent right to hold a Grand Slam title. The country hasn’t had a men’s singles Grand Slam champion since Fred Perry won the U.S. Open in 1936, making the utterance especially inappropriate.

Yet, in Murray, more so than it did with Tim Henman, Britain has a tennis player blessed with skills that are certainly worthy of a Grand Slam victory, making the expectations that much starker. Whether this weighs heavily on Murray’s shoulders and represents the cause for his frailties in the biggest of stages, we may never know. Regardless, it can serve as little excuse for his capitulations in the three Grand Slam finals that he has competed in. The latest, a 4-6, 2-6, 3-6 trouncing at the hands of Novak Djokovic only aided in highlighting the depth of the Serbian’s talents and the infirmities that continue to haunt Murray’s game. Overcoming expectations is a vital step in achieving sporting greatness. In Murray’s case, though, it is perhaps his own lack of self-confidence rather than the burden vested upon him by 60 million people that he needs to address. He only needs to look at the women’s singles champion at the Australian Open this year – Kim Clijsters – who lost her first four Grand Slam finals before winning the U.S. Open in 2005. So, Murray’s dream is not unattainable and the good thing for him is that he has all the assets that make a Grand Slam champion.

Now, though, is not a time to harp on Murray’s failings and prospects, but to celebrate the supreme talents, scintillatingly showcased by Djokovic, over the course of the two weeks at Melbourne Park. Losing only a set through the course of the tournament – in the second round to Ivan Dodig – Djokovic most significantly cruised through the quarter-finals, semi-finals and finals, against Tomas Berdych, Roger Federer and Murray respectively, with consummate ease. The Serb, constantly behind the shadows of Federer and Rafael Nadal, in spite of his victory in Australia in 2008, has made staggering improvements to his game, which when exhibited as it has been in the last week makes for thrilling viewing.

Djokovic tends to excite in an unusual manner. He doesn’t have a booming serve with which he can serve aces at will, or ground-strokes with which he can readily kill, but he does boast a supreme ability to convert defence into attack, which by itself makes for an awe-inspiring spectacle. His innate sense of the geometry of a tennis court coupled with an astute on-court nous means that he can scamper and retrieve seemingly unreachable balls before finding angles of dazzling brilliance.

Each of his opponents in the last three rounds constituted a distinct threat. The big Czech, Tomas Berdych possesses easy power with which he often dismantles opponents in terrific fashion. Djokovic, though, on a relatively slow surface – the Australian Open is played on one of the slowest hard courts – was able to negate Berdych’s threat with a combination of excellent service-returns and neat use of all the perimeters of the court, taking the match 6-1, 7-6, 6-1.

With Rafael Nadal nursing an injury, ousted by David Ferrer in the quarter-finals, many felt that the Slam was Federer’s for the taking. Yet, the Swiss was outclassed by an imperious Djokovic, who unrelentingly attacked and exposed weaknesses in Federer’s backhand that even if always perceptible had never been so cruelly laid bare. Also apparent in the straight sets victory, was the extent of improvement that Djokovic’s serve has undergone – his ability to find accuracy on the big points was particularly noteworthy. But most astonishing was his athleticism. Very often after retrieving balls on his backhand side with his left foot sliding past the tramlines, he still managed to muster the racquet-head speed necessary to send the ball back with purpose. Even when it seemed like Federer was in the ascendancy, Djokovic was able to find the resilience to stay with the Swiss and ultimately hit strokes of resounding excellence.

In the final against Murray, right from the offing, Djokovic set out to attack – striking his ground-strokes with scintillating pace and depth – never once allowing Murray to settle into any rhythm. In the first four games, he was hitting the ball at an average of 20 kilometres faster than Murray, and at the same time finding sharper angles and greater depth. The crucial point though came on 15-30, when Djokovic serving for the first set at 5-4, played a rally that showcased the complete array of his most vital skill – an ability to convert defence into offense with ridiculous simplicity – he scurried to reach both corners of the baseline on numerous occasions before stroking a backhand past his hapless opponent with remarkable pace and alacrity. All through the match, he displayed elasticity in footwork that allowed him to defend even the most searching of Murray’s strokes, invariably culminating in an error from the Scot, an imposing winner or an irretrievable blow from the Serb.

