Sebastien Grosjean: Power Isn’t Everything

by: Rob York

If you’re a tennis follower, you’ve probably heard it before: Little guys don’t have the power to reach the top of the game.

If any “little” guy were likely to disprove that notion it’d have been Sébastien Grosjean. Now 31, Grosjean stands at 5’9” and weighs in at about 160 pounds. Now 31, he’s been a dangerous presence on the tour for more than a decade, thanks to his great speed, surprisingly punchy serve and ability to hit generate explosive forehands that belied his size.

He has been a regular, if not constant presence in the game since he introduced himself to the tennis-viewing public in 1998, reaching the fourth round on the lawns of Wimbledon. There he fell to Pete Sampras, who certainly knew a thing or two about grass, and the following year he reached his first ever Masters Series final in Miami.

In the early goings of the decade the Frenchman ironically nicknamed “Big John” established himself as a big threat on all surfaces, winning his first tournament on the grass of Halle in 2000 and the semis of both the Australian Open and Roland Garros the following year.

It’s through his 2001 RG result that Grosjean first attracted international attention, while earning his place as a footnote in tennis history. Facing none other than Andre Agassi in front of a hometown crowd, the young Frenchman appeared headed for quick exit, having been outmuscled in the first set 6-1.

Since then, much speculation about this match has focused on what happened to Agassi next: With the former President Clinton arriving to take premium seating, the momentum of the match swung wildly, as Grosjean dropped just one game each in the second and third sets. Though the American dug in for the fourth, Grosjean’s momentum carried him to a 6-3 win, thus securing him the match.

The media would pepper the American legend in the post-match presser, asking him if the presence of the former head of state had any bearing on the result. Though lapses in his play seemingly coincided with Clinton’s presence on the court, Agassi (and Clinton himself) denied this, saying the change in the match’s tempo had more to do with the man on the other side of the net.

We may never know for sure, but Agassi’s side of the story does fit the description of the Frenchman’s game: Often content to use his legs to track down his opponent’s shots and force either mistakes or poor approach shots, Grosjean has long been know for his ability to suddenly switch to offense, firing aces or blasting forehands with minimal effort.

This ability remained useful throughout that season, as he won his first (and only) Masters Shield that fall in Paris. With this win, he qualified for the year-end championships in Sydney. Once there, he reached the finals before losing to world No. 1 Lleyton Hewitt.

In 2003 he picked up a longer racket and managed to fight his way to the semis of Wimbledon (a feat he duplicated the next year), a big achievement for a small player on the surface most rewarding of wingspan.

Yet, he never got over the semifinal hump at the Slams: His first opportunity at the 2001 AO against countryman Arnaud Clement – who is listed as one inch shorter than Grosjean – will probably remain his best chance. Up two sets to love against Clement, Grosjean failed to finish off his compatriot in one of the worst latter-round closes in Grand Slam history.

In every subsequent semi appearance, nerves were irrelevant. At that year’s Roland Garros, the heavy bounce of Alex Corretja’s groundstrokes wore down Grosjean. His two Wimbledon semis were notable achievements, but he was thoroughly overmatched once he got there, succumbing in ’03 to Mark Philippoussis in straight sets, and did no better the following year against Roger Federer, successor to Sampras’ grass court control.

Ultimately, what so surprised Agassi that one special summer – sudden bursts of power – has left Grosjean unable to rise higher in the rankings than No. 4, unable to win more than four career titles, and stuck two hurdles from Grand Slam glory. Agassi, who took the ball earlier and hit with more consistent pace than his contemporaries, won eight majors by making his opponents work harder than he did.

Roger Federer, with the most fully developed game in tennis history, hasn’t had to rely on one or two shots to win matches. Even Philippoussis, who only went past the semis of a major twice, had an overwhelming serve used to conserve his energy.

While Grosjean could succeed on the slow clay of Paris and the quick lawns of London, he never made it past the third round of the US Open. Though New York’s hard courts should have been the middle ground between Paris and London’s extremes, it’s easy for an undersized player to burn himself out before the game’s last major.

