Davis Cup: Day 3 – Del Potro Heroics Help Argentina Win At Last

They were born within a week of each other.  They grew up on the junior circuit together.  They turned professional in the same year.  They are both 6 ft 6, both right-handed and they have both won a US Open Grand Slam.  They are tennis twins.  On Sunday afternoon, Marin Cilic and Juan Martin Del Potro met in the first reverse singles in a match that would effectively decide the outcome of the 2016 Davis Cup.

Argentina had taken a gamble and chosen to play Del Potro in Saturday’s doubles.  The gamble had not paid off, and for the first two sets in the singles it looked like it had actually backfired as Delpo appeared to be wilting under the onslaught of Cilic’s powerful groundstrokes.  Marin has rarely played better.  Inspired by his noisy home crowd, he was serving like a demon and hitting groundstrokes with power, accuracy and angles that was breathtaking.  But, sadly, Marin has an Achilles heel: an evil twin imposter (he has a lot of twins!) that takes over just when the pressure is on and a match gets into ‘squeaky bum time’ – to use a famous Fergie parlance.  All of a sudden, Marin goes from serving like a god to forgetting how to hit a first serve.  The serve goes and inexplicably silly mistakes creep into his game at just the wrong times.  In tennis, it is never about how many points you win, but about when you win them.

At first though, fortified by the noisy atmosphere, Cilic seemed to have survived his self-created crisis moments.  He gave back an early break of serve in the opening set but regained his composure enough to take the set on a tie-break.  It was Del Potro who was rattled, and Cilic ramped up the pressure to break in the second set.  Delpo’s struggles on his serve were not helped by the umpire giving him an unncessary time violation later on, which caused him to double fault and lose his serve again.  The second set was gone and Croatia were just one set away from winning the Davis Cup.

But in a five set match, being one set away from winning is like being a planet away from getting to the moon.  It can be quite straightforward to win two sets in a row in tennis; it is notoriously difficult to win three sets in a row, which is why five set matches are the ultimate test in tennis.  In the end, it was a moment of cheeky genius that turned the destiny of the match.  At 15-15 all in the third set on Del Potro’s serve, with Cilic toying with him, drawing him into the net and then lobbing him, Del Potro scrambled back to the baseline and with his back to the net, hit a tweener-lob between his legs that sailed diagonally over the Cilic’s head and landed plum in the left corner between the tram and baseline.  A shot worthy of winning the Davis Cup.

Delpo, sensing a change in momentum, soon had Cilic in trouble with two break points.  But, unusually, Marin held his nerve and the set stayed on serve until 5-6.  Croatia were within touching distance if Marin could take it to a tie-break.  The Argentinian fans, who had been making themselves hoarse with their incessant noise and unrelenting support, sensed they were on last chance saloon and cranked up the atmosphere one more notch.  It was ‘squeaky bum time’ all round.  Marin had done surprisingly well in saving numerous break points in the match, but he always appeared just a wobble away from yielding.  Delpo at times looked like he was on the wrong end of a heavyweight boxing bout, yet somehow found reserves of strength to hang in there with some outstanding defending.  In a battle of wills and sheer bloody-mindedness, there was only going to be one winner.  Marin’s slacker twin was back with a vengeance and he had lost the set 5-7.

Yet, to his credit, Marin’s head did not go down.  He stayed strong in the fourth set, and it looked like he might outlast Delpo, who was now showing visible signs of fatigue.  He was slowing down noticeably and Cilic had got him to deuce at 4-4 in the fourth set.  Delpo won the next point to get advantage.  And then, there was another one of those pivotal incidents that change the course of a match.  The umpire once again chose an inopportune moment to give Del Potro a time violation.  As it was his second, he lost his first serve.  Del Potro was furious.  Cilic was confused.  And the crowd started going bananas.  A lengthy delay ensued during which the referee was called and argued with by everybody.  Once all the steam was let off, the play resumed, but with a different Del Potro.  A raging Del Potro.  The perceived injustice of the time warning, rather than having a detrimental impact, acted only to reignite his fire, intensify his determination and harden his resolve.  There was only going to be one outcome of the second serve.  Bang.  A winner.  Once more, Marin was serving to stay in the set.  Once more, come pressure time, he was found wanting.  A fired up Del Potro was not to be denied and the match would go down to the fifth and deciding set.

