“You can’t repeat the past†– but you can come very close to it
I made a post over a year ago on the old tennis forum that compared Roger Federer to Jay Gatsby. I couldn’t find the exact thread, so I will write an updated version, given Federer’s current conundrum and the release of “The Great Gatsby†movie tomorrow.
-----
He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him...
– final page of The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
One of the less pleasant facts of life, a fact that, unlike death, often goes unnoticed, is that there is a price to pay for doing anything. Specifically: once something is done, it can never again be done in the exact same way, or at least at the same “heightened sensitivity,†which leaves the doer with less opportunity to do things as time goes on (“You can’t repeat the past†is the famous line Nick Carraway quips.). This fact probably seems obvious, and a lot of times it’s of little relevance and importance, as many of the mundane things we do are better off never to be done again anyway. It’s even fair to say, if one uses a certain thought process, that some of those actions weren’t really worth doing in the first place. There are, however, actions and accomplishments that we consider valuable, the ones that we like to believe define “greatness.†And it’s these things that history and memory are all about, really—at least in a comforting sense.
That word, “greatness,†is necessarily used when most things Federer are discussed, and it’s also the word used to describe the character to whom Fitzgerald titled his masterwork. I don’t know exactly what the word even means (or is supposed to mean), and I don’t suppose it really even matters, as it’s simply a way of linking a past event to the front of our memory. Heck, I’m even channeling that memory device to create this here post.
Last year when I wrote about Jay and Rog I used the following passage from Gatsby to draw a particular link:
He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.
The point being, that Federer, who at the time had 16 Grand Slams, was subconsciously waiting, basically holding off, to claim No. 17, knowing deep down that once he did, “his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.â€
I was wrong, in a sense, because I don’t think GS 17 was the Federer equivalent of a woman’s lips. Rather, it was the No. 1 ranking that Roger sought, steadily moving along in devotion “to the following of a grail†(ironically, the No. 1 ranking and GS 17 both arrived with Murray’s sailing forehand). I was wrong, too, that one single accomplishment would be the demise of Federer’s tennis pulse, as he played well at the Olympics and into the summer hard court season and too performed at high levels at the WTF last year and the AO to begin this season. However, that hasn’t been the case since, and now that he’s 4,000 points away from the top, has he, through no fault of his own but the normal workings of life, been resigned to, eh, not wanting it anymore?
The picture currently on the Tennis.com homepage of Federer and Nishikori at the net post-match is intriguing and I think somewhat telling, particularly their expressions. Nisikori, who has just completed “one of the goals for [his] tennis career,“ looks oddly at Federer as if to see if Roger is all right. It’s the look of obligatory concern. Roger, looking down but possibly not seeing anything other than a blur, appears like he might be assuring Kei he’s all right, smiling the way someone smiles when they’ve just done something really, really stupid but, because of the relative insignificance of the event to one’s life as a whole, doesn’t even care enough to feel embarrassed.
I think that’s pretty much an accurate take on Federer’s career in tennis; it has to be, right? Federer would never admit it—at least not yet:
"Overall, I'm pretty disappointed with my play," he told a press conference following the match. "I'm not sure how well Kei thought he played. I didn't think he had to play his very best either, which is even more disappointing. It doesn't change my mindset going forward. I'm going to go back to the practice court, train hard, and make sure I don't have these kind of days anymore."
John McEnroe has been saying for several years that he doesn’t know how Roger can get up for anything other than the Slams at this point. Peter Bodo wrote something similar, but even more damning, this afternoon in his match analysis: “Today, though, Federer started sluggish and, despite a mid-match revival, finished slow—classic symptoms of an aging player who no longer wants to win in his heart, just in his mind; thus, he has to force himself to want to want to win.“ Bodo’s comments, I suspicion, accurately assess the quandary Fed finds himself in. According to Roger’s words after the match (mind) and expression at the net (heart - I know the whole picture thing is a stretch but just go with it), that’s just it: The Death of Wanting.
I love watching Federer play almost more than anything and so I have to hope that he finds something to play for. Maybe Roger will go see the “Gatsby†movie this weekend with his wife and kids, using the plot to create an “enchanted object†of his own to which he can stare across the Sound—or court. After all, Jay did come very close to realizing his dream once again. And Federer has many times before risen up as well. Either way, I guess you have to be thankful.
I made a post over a year ago on the old tennis forum that compared Roger Federer to Jay Gatsby. I couldn’t find the exact thread, so I will write an updated version, given Federer’s current conundrum and the release of “The Great Gatsby†movie tomorrow.