Still, he perseveres on tour, having won his last title on home soil in 2007 at Lyon. This year he has accepted a wild card into the BMW Tennis Championship in Sunrise, Florida, scheduled to start March 14. It will be his second appearance at the event, having reached the final in 2008.

He’ll be one of many players – some of them young, some of them veterans – looking to use the event as a springboard to better things. We’ll soon find out whether Grosjean, no longer so young, can use his experience to compensate for his size.

Soderling the Challenger

by: Rob York

Tomas Berdych and Robin Soderling are both representative players of the current generation on the ATP Tour.

First, there’s their common height and bulk: the Swede Soderling is listed at 6’4” and 192 pounds on the ATP Tour Web site, while Berdych is listed at 6’5” and 200 pounds.

Secondly, we have their game plans: The 25-year-old Soderling and the 24-year-old Berdych both serve big and hit hard off both wings, and like so many players today the centerpieces of their games are big forehands. The Czech’s is a bit flatter, and the Swede’s requires a bit more backswing, but both men are rightly considered to be among the hardest hitters around.

And by the time the two met in the finals of the BMW Tennis Championship last March, they could be considered to be in a similar phase in their careers. Soderling had broken through in 2003 by reaching his first tour final and the third round of Wimbledon, while Berdych’s big intro was in 2004, when he won his first title and beat Roger Federer at the Olympics.

Despite their early promise, however, their results were stagnant, with Berdych winning just four titles by early ’09 and Soderling only three. Their games had come to be known for one-dimensional power hitting, and both were struggling just to win matches in the early goings of ’09.

Berdych had pushed Federer to five sets at the Australian Open, and then won only one more match. Soderling took a 4-5 record into the event, and had to go through qualifying just to make the main draw of this unique event.

At the end of the week, the two players of such similarities had taken rather different roads to the final: Soderling had been required to win seven matches, beating streaky but notable threats Gilles Muller of Luxemburg and Spaniard Feliciano Lopez in straights, and barely overcoming former world No. 5 Rainer Schuettler of Germany. Top seed Berdych had dropped one set in four matches but not been severely tested, drubbing Janko Tipsarevic in the semis.

So what happened to Berdych on finals day? Did he not bring his best game with him, or was Soderling’s – after seven matches of preparation – running too smoothly? Whatever the story, the Swede walked away with an upset victory, in a surprisingly easy 6-1, 6-1 result.

And the result set the tone for the rest of the year: Berdych added one title to his résumé in Munich but had an otherwise lackluster year, getting no further than the fourth round of any Grand Slam event and going 1-9 against top 10 opponents. Two months after the BMW, Soderling pulled off the biggest upset of the year – and maybe in tennis history – when he stopped world No. 1 and four-time defending champion Rafael Nadal at Roland Garros.

He rode that momentum all the way to the finals of that major before falling to Federer. By the end of the year, he had added a tourney title, victories over Nadal (again), Novak Djokovic, and Nikolay Davydenko (three times last year and one in 2010). He finished the year at a career-best No. 8, qualifying for the World Tour Finals in London.

Even in winning last year’s BMW, Soderling could never have predicted the year that would may ahead following this turning point. And that’s the beauty of the event: Though not one of the game’s better-known tournaments, it offers top-flight competition a surge in confidence for the winner.

This year’s event, starting March 14, is set to field competitors including well-known players in search of a boost, including Russia’s Mikhail Youzhny, Spain’s Nicolas Almagro, Croatia’s Mario Ancic and the Frenchmen Richard Gasquet and Gilles Simon. Youth will also be served in players like Thomaz Bellucci of Brazil, seeking to give his young career a kick-start.

Then again, maybe it will be a player none of us have thought of, who will use this event to position himself for big results later in the season.

If so, it’d be the second year in a row.

Check the tournament out on the Web,  Facebook and Twitter.

Ken Rosewell – By Rob York

It might not have been as lucrative to be a pro tennis player in Ken Rosewall’s day, but there were other advantages.

For though it was a physically demanding sport even then, one didn’t necessarily have to be over six feet tall and ripped. While the modern men’s game has had only two major champions the single slam winners Michael Chang and Gaston Gaudio under 5′10″, Rosewall was actually under today’s average international height for males at 5′7″.