The match was already a thriller with more twists, turns and red herrings than an Agatha Christie crime novel.  But there was more to come.  Against the run of play, Del Potro was broken in the very first game of the fifth set.  The break, though, merely increased Del Potro’s determination, whereas Cilic again failed to raise his level in response and hold on to his serve.  Still, he reacted well to the setback and had Del Potro at deuce in the following game, when yet another controversial incident occurred.  A Del Potro forehand appeared to have gone long and a shout made Cilic stop playing momentarily thinking it was the line judge calling it out.  But it was a shout from the crowd and Cilic was forced to play a hasty shot in reply and the point was lost.  He flung his racquet to the ground in anger and his feelings were exacerbated when Del Potro won the next point to hold.  Though Marin held his next two service games, there was an air of inevitability about the outcome.

Twice this season Marin has lost after being two sets up.  Against Federer in the quarter finals at Wimbledon, he also squandered three match points in the third set before losing in five.  He subsequently lost in the first Davis Cup quarter final rubber against Jack Sock of the USA after being two sets up.  Fortunately, he had youngster Borna Coric to save him by winning the deciding fifth rubber to take Croatia through.  But there would be no Borna Coric in the fifth rubber here to save his blushes this time.  Croatia were going to win or lose with Marin Cilic.  Marin had nearly lost from two sets up in the first rubber against Federico Delbonis before he regrouped himself.  He has always been vulnerable under pressure, and in sport, vulnerability under pressure is fatal.

Predictably, Marin’s biggest weapon, his serve, crumbled once more when it was needed most.  Delpo, tennis’s greatest comeback kid, had done it once again, coming back from two sets down and a break down in the fifth to win a quite extraordinary match 6-7, 2-6, 7-5, 6-4, 6-3.  The quality of the match and the standard of shot making was so high, and the atmosphere so intense, it deserves to go down as one of the greatest Davis Cup matches, and probably the match of the season.  It had been so, so close; ultimately, the difference between the tennis twins was that Delpo was able to raise his game under pressure, while Marin’s game capitulated.  It was not the better man who had won, but the stronger man.  The one with the stiffer sinew and the bigger heart.

Even though there was a fifth and final rubber to come, without Borna Coric Croatia had no more aces to play.  Ivo Karlovic, though ranked 20th the world to his opponent Federico Delbonis’s 41, was a servebot with practically no tennis ability.  The outcome was never in doubt.  Delbonis destroyed him, and Argentina had finally won the Davis Cup at their fifth attempt.  Delpo and Delbo were their heroes, backed up by a crazy, raucous, fervid band of supporters that deserved as much accolade as their players.  After all the heartache of years lost and career wrecked through endless injuries, numerous surgeries and several failed comebacks, no one deserved to fight his way to victory more than Delpo.  It was a triumph for persistence, perseverance and sheer blind faith.

As for yours truly, it was a bittersweet moment.  I was happy for Delpo, sad for Marin.  I wanted Marin to win as he is one rung above Delpo on my favourites’ list.  I knew he was good enough to win – he played so well he surprised even me by the quality of his tennis.  I knew he was good, but even I didn’t realise he could be this good.  But his inability to deal with pressure has always been his constant, and in sport, it is a player’s ability to handle pressure that determines who wins.  Delpo, like all natural-born winners, is at his best when things are at their worst.  Pressure brings out the best in him; it ignites his competitive spirit and strengthens his resolve.

Of course even great competitors can be beaten, but they will never beat themselves.  Those with more fragile mentalities like Marin will always have to struggle with their own demons in order to succeed.  However, true winners are not those who have no weaknesses, but those who manage to overcome their weaknesses.  As Delpo so amply demonstrated, fortune can be persuaded to smile on the comeback kid.