In the second set after racing to a 5-0 lead, Djokovic, possibly showing the first hint of nerves, allowed Murray a little peep, losing two straight games before breaking again. The third set was slightly more topsy-turvy with both players exchanging breaks of serves, but ultimately Djokovic exerted his superiority. Leading 4-3, he broke Murray and went through some jittery moments on his serve before a Murray forehand crashed into the net to give him the championship.

Nine victorious sets of tennis in the final three rounds of the tournament, played against three of the top players in the circuit, means that Djokovic’s success couldn’t have been more deserved. His 2008 win at the Australian Open had already proved his Grand Slam credentials, but with Nadal and Federer dominating almost all Grand Slams since, few expected Djokovic to triumph here. And in doing so in a thoroughly convincing fashion, he has brought to light the prospect of a shattering of the duopoly at the top of men’s tennis.

Of Tennis, Backhands, Henin and Gasquet

[Also posted at: http://www.criticaltwenties.in/sport/of-tennis-backhands-henin-and-gasquet]

Tennis is a glorious sport, one in which two players maul, with ferocious vigour, at each other from the opposite sides of a small rectangular court. Add to that the mass of spectators engulfing the arena; a tennis match can easily be mistaken for a gladiatorial battle. John Winkler had noted in a 1926 New Yorker article, The Iconoclast of the Courts, that “under [Bill] Tilden’s transforming touch, tennis has become a smashing, dynamic test of speed and power where stamina and quickness of brain, courage and the closest psychological probing for the weaknesses of opponents must all be fused into the mental and physical makeup of a champion.”[1] And this was a description of a pre-professional era, in which only amateurs were allowed to compete in Wimbledon and Davis Cup championships as only they could play for the true glory of the sport. With the escalation of pressures, the modern day game is unimaginably more searching than it was – players are under the constant public glare.

Yet for all its physical and psychological challenges, and for all the power hitting and vicious ground-strokes, the sport remains one of grand beauty. Its majesty does not lie merely in the format of the competition, but also in the sheer mechanics of its stroke-play. Within the myriad maze of wonderful strokes, though, some provide more joy than others. The single-handed backhand, which for periods in the last two decades had been relegated to the archaic, is perhaps more beautiful than any other stroke in the game. And nobody in recent times has played it more splendidly than two players who were ousted from the Australian Open today – Justine Henin and Richard Gasquet.

The Belgian, Henin bowed out to Svetlana Kuznetsova who played in a halcyon state almost unbecoming of a Russian, bar the two games where she served for the match and in parts of the second-set tiebreaker. Henin’s backhand was not on showing in all its magnificence and she often mistimed it, a rarity, which would have been startling if not for the news of her struggles with an injury to the right elbow. At most times, though, it remains a thing of entrancing brilliance. The bent knees, the right arm flowing in a perfect arc, the ball met at the sweetest of spots on the racquet and the resultant, prodigious angle have made Henin’s backhand one of the finest in the history of the sport. A petite girl, by tennis standards, it is quite remarkable that she gets the kind of pace off the racquet that she does. It does, though, make for spectacular viewing. The stroke helped her to seven Grand Slam titles, before she most unexpectedly retired from the sport at the age of just twenty five, days before the French Open in 2008. A return to the circuit last year, like most other such comebacks hasn’t quite gone to plan – an injury at Wimbledon saw her miss rest of the season. It will doubtless take her a while to get back to groove, but if she does stay injury-free, I’d expect her backhand to propel her towards greater deeds.

France’s Richard Gasquet is an enigma. He boasts some very obvious gifts, none more dazzling than his single-handed backhand. But he was found wanting, yet again, against Tomas Berdych, in the third round, losing in straight sets. A former Junior No.1, Gasquet appeared on the cover of French Tennis Magazine when he was only nine, but his talents have failed to translate into success, with mental frailties often the product of his downfall. Tennis, certainly probes more than just the talent and flair of its competitors. When it comes to natural flair, though, few can better Gasquet and no shot beguiles in the manner of his backhand. Stroked with pristine technique – looped backswing, eyes over his right shoulder, his upper half uncoiling as his knees bend and a transfer of his weight onto the front foot – the backhand makes for captivating showing. It is not, though, his only strength. He has an intrinsic understanding of the dynamics of a tennis court, able to find remarkable angles from both wings and his touch at the net can be quite sublime. If only he can find the perfect amalgam of ‘mental and physical’ factors that make a champion. The game would be the better for it.

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[1] Cited in Marshall Jon Fisher’s book ‘A Terrible Splendour’, set in pre World War II times.

Where are the next Federers and Nadals?