And while fitness has long been demanded of its players, Rosewall played in a day when a build like Rafael Nadal’s was unthinkable. Rosewall, actually, would acquire the nickname “Muscles” on the tennis court, but it was ironic moniker: The 145-pound Australian was given the name because muscles were something he didn’t have in abundance.

But Nadal and Rosewall do share kinship in one respect: The close relatives who taught them how to play the game instructed them to do so with their non-dominant arm. Toni Nadal’s decision to teach his nephew to play lefty has proven beneficial, as many a right-handed opponent has struggled to retrieve his high-bouncing shots to their backhands.

It’s a bit harder, though, to see how it benefited Ken Rosewall when his father, an avid player and tennis court owner, insisted that his son play right-handed. Perhaps there was no precedent for left-handed tennis greats in those days; all that is known is that, playing right-handed, Rosewall’s worst shots would be his forehand and serve.

This is virtually unheard of since Ivan Lendl used his serving speed and overpowering forehand to win eight majors. Lendl’s influence has only grown over the years, and today everyone from world No. 1 and strong GOAT candidate Roger Federer to streakier threats like Robin Soderling and Tomas Berdych overpower opponents through a variation of the serve-and-forehand approach.

But Rosewall played in an age where “overpowering” opponents was less necessary. Rosewall’s one-handed backhand was one of the best the game has ever seen, his volleys were lethal despite his stature, and his movement was legendary: David Foster Wallace once said that Pete Sampras’ court coverage was similar to Rosewall’s in that the two men could seemingly disappear and rematerialize in perfect position for the next shot.

Furthermore, though he played right-handed, he still had a lefty’s mind, so to speak: Like great southpaws John McEnroe and Rod Laver, he relied heavily on accuracy, feel, and disguise. In the era of wooden rackets, this was enough to carry a man to the top of the men’s game. When Rocket reached No. 1 just after Muscles did, one could only guess what kind of career Rosewall might have carved for himself playing with his “good” arm.

Because he carved out an awfully impressive CV with the other one.

Rosewall’s first trip to a major quarterfinal took place as an amateur at the 52 U.S. Championships. Over the next few years he won the Australian Championships in 1953 and 55, the French Championships in 53 and the U.S. Championships in 56. Along with his countryman, the explosive Lew Hoad, Rosewall captured all of the major doubles championships of 1956 except the French.

Then, at the end of 1956, Rosewall turned pro. A tennis tour was very different in those days: Rival players would sign up to play a long series of matches against one another, and a weaker rival could have his reputation devastated quickly, which would cause the whole sport to suffer loss of ticket sales.

Rosewall was not eased into the sport: He quickly signed into a deal with the reigning king of tennis, Ricardo Alonso Pancho Gonzales, to play a series.

As Gonzales had long been the world’s best player, dominating an assortment of very good pros including Tony Trabert and Frank Sedgman, tour promoter Jack Kramer at first feared that Rosewall would offer little competition and instructed Gonzales to carry the young Australian and keep the matches competitive.

This quickly proved unnecessary: Though he lost their series for 1957 by a margin of 50-26, by 1959 he was keeping pace with Gonzales, having beaten the big American in at least three of their five matches (some sources say it was actually five out of seven).

When the pros were integrated into the new World Pro tour in 1960, Gonzales reasserted his dominance but then suddenly retired (temporarily) that May. In his absence, Rosewall soon established himself as the games’ No. 1 player. By 1962, as Laver was sweeping the amateur circuit’s most prestigious titles, Rosewall was just as dominant in the pro game: He captured Wembley and Roland Garros, the two biggest events among professionals, and lost only eight matches all year.

When Laver turned pro, the two Australians quickly started a rivalry that would last through the start of the modern tour. At first Muscles got the better of the Rocket, winning 14 of 18 matches against Laver in 1963. By 1964 Laver began reversing their head-to-head meetings, but Rosewall edged him out for the No. 1 ranking.

By 1966, the two were on nearly even terms, with Rosewall winning nine tournaments overall and Laver 15, and the two splitting their head-to-head confrontations at 7-7. However, by 1967 Laver was undeniably the game’s best, sweeping the games’ five biggest events and topping Rosewall in eight of 13 confrontations.