 

Davis Cup: Day 2 – Croatia Take Doubles As Del Potro Gamble Fails

Have sightings of Diego Maradona in the Zagreb Arena made fans at the Davis Cup think they were attending a football match between Croatia and Argentina?  Judging by the fervid and raucous old school football terrace atmosphere they were obviously hoping that Maradona might excitedly jump onto the court and start kicking a ball about!

His countrymen could certainly have done with a tennis doubles specialist of his ability for Saturday afternoon’s crucial doubles match against Croatia.  Instead, they had to take a gamble and play Juan Martin Del Potro again, a risky move given the fact he was still playing himself into this season after such a long injury layoff and numerous wrist surgeries.  Is he realistically capable of playing three best-of-five set matches three days running?

The danger of playing him in the doubles was that he might be too tired for his big showdown with Croatian number 1 Marin Cilic tomorrow.  Clearly Argentina weren’t entirely confident of winning both their reverse singles, so decided to throw Delpo in to the doubles even if they were never really likely to win.  Both Delpo and his partner Leo Mayer are singles players who prefer to stick like glue to the baseline, whereas Croatia boasted a doubles specialist in Ivan Dodig, alongside Marin Cilic, who is perfectly comfortable at the net.

Delpo’s presence in the doubles would also mean seeing my two favourite players now facing each other twice, which was not going to be fun.  But since servebot Ivo Karlovic was safely sat on the sidelines for this match, I could support Croatia freely.  The first set was extremely tight with a lot of tension in the air to go with the boisterous atmosphere.  Everyone knew that whoever won this match would get a very strong hand on the trophy (in as much as any one can get their hands on the Davis Cup trophy because it is huge!).  The Argentinians looked to have made a better start as they were winning their games more easily, but come the tie break the Croatians’ better doubles play gave them the advantage and they took the set.

The momentum was with the Croats and they broke in the very first game of the second set.  The Argentinians were starting to look like two singles players who had just met in the bar and decided to have a hit together; Delpo didn’t appear remotely comfortable out there and Mayer was struggling to hold serve.  A two set lead for the Croatians and surely it was game over.  With the score 4-3 all Marin and Ivan had to do was hold one service game each and Croatia would go two sets up.  Surely Marin wouldn’t be the one dropping serve here?  Of course he would.  This is Mr Jekyll and Hyde we are talking about.  There is inevitably one moment in a Cilic match where US Open champion Marin will go walkabout and his useless twin, hacker Marin, will mysteriously take over and suddenly Marin’s serve will go doolally.  Cue a whole game of nothing but tentative second serves, which was not helped by Dodig crossing over enthusiastically at the net several times and missing.  Parity restored.

If it’s a certainty that Marin will be inconsistent at some point during a match, it is also a truism that players who don’t manage to hold their serves when ahead and go to a tie break tend to win them.  Tie breaks give them an opportunity to regroup, and the Croatian boys quickly rediscovered their mojo, helped by some slack doubles play from Delpo and Mayer, to take the second on a tie break as well.  There was no way back for Argentina now no matter how intensely the fervent crowd chanted for their team.  Mayer was soon in trouble again in the third, and perhaps wisely Delpo was conserving his energies for Sunday’s reverse singles.  The Croatians had the break, and soon, Marin was serving for the match.  Marin has been known to wobble when having to close out, but here, amidst the din of his own exhorting fans, there was no way he was going to mess up.  A straightforward win in the end for the home favourites 7-6, 7-6, 6-3.  Advantage Croatia.

It’s not over yet for Argentina.  Not with Delpo in their corner.  But they must be praying their gamble hasn’t backfired and he remains fit and fresh for the singles.  Croatia will be hoping that it is USO Marin and not his slacker twin brother hacker Marin who turns up for the match and doesn’t go awol at any time.  And I will be wishing that, despite having to pick one favourite over another, Marin does the job for Croatia even though it will be at the expense of Delpo.  Because, should the match go to the final rubber, I cannot bring myself to support a servebot.  It is one dilemma I would like to avoid, thank you very much.

