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Roger Federer
(The Associated Press)
How much does longevity count in determining just how great a player is? Is Emmitt Smith a greater NFL running back than Gale Sayers because Smith didn't blow out a knee?
This question is an important one for tennis fans because we've all become fixated on the idea that the number of major singles titles a player owns is the be-all and end-all of greatness. Right now Roger Federer holds the record with 17, but his nearly-five-years-younger rival Rafael Nadal is coming on strong, with 14. Starting next week at the U.S. Open, the 33-year-old Federer will get a chance to add to his record, while the 28-year-old Nadal is on the shelf with a wrist injury.
Tennis correspondent Simon Briggs of London's Daily Telegraph puts the longevity question thusly: "we can probably agree that Nadal at his best would beat a fit and firing Federer on the majority of surfaces. Even on grass, judging by the epoch-defining Wimbledon final of 2008. But could Nadal ever be as great, for as long, as Federer has been? Not a chance."
Despite their lopsided head-to-head record in favor of Nadal, I don't think we all agree as much as Briggs thinks about top-notch Nadal beating top-notch Federer on the majority of surfaces. This is where their age difference really comes into play. Would you take 2010 Nadal over 2006 Federer on Wimbledon's grass, the U.S. Open's asphalt or even the Australian Open's slow-ish hard courts? Are you sure?
This might be why Briggs tacks very quickly to a less incendiary but related question. "Which is more important: the highest point of your most daring climb, or the length of time you spend in the mountains?"
If you vote for the former, then you must have Maurice McLoughlin, Ellsworth Vines, Ilie Nastase and John McEnroe in the running for greatest ever. If you vote for the latter, then you're surely a fan of Pancho Gonzales, Ken Rosewall, Jimmy Connors and Pete Sampras.
Of course, the true greatest ever surely would make it into both categories, right? That leaves us with Bill Tilden, Don Budge, Gonzales, Rosewall, Rod Laver, Bjorn Borg, Sampras, Federer and Nadal.
Rafael Nadal
Did you see what I did there? I put Federer and Nadal on both lists. Federer's record from 2004 through 2007, when he held the number-one ranking without interruption, is unprecedented in tennis history. He put up 90-win seasons like it was the easiest thing in the world. He threw down love sets in major finals time and again. He won three of the four majors three times in four years. No one is even close to that four-year record of excellence. And of course it would continue beyond that stretch of near-total dominance, with his streak of consecutive Grand Slam semifinals reaching 23 before finally ending in 2010. Nadal's career over the long term, meanwhile, is just as impressive as Federer's in many respects. True, it took him a long time to reach the final at the U.S. and Aussie championships. And, yes, he has missed a handful of majors, unlike the steadier Federer. But he's still managed to win a Slam in 10 straight years -- including beating Federer at three of the four major tournaments. You can chalk up that ongoing streak primarily to his dominance on clay, but so what? It's still an unbelievable record of consistent excellence.
Before we continue, let's return briefly to my two lists above. You may be pondering the quirks on them, so a few notes: The now-forgotten McLoughlin, the U.S. Nationals champion in 1912-13, helped revolutionize the game, leading it from a pitty-pat society diversion to a hard-charging sport for supreme athletes from all walks of life. But he didn't stay at the top of the game for long, thanks to World War I and his need to earn a living. 1930s champion Vines, by all contemporary accounts, was simply unbeatable when he was fit and focused. Problem was, he frequently lost interest in the sport, preferring the more leisurely golf. Rosewall is known for his 20-plus years as a top player, but he also had a dominant period in the early '60s. If you include pre-Open Era pro majors in the Grand Slam count (a highly debatable thing to do), Kenny Muscles and not Federer would be the all-time record-holder. And when we think of Borg, we think of a guy who retired early -- just 25. Still, he ruled the courts for most of eight seasons, putting him right up there for longevity at the top.
OK, so both longevity and a momentous high point are ideal. But if I had to choose between the value of longevity and that of a player's highest point, I'd have to say that the highest point, however long it lasts, means more. Gale Sayers was indeed better than Emmitt Smith, even though the record books say otherwise. This determination gets to the heart of the famous tennis question: Who would you have play a match for your life? Sports Illustrated back in the '90s insisted that you'd want 1950s king Gonzales playing for you, with it being understood that we were talking about Pancho in his prime.
Which player in his prime would you have play for your life? Think hard now, as if your ability to take in breath really was at stake. Gonzales? Laver? McEnroe?
I'd go with Federer -- and pray that Nadal wasn't on the other side of the net.
-- Douglas Perry