However, one of the advantages of playing in those days was that one’s career was far from over once their career downturn began. As the Open Era dawned in 1968, the aging Muscles retained his clay court prowess, winning the French Open 15 years after taking his first French Championships title in 53.

Though the early days of the Open Era are best known for Laver’s unprecedented second complete Grand Slam in 1969, the thirty-something Rosewall accomplished some rare feats of his own, capturing his second US title in 1970, and added his third and fourth in Australia in 1971-72.

He was still in contention for major titles as his fourth decade was drawing to a close, though competing over a two-week period proved increasingly difficult. In 1974, he reached his last two major finals at Wimbledon and the US Open. Though overpowered by Jimmy Connors’ voracious returns, Muscles had proved his staying power.

In fact, playing on the pro tour until age 40 was more common in those days, but still Rosewall’s longevity was staggering: He remained one of the games’ 20 best players for an awe-inspiring 26 years, finally dropping out of the top 20 in 1977. Though he gradually played less and less, he reached his last tour final at the New South Wales Hard Court Championships in 1982, when Muscles was 47.

Exact records were kept less faithfully by the ITF and ATP in those days, but Rosewall is known to have won at least 132 tournaments since his amateur career began, including eight Grand Slam singles titles.

He was inducted into the Hall of Fame in 1980. His home nation has since honored him as a Living Treasure and in early 2008 his backhand was selected by Tennis.com as part of its Greatest Shots in Tennis History series.

With its towering players, overwhelming pace, and short careers, tennis today seems only loosely related to the game that Rosewall excelled at for so long. But it owes a debt to him for him for having been there, one of those who carried the sport’s torch during its long development into the pro circuit we’re familiar with now.

A feat that’s all the more impressive, in that he carried it with the wrong arm all those years.

History Repeats: What Sampras/Rafter Can Teach Us About Nadal/Soderling

In 1997 Patrick Rafter won his first major at the US Open, thanks to his agile movement, big-kicking serve and unparalleled net coverage. Though this put him exactly nine majors behind Pete Sampras at that point in their careers, it was easy to begin wondering how the two would match up in future encounters.

Still, the two weren’t truly rivals yet; Sampras was 5-1 against the Australian at that point and would add three more lopsided victories over Rafter to his tally that fall. Plus, with the bulk of his accomplishments and the fact that he had a commanding lead in the race for No. 1, few could seriously claim that the two were players of equal stature.

To become a rival to Sampras, Rafter would have to beat the American, and take something he wanted.

That would come in 1998, when the Australian rallied from down a set to top Sampras at the Cincinnati Masters tourney. Sampras had already won Wimbledon that year, and Rafter’s successes for 1998 were just beginning; still, Sampras hungered for the points that event would bring him. He was pursuing the year-end ranking for the sixth consecutive year – a record – and Marcelo Rios was hot on his heels.

By beating Sampras, Rafter earned the American’s ire, and the fact that the last point ended on a call that Sampras disputed only angered Sampras further. But that loss was nothing compared to what was coming in the months ahead: In the US Open Sampras sought to tie the Grand Slam record and Rafter to defend his maiden major. In their tightly contested duel, Sampras called for the trainer to treat his leg late in the third set, by the fifth, with him visibly slowing, Rafter dispatched him by breaking his serve a second time in the final set.

Rafter won his next match and with it forever shook off the “one-slam wonder” label. But just before he clinched his follow-up major, Sampras infamously responded that the difference between him and the Australian was “ten Grand Slams.”

Sampras, pointed to his leg injury as his reason for falling short in New York and the call he didn’t like in Cincinnati. Later he said that the sight of Rafter holding those US Open trophies “pisses me off.” Rafter responded by calling Sampras a “crybaby” and saying that it would be better for tennis if someone besides the American were No. 1.

For Sampras, generally nothing if not professional, and Rafter, a regular winner of sportsmanship awards, these words are stunning in retrospect. However, they underscore a simple fact: professional tennis players may share the camaraderie that comes with life on the road and on the courts, but in this most solitary of sports their every win takes something away from someone else.