So don’t let me down, Marin.  Never mind about Croatia.  I am not supporting you so you can be the hero for Croatia.  I am supporting you so I don’t have to suffer the indignity of watching a servebot try to win the Davis Cup for Croatia.  Think of my aesthetic sensibilities.  And leave your slacker twin at home.  This is no time for imposters.  Only proper tennis players required, thank you very much.

Davis Cup: Day 1 – All Square

I have a confession to make.  I know what you are thinking: go see a priest.  It’s not that kind of a confession.

Now, my favourite player in the entire universe and beyond is, of course, our Andy.  That would be Andy Murray, world number 1.  I may have mentioned that once or twice in my recent blogs.  What do mean you haven’t noticed?  Shame on you.  Anyhow, behind him – not literally, it’s not panto season yet – in the tennis pecking order, there is a motley crew of players that I follow.  The drawback of following a motley crew of players is that, most inconveniently, they do tend to play each other now and then.

So it is that two of these said favourite players are playing each other in this weekend’s Davis Cup final between Croatia and Argentina in Zagreb.  I confess to being conflicted (knew we’d get there eventually).  I happen to have had a soft spot for Croatia ever since the Goran Ivanisevic days, plus Marin Cilic is one rung higher on the motley crew list than Juan Martin Del Potro for Argentina (and not just because Delpo defeated Andy and GB in the semi finals, honest).  So I guess I am supporting Croatia, or at least I would be unequivocally if only young Borna Coric had been able to play as the second singles player.  Alas, he is injured, which not only puts a big dent in Croatia’s chances of winning the Davis Cup, but he has been replaced by a servebot who can’t play tennis!

His name is Ivo Karlovic.  He’s 6 ft 11.  Yes, that’s 6 ft 11.  Surely nobody that height should be entitled to play anything other than basketball or do high jump.  They really should have a height limit in tennis.  It’s not on for these tallies to ruin the game.  They clearly have an unfair advantage by sheer dint of their height.  Nobody over 6 ft 6 should be allowed to play tennis because there is no point.  It would just turn into a tedious serve fest, like turning up to a football match for 90 minutes of penalty shootouts.  Who wants to pay to see that?  These servebots are like those ball machines that blast a barrage of balls at you – and that’s it.  Machines that have no other function.  Servebots are like that – they simply churn out aces or, when they miss, double faults.  They cannot actually play tennis.

I have another confession to take.  No, still not of the kind requiring priests.  I am a tennis purist and proud of it.  I believe a person has no right be playing professionally on a tennis court if they can’t actually play tennis.  It makes a mockery of the game.  So I was going to be damned before I would support Ivo Karlovic, let alone against a favourite.  Worse, his inclusion meant that all the burden would now be on Croatia’s number 1 player Marin Cilic, current world number 6, who would have to play and win 3 matches in a row to do the job for them.  Even Andy couldn’t manage that against Argentina in the semi finals.  Marin would have his work cut out just like Andy did to get past Delpo, a man who, once upon a time – back when he had wrists – had beaten defending champion Roger Federer from a set down and two sets to one down, to win the US Open as a mere babe…oh, ok, as a 20 year old.  That’s how good Delpo is; good enough to have once got the better of peak-Federer.  So either Marin was going to have to beat him after having played two other matches beforehand, or Karlovic would have to get a point.

That was highly unlikely in the first place (did I mention he can’t actually play tennis?), even if he was ranked 20th in the world – how??!! oh yeah, the aces – nevertheless, I couldn’t bring myself to support a player (and I use that word very loosely) who went against everything I believed in.  So unless Marin were to win all three of his matches (or lose two out of three to give Argentina a clear win), I would be facing the prospect of going against Croatia in the final winner takes all reverse rubber.  Argh!

At least on day one things would be a little more straightforward with Marin playing the second Argentinian, Federico Delbonis, and Karlovic taking on the mighty Delpo, and there was no way I was supporting anyone other than Juan Martin, thank you very much.  Talk about a case of split loyalties.