The eras of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal are doubtless far from over. Greatness in big, chunky scoops is constantly served to us and yet I wonder – where are the upstarts? Where is the next Federer? Which teenage sensation is going to put a spanner in their works?

The current group of also-rans look hugely unfavoured to make a sustained dent on the duopoly at the top. Novak Djokovic – a former Australian Open winner – and Andy Murray are both exceptional talents, who will win a few Grand Slams between them. But will they dominate tennis in the manner of a Sampras, Federer or Nadal? I think not. David Nalbandian and Lleyton Hewitt, who fought a cliff-hanger in the first round of the ongoing Australian Open, secured in the fifth set by the Argentine, are players, who much like Nikolay Davydenko and Andy Roddick, looking to find a second wind to their career, and are unlikely to upset the apple cart.

Frenchmen Gael Monfils and Richard Gasquet were heralded as future greats during their junior years. But neither Monfils’s extraordinary athleticism nor Gasquet’s precocious talents have taken them too far. Tomas Berdych and Robin Soderling, both enjoyed a tremendous 2010, with their hard hitting approach affecting Federer, in particular. But they look more probable to disturb the best of players on occasions rather than enjoy any sustained success. Juan Martin Del Potro, who defeated both Nadal and Federer en route to the U.S. Open title in 2009 seemed the most capable of breaking into the very private club at the zenith. An injury to his wrist, though, saw him miss most of 2010, forcing him to now rebuild his career, virtually from scratch. Only twenty-two years of age, the gangling Argentine still has time on his side, but the impact of the nearly year-long absence from the circuit could have more than mere physical consequences.

There are of course a host of other players good enough to be near the top, but not quite capable of reaching exhilarating heights – David Ferrer and Fernando Verdasco, for instance. The analysis, therefore, demands a look into the Junior Championships, which albeit isn’t always the route to professional success – Pete Sampras, consciously avoided junior-level events to focus on peaking at the highest of stages. Roger Federer and Stefan Edberg, though, are notable examples of players who have come through the junior ranks. The latter, in fact, famously secured the Junior Grand Slam – winning all four Grand Slams in a calendar year – in 1983.

A gaze, therefore, into the Junior events over the last two years throws one particular name into the reckoning – Bulgaria’s nineteen-year-old Grigor Dimitrov. Dimitrov, lost yesterday in the second round of the Australian Open to 19^th seed Stanislas Wawrinka in straight sets. In evidence, though, was the teenager’s sound and consistent game with no apparent weaknesses. His single-handed backhand, however, does seem his strong suit – often hit smoothly on the rise, it looks a more complete stroke than Federer’s was at that stage. A winner of the 2008 Wimbledon and U.S. Open Junior Grand Slams, Dimitrov has risen to 108 in the world, from the wilderness of a ranking outside the top 300 in a span of just six months. Whether he can transform his obvious talents into persistent success will depend on many factors, including his ability to carry the burden of being heralded as the ‘next Federer’. Expectations, though, are a part of sport, and greatness does not ensue unless one surmounts these pressures.

Surmounting pressure was exactly what eighteen-year-old Bernard Tomic did today against the 31^st seed, Spain’s Feliciano Lopez in the second round of the Australian Open. An Australian of Croatian and Bosnian descent, Tomic boasts a game that belies his age. Standing six-foot four-and-a-half-inches tall, Tomic’s style is reminiscent of Del Potro’s – covering the court with a casual air of confidence, he musters oodles of easy power from the baseline. But his game, unlike Del Potro's isn't dependent on power. He has inherent sense of the geometry of a tennis court, and likes to feel his way into points rather than look for the booming forehand at the earliest opportunity. Today, he dismantled Lopez in three, straight sets – 7-6, 7-6, 6-3 – never once looking fluttered and constantly trying to innovate. His double-handed backhand, in particular, worked like a dream, whether hit up the line or cross court, it was often timed and placed to perfection. Having been accorded a wild card into the main draw – a controversial choice after he had withdrawn from a play-off with other Australians, on grounds of illness – Tomic had earlier polished off 44^th ranked Frenchman Jeremy Chardy, in the first round with imperious authority – 6-3, 6-2, 7-6. A meeting with Rafael Nadal on Saturday now beckons for Tomic. It would be unrealistic to expect the youngster to conquer the force of Nadal. The real test, therefore, lies in whether he can mould his palpable potential into a consistent game that it richly deserves.