Specifically, when one player beats another he takes money and recognition from him. In the long run, those losses may affect how the player will be viewed when his playing days are over.

When viewed through that perspective, the player who never backbites should perhaps be seen as the exception, not the norm.

Nadal vs. Soderling

In today’s game, Rafael Nadal and Robin Soderling cannot be considered rivals if one is comparing their achievements. Nadal has won six majors and been a finalist twice, whereas his massive Swedish opponent has reached only one final. Soderling is nearly two years older than Nadal, but the Spaniard has won nine times as many ATP tour events and about five times as much career prize money.

Even when Soderling was mocking Nadal’s on-court behavior in the 2007 Wimbledon he still wasn’t a rival to the young Spaniard because he would lose that day, and in fact had lost every encounter between them until this past summer. Then, on a late spring day in Paris, Soderling took away something Nadal wanted: Roland Garros.

Well, more specifically, he took Nadal’s spot in the quarterfinals of the RG before losing in the finals to Roger Federer, but was an upset that rocked the Spaniard. It was his first ever defeat at the RG, denying him his fifth straight title there, and set off a chain reaction that would eventually cause Nadal to lose the No. 1 ranking and struggle the rest of the year. Based on that, and their earlier confrontations, Nadal spoke rather uncharacteristically of his defeat.

Nadal had always declined to make excuses for losses, even when clearly injured, and had once referred to his greatest rival, Federer, as “the man” after a defeat in Hamburg two years prior.

But in Paris, he now had very specific reasons for his loss to Soderling. He had played “very short,” he told the press, and added that “I didn’t play my best tennis and for that reason I lose.” Soderling was on a high from his win, but the Spaniard’s words rankled him, and he said he would have been more gracious had the roles been reversed.

Months later, after Soderling built on his Paris performance to turn in a career-best year, and Nadal was struggling to regain his form, they met again at the World Tennis Finals in London. This time Soderling won in straights, as Nadal failed to hold his serve in key junctures at the end of each set.

He and the Swede shared a firmer handshake than in their previous encounters, but again, few words.

How rivalries end

Sampras and Rafter encountered one another twice in 1999: At the World Team Cup in the run-up to that year’s Roland Garros, Rafter again outclassed a struggling Sampras, this time without dropping a set. But by Cincinnati that summer, Sampras was a different player, having played possibly his best tennis ever at Wimbledon and now in the midst of a three-tournament winning streak.

When they met in the Cincy finals, the Sampras’ serve was too much for even a volleyer of Rafter’s panache to overcome. After Sampras’ victory, they shared some friendly words in the trophy ceremony.

Their next encounter came nearly a year later, when Sampras capped his career by setting the Grand Slam record, beating Rafter for his seventh Wimbledon and 13^th major overall. After the match ended, Sampras called Rafter “all class, on and off the court.”

It was a happy ending for Sampras fans, and for all who wanted to see two of the game’s greats show some mutual appreciation. But is it possible that Sampras had only warmed to Rafter because his goal had been achieved, and Rafter no longer stood in the way?

For Rafael Nadal, the latter half of 2009 brought many disappointments, as tennis’ most physical of players struggled to impose his will on opponents and was all too often having play dictated to him. He won no titles after May and his defeat to Soderling was just one of many in which he was overpowered.

But during the Davis Cup final in Spain in November, the clay seemingly invigorated the current world No. 2, as he battled through a difficult first set with Tomas Berdych, then crushed the Czech in the last two sets. When he showed up for the exhibition in Abu Dhabi, he was a different player.

It was in a way fitting that he’d face Soderling in the final of his first event. The Swede had achieved new milestones during the week, namely beating Roger Federer in the semis for his first win over the Great Swiss in 13 encounters, and was as good a barometer as any for Nadal’s play.

Nadal passed the test, beating the Swede 7-6, 7-5. While in the past the arc of Nadal’s groundstrokes has actually helped Soderling, as they sit up for the big swings the tall Swede takes. This time, however, the tiebreak and Soderling’s final service game indicated that Nadal is now figuring out how to defend against those booming groundstrokes and dictate play more with his own.