At least with Marin’s match I knew exactly who I wanted to win.  And for 2 sets he was winning….and then he went walkabout for the next two sets.  Maybe he was thinking about where he would be going for his winter sun beach holiday.  Who knows where Marin goes when he disappears in matches.  Marin is a classic Jekyll and Hyde.  Like Andy, he has an evil twin who inexplicably takes over at the most inopportune times and turns him, in a flash, from a US Open Grand Slam winning champion into a myopic council court hacker.  So, for the first two sets he was USO Marin, the player who has also had the distinction of having taken out Federer at a US Open, in the semi final on his way to winning it.  He was all big serves, big groundstrokes, big winners.  In the 3rd set, hacker twin Marin takes over and suddenly Marin couldn’t buy a first serve for love nor trophy.  A service percentage in the 70s suddenly plummeted to the 30s.  Even if your serve isn’t your primary weapon, that’s a losing stat.  If your serve is your primary weapon, it’s disastrous.

Before you could say jeez, aren’t the Argentinians a noisy bunch, it was two sets all.  Marin had gone from being a player who had beaten Andy Murray in a Masters final, and Novak Djokovic three weeks ago, to being wobblier than a mound of jelly.  After running out of invectives against his midget mentality (a most apt description of him which I have shamelessly stolen from another fan), I reasoned that he really, really wasn’t going to lose in front of his home fans to a world number 41 after having been two sets ahead, and effectively lose Croatia the Davis Cup in the opening rubber.  It didn’t matter how much of a head case Marin was, it wasn’t going to happen.

After losing the 4th set by embarrassingly missing a conventional overhead that was easier to hit in than to hit out, Marin disappeared for a bathroom break.  When he returned he broke Delbonis in the opening game.  Welcome back, USO Marin.  It was like a tennis version of Clark Kent disappearing into a phone booth – or bathroom, in this case – and coming out as Superman.  I wonder whether Marin was wearing red underpants beneath his shorts…Another break of serve and it was all over.  6-3, 7-5, 3-6, 1-6, 2-6.  Danger averted.  It had only taken him 3 hrs and 30 minutes.  But that was ok; it wasn’t like he had any other matches to play this weekend.

That was supposed to have been the straightforward match.  Next up was the other one.  You know who against Delpo.  What to do?  Who to support?  I wasn’t going to support a servebot.  Certainly not against a player of Juan Martin’s calibre.  I knew it would be a horrible match to watch.  Tedious to watch ace after ace, double fault after double fault, and painful to see Karlovic lumbering around clumsily mis-hitting shots a junior boy would dispatch with panache.  I wanted Delpo to get this over with and win the match as quickly as possible and put us all out of our miseries.  Including himself, because he didn’t exactly look happy out there.  How could he be?  He wasn’t participating in a tennis match.  It was either an ace or a double fault from the giant Croatian.  Karlovic had started wretchedly by losing his opening service game so it looked like I would get my wish as Delpo easily held his serve to win the set 6-4.

The pattern continued in the 2nd set.  Ace or double fault from Karlovic.  Irritation from Delpo as he couldn’t capitalise because every chance he got from a poor serve would be wiped out by an unreturnable one.  It was tennis with a jagged, ragged edge.  Inevitably, they went to a tie break.  Now Delpo had his chance.  Two set points.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, Karlovic was overcome with an overwhelming urge to play tennis.  WTF?!  Perhaps it was because he was playing in front of his own fans, but he managed to elevate his level to the point where he actually hit a few groundstrokes in a row – otherwise known as a rally – and seemed to shock his opponent into making mistakes.  Delpo probably couldn’t believe how Karlovic, after being so rubbish, had suddenly figured out how to play a bit.  He was so shell-shocked it seemed to put him completely off his game.  After saving a set point on Delpo’s serve with his best play of the match, Karlovic took the next three points to win the tie break and steal the set.  One set all.

