Roger Federer Has Retired From Tennis. And My Dream Just Died.
Whatever the numbers might say, Federer’s artistry is unrivaled, and he is the greatest of all time.
It’s 2 AM where I live. And I’m cognitively drained.
I’m usually not able to write this late at night. The words just don’t come out.
However, earlier today I heard Roger’s announcement from professional tennis, and contrary to usual, I can’t stop words from coming out. I can’t put off writing this for tomorrow. This must be written now.
So here I am.
Writing about a broken dream.
You see, every person has that ‘one’ sport. For me, it’s always been Lawn Tennis. And in that ‘one’ sport, every person has that ‘one’ favorite player. For me, and several others all over the world, it is Roger.
I started playing tennis when I was nine years old. And I fell in love with the sport. I remember those days. I reached school early and played tennis before school started. Then, as soon as the bell rang for the short recess — instead of eating — I ran to the court as fast as I could. Our short recesses were just 15 minutes long — but I didn’t care. I wanted to play even for as little as fifteen minutes. Then, I’d inhale my food during my lunch break, and again, run to the court to play. And none of this was enough — because I always ended up at the court again after school ended. Basically, playing tennis was all I wanted to do.
Since tennis was ‘my sport’, I grew up watching Federer. I wept with joy when he fell to his knees and cried after winning his only French Open in 2009. I watched him win the longest and the most thrilling final in the history of Wimbledon against Andy Roddick. When Federer had a second set of twins in 2014— my suspicion was confirmed — God wanted more of his DNA in the world. I beamed with joy when he finally won a Grand Slam after five years without one. And I witnessed Federer’s greatness reignite in the year 2017. I followed his journey throughout.
Federer was nothing short of God for me. And I do believe that God — if he exists — chose to be glimpsed in Roger’s play. How else do you explain the supernatural grace Roger played with? That beautiful single-handed flawless backhand — isn’t that God’s doing ?— Watch it in slow-mo and you’ll know what I’m talking about. And what about those between-the-leg-winners — you don’t really expect me to believe that a human can execute those — so often — so perfectly, right?
The way I see it, God chooses to be glimpsed through Roger’s play. And hence, it was my dream to see his play live. In London. On a grass court. At Wimbledon. Ideally, sitting beside David Beckham. In the final — that he would win.
That dream died today. And I’m mourning its death.
But at the same time, I can’t help but feel incredibly grateful to Federer. For creating moments of magic for the world to witness. For raising the elegance of the beautiful sport of Tennis. And for inspiring a generation to chase greatness, just like he did.
Thank you for everything, RF. You’re the GOAT. We love you beyond what words can convey.
XOXO,
Akshad.