Players who have done this successfully, namely Federer and Novak Djokovic, have owned very good records against Soderling.

In post-match interviews, the two shared their warmest appraisals yet heard for another. Soderling said that Nadal had won because he was playing “really well.” Nadal said Soderling’s results in the past year were no fluke, and that he had “unbelievable potential.”

Perhaps he does. But would he prefer to hear flattering words from the man who just beat him, or words tinged with bitterness from an opponent he has just beaten?

This year we may find out whether those concepts are mutually exclusive.

Novak Djokovic

By Rob York

How will Novak Djokovic look back on 2009?

As things stand now, it would seem a letdown from the prior year, when he captured his first major title at the 2008 Australian Open, then threw in a couple of Master’s Shields and the year-ending Master’s Cup for good measure.

In contrast with last year – and even with 2007, when he was clearly on the rise – Djokovic’s 2009 campaign bore the marks of a highly gifted young man unsure of where he belonged in the world of tennis. The Serbian, who turned 22 in May, has endured varying degrees of disappointment at this year’s majors.

His title defense in Melbourne was derailed when he withdrew due to heat exhaustion. A heartbreaking loss to Rafael Nadal in Madrid contributed to a flat third-round exit from Paris. While regaining his form at Wimbledon he was surprised by the resurgence of Tommy Haas, and even when his play (and fun-loving demeanor) had returned, it wasn’t quite enough against Roger Federer in New York.

What’s more, the solid play of fellow 22-year-old Andy Murray and the stunning rise of now 21-year-old Juan Martin del Potro made it clear that the Serb was no longer the youngest of the young guns in tennis.

But as Djokovic’s winning ways began being spoken of in past tense, the fall indoor season shows that he has not stopped believing in his own talent. While he is not the cerebral tactician that Murray is, and while he may no single shot as brutally effective as del Potro’s forehand, Djokovic is still arguably a better athlete than either. And this year he’s doing what some of us advised him last year: take advantage of the fall, when your competition has been beaten down by the rigors of the tour.

The Serbian has now won three of his last four events: Beating up-and-comer Marin Cilic in Beijing, stunning hometown favorite Roger Federer in Basel, and now winning his first Master’s Shield of the year in Paris. But for one torrid third-set tiebreak against Nikolay Davydenko in Shanghai, Nole might have made it four-for-four.

To have upset the world No. 1 in Basel’s final was impressive, but Paris may prove his loudest statement yet. After improving to 5-0 against Robin Soderling in the quarters, he handed world No. 2 Rafael Nadal a one-sided 6-2, 6-3 beating in the semis. The Spaniard still seems to be laboring in search of his best play, and the speed of Paris’ indoor courts definitely favors Djokovic’s game.

That said, there was more than a favorable surface separating the two this weekend: at one stretch, the Serbian won seven games in a row against Nadal.

In the finals, he faced a native son for the second straight week, this time world No. 16 Gael Monfils, for whom “Mercurial” would be a fitting middle name.

But Djokovic, to borrow parlance from American team sports, remains perfect on the road, having proven more consistent than Monfils in the third set finale. After falling short in four Master’s Series finals this year, Djokovic’s satisfaction with this win was palpable.

Having produced a scintillating series of results this fall, the Serb can travel down two paths: One is David’s way, the other is Marat’s.

In 2004 Marat Safin won both the Madrid and Paris Master’s shields, a feat duplicated by David Nalbandian in 2007. Both men had known sporadic results in the year leading up to those victories, which had the unintended benefit of leaving them fit when their competitors were breaking down at the end, and both had games that translated well to the indoor courts.

Safin is rarely spoken of as a good example in terms of capitalizing on one’s opportunities, but at the Australian Open in 2005 he took that momentum and put it to use, winning his second major title.

In Nalbandian’s case, the 2008 AO was a disaster, as he folded early and meekly in the third round.

Djokovic will probably conform to neither pattern exactly; he’s a very different player than both the Russian and Argentine, and has a very different temperament. If he’s looking for examples, though, Safin’s would certainly be the better route. 2009 may not have been the best year of the young Serbian’s career, but if he wins a major in 2010 – and anything short of that will be a disappointment – this year will be remembered as the time young Djokovic retooled and renewed his play.