-----
He had come a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it. He did not know that it was already behind him...
– final page of The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald
One of the less pleasant facts of life, a fact that, unlike death, often goes unnoticed, is that there is a price to pay for doing anything. Specifically: once something is done, it can never again be done in the exact same way, or at least at the same “heightened sensitivity,†which leaves the doer with less opportunity to do things as time goes on (“You can’t repeat the past†is the famous line Nick Carraway quips.). This fact probably seems obvious, and a lot of times it’s of little relevance and importance, as many of the mundane things we do are better off never to be done again anyway. It’s even fair to say, if one uses a certain thought process, that some of those actions weren’t really worth doing in the first place. There are, however, actions and accomplishments that we consider valuable, the ones that we like to believe define “greatness.†And it’s these things that history and memory are all about, really—at least in a comforting sense.
That word, “greatness,†is necessarily used when most things Federer are discussed, and it’s also the word used to describe the character to whom Fitzgerald titled his masterwork. I don’t know exactly what the word even means (or is supposed to mean), and I don’t suppose it really even matters, as it’s simply a way of linking a past event to the front of our memory. Heck, I’m even channeling that memory device to create this here post.
Last year when I wrote about Jay and Rog I used the following passage from Gatsby to draw a particular link:
He knew that when he kissed this girl, and forever wed his unutterable visions to her perishable breath, his mind would never romp again like the mind of God. So he waited, listening for a moment longer to the tuning-fork that had been struck upon a star. Then he kissed her. At his lips' touch she blossomed for him like a flower and the incarnation was complete.
The point being, that Federer, who at the time had 16 Grand Slams, was subconsciously waiting, basically holding off, to claim No. 17, knowing deep down that once he did, “his mind would never romp again like the mind of God.â€
I was wrong, in a sense, because I don’t think GS 17 was the Federer equivalent of a woman’s lips. Rather, it was the No. 1 ranking that Roger sought, steadily moving along in devotion “to the following of a grail†(ironically, the No. 1 ranking and GS 17 both arrived with Murray’s sailing forehand). I was wrong, too, that one single accomplishment would be the demise of Federer’s tennis pulse, as he played well at the Olympics and into the summer hard court season and too performed at high levels at the WTF last year and the AO to begin this season. However, that hasn’t been the case since, and now that he’s 4,000 points away from the top, has he, through no fault of his own but the normal workings of life, been resigned to, eh, not wanting it anymore?
The picture currently on the Tennis.com homepage of Federer and Nishikori at the net post-match is intriguing and I think somewhat telling, particularly their expressions. Nisikori, who has just completed “one of the goals for [his] tennis career,“ looks oddly at Federer as if to see if Roger is all right. It’s the look of obligatory concern. Roger, looking down but possibly not seeing anything other than a blur, appears like he might be assuring Kei he’s all right, smiling the way someone smiles when they’ve just done something really, really stupid but, because of the relative insignificance of the event to one’s life as a whole, doesn’t even care enough to feel embarrassed.
I think that’s pretty much an accurate take on Federer’s career in tennis; it has to be, right? Federer would never admit it—at least not yet:
"Overall, I'm pretty disappointed with my play," he told a press conference following the match. "I'm not sure how well Kei thought he played. I didn't think he had to play his very best either, which is even more disappointing. It doesn't change my mindset going forward. I'm going to go back to the practice court, train hard, and make sure I don't have these kind of days anymore."
John McEnroe has been saying for several years that he doesn’t know how Roger can get up for anything other than the Slams at this point. Peter Bodo wrote something similar, but even more damning, this afternoon in his match analysis: “Today, though, Federer started sluggish and, despite a mid-match revival, finished slow—classic symptoms of an aging player who no longer wants to win in his heart, just in his mind; thus, he has to force himself to want to want to win.“ Bodo’s comments, I suspicion, accurately assess the quandary Fed finds himself in. According to Roger’s words after the match (mind) and expression at the net (heart - I know the whole picture thing is a stretch but just go with it), that’s just it: The Death of Wanting.
I love watching Federer play almost more than anything and so I have to hope that he finds something to play for. Maybe Roger will go see the “Gatsby†movie this weekend with his wife and kids, using the plot to create an “enchanted object†of his own to which he can stare across the Sound—or court. After all, Jay did come very close to realizing his dream once again. And Federer has many times before risen up as well. Either way, I guess you have to be thankful.