For Djokovic, the 2010 season has already begun.

How Agassi Should Have Responded

By Rob York

What Martina Navratilova said:

“Shocking. Not as much shock that he did it as shock he lied about it and didn’t own up to it. He’s up there with Roger Clemens, as far as I’m concerned. He owned up to it, but it doesn’t help now.”

“Andre lied and got away with it. You can’t correct that now. Do you take away a title he wouldn’t have won if he had been suspended? He beat some people when he should have been suspended.”

How Agassi should respond: Apparently when you when enough majors you feel you have the right to pass judgment on anyone who has won less. Sadly, Martina, your memory isn’t as good as your Grand Slam record: I didn’t win any titles while I was using meth, and only won a total of 12 matches in 13 tour events.

But I have to credit you for your analogies: The Clemens comparison is really, really original and not knee-jerk at all. Really. It’s appropriate, too, as long as you forget the fact that Clemens is said to have taken a drug that actually helps performance, as opposed to one that ravages people physically. And the fact that Clemens never admitted to using it. And the fact that Clemens hasn’t done a fraction of the things off-court that I have to help his sport.

Other than those things, though, it’s right on.

What Rafael Nadal said:

“To me it seems terrible. Why is he saying this now that he has retired? It’s a way of damaging the sport that makes no sense. I believe our sport is clean and I am the first one that wants that. Cheaters must be punished and if Agassi was a cheater during his career he should have been punished.”

How Agassi should respond: Yeah, I probably should have been punished, but that’s on the ATP and not me. In the long run, what I’ve said here will help the sport because I’ve revealed the laxity and the double-standard that once existed in the game’s policing of substance abuse.

I understand that in your position, Rafa; you want the game you love to be a clean one. Your reaction, though, is similar to a press secretary for an embattled politician who’s blaming the media for reporting where his boss does his fund-raising.

What Roger Federer said:

“It was a shock when I heard the news.” Federer said at a sponsors meeting at Kilchberg near Zurich. “I am disappointed and I hope there are no more such cases in future. … Our sport must stay clean.”

How Agassi should respond: Though similar to Rafa’s statement at first glance, there’s not much that’s judgmental or puritanical here. Frankly, there’s nothing for me to disagree with; as a former meth user, I feel as strongly as anyone that there shouldn’t be any cases in which players use it, much less get away with it.

What Andy Roddick said:

“Andre is and always will be my idol. I will judge him on how he has treated me and how he has changed the world for better. To be fair, when Andre wrote the reported letter, he was well outside the top 100 and widely viewed as on the way out.”

How Agassi should respond: Even if he isn’t the most cerebral guy on tour, he’s definitely one of the wisest.

What Andy Murray said:

“I loved Andre, met him numerous times, and he was unbelievably nice to me. I practised with him a lot. I guess it’s something he has to deal with himself. He’s entitled to say whatever he wants, and I wish him the best.”

How Agassi should respond: Andy, you’re not just really thoughtful on the court.

What Boris Becker said:

“He is only doing harm to tennis. I am asking myself ‘why is he making this confession?’

“You could forget about it if he had had too many beers or smoked a joint. But we are talking about one of the worst drugs: crystal meth is a synthetic stimulant and one of the most dangerous drugs.

“I feel disappointed as an athlete. He has won many Grand Slams, some of them against me. If he won those because he was on speed it’s simply unfair,”

How Agassi should respond: Actually, Boris, all the news reports were pretty clear that I only took meth for a year, and when you look at that year it obviously didn’t help my success. And while you’re not clear why I’m making this confession now, it pretty clear you haven’t given it much thought. I’d encourage you to do so, but wouldn’t want to give you a migraine.

Where does a guy who father’s a child out of wedlock in broom closet stairwell gets the ‘nads to condemn another guy’s personal life, anyway?

What John Inverdale said:

“You say it wasn’t easy being so “candid” and “brutally honest.” It will hopefully be extremely easy for all of us to leave your book where it belongs. Lying unwanted on the shelf.”

How Agassi should respond:

John Inver-who?