This was torture.  As the match wore on, even the crowd started to get restless and the atmosphere was becoming very tetchy, with exuberant fans frequently disrupting the players’ serves and causing them to stop their service motion.  Towards the end things had got so heated some fans had to be ejected.  Well, that’s what happens when you don’t distract them with some actual tennis.  Not that Diego Maradona seemed to care.  He was there as a supporter rather than ex-player and was behaving more like one of his typical football fans on the terraces as opposed to a VIP guest at a tennis match.  He shouted, screamed, gestured and jumped up and down more enthusiastically than the most hardcore Argentinian supporter there – and that was saying something.  Frankly, he was more entertaining to watch than the tennis.

Thankfully Delpo managed to contain his frustrations with the crowd and the disruptive rhythm of the match sufficiently to break and take the third set.  He then held his serve through the 4th before breaking late on to go 6-5 up.  Unsurprisingly, Delpo hadn’t faced a single break point in the match so, to the blessed relief of everybody, he had no trouble serving out and putting us all out of our misery.  4-6, 6-7, 6-3, 7-5.  After he hit the winning shot, a clearly relieved Delpo turned towards his raucous Argentinian supporters, fists clenched by his side, and soaked in their adulation.  It’s heartening the way Delpo always loves to share his winning moment with his fans.

So, as predicted, it’s 1 point each in the tie, but delivered in a very unpredictable way.  Doubles next.  This is what Croatia will be gambling on.  For the successful partnership of Marin and doubles specialist Ivan Dodig to bring in that crucial point to put Croatia 2-1 up going into the reverse singles on Sunday.  Though Marin is not currently listed as playing, he certainly will start, as he and Dodig have a far better chance of getting a point in the doubles than Marin does of beating Delpo in the singles, which would be 50-50 at best.  They are a formidable pairing who defeated the legendary Bryan brothers and the world number 2 pairing of Herbert and Mahut in the quarter and semi finals, so should be favourites to win.

What is not certain is whether Argentina will risk playing Delpo in the doubles as they did against GB in the semi, or whether they even need to.  Against GB, once Delpo had beaten Andy, it was game over so Argentina didn’t need to worry about playing Delpo in the reverse singles.  But here, they will need him, and need him fresh to take on Marin in the second singles, so it will be a gamble to play Delpo, especially with his injury history.  It may make more sense to save him – and those fragile wrists – for the reverse singles.

And what about poor me?  If my two favs play each other twice, that’s a double conflict of interest.  I really must try to have less favourites!  Before anyone suggests the obvious, it’s not a win-win; it’s a lose-lose.

Ah well, may the best man win.  Whoever he may be.  So long as he can play tennis.

The Olympics: Day 9

Gymnastics:  Forget Super Saturday.  That’s so four years ago.  In Rio 2016, it’s all about Sensational Sunday.  Gold!  Gold!  Gold!  Max Whitlock Olympic Champion!  Now, we at Random Towers did say that young Max had the look of an Olympic champion about him, but that was on the pommel.  A floor medal was a possibility as he is the world silver medallist, bur with the Japanese Kenzo Shirai being able to throw out quadruple twists, a silver was the most that could have been expected.  But if you are going to do quad twists, you do still have to be able to land them cleanly.  That was the story of the floor final.  Max went out early and was clean, beautiful, elegant.  High degree of difficulty executed with easy brilliance and nailed on landings.  15.633.  Beat that if you can.  They couldn’t.  First Shirai.  Huge degree of difficulty executed with surprising tentativeness and wobbly landings.  The first one had bitten the dust.  Then, the very last competitor, Samuel Mikulak of the USA, the highest qualifier.  High degree of difficulty with…no!  Not happening.  Too many big hops on landings.  Max was the floor Olympic champion!  What what can I say?  I am floored (not a joke that will be doing the rounds, no).  Unexpected medals are such fun.  Unexpected golds are just…amazingly, mindblowingly brilliant.

Golf:  No silvers allowed today, Justin.  It’s Sensational Sunday.  Get with the programme.  Read the script.  A birdie putt to win on the 18th.  In the hole, sunshine.  Sofa coaching is so effective.  Justin Rose did not fluff his lines.  That’s an Oscar…oops, wrong kinda gold, I mean, the Olympic gold for Justin Rose.  Gold medal number 2.  Keep em’ coming people.  Keep em’ coming.

Gymnastics Part II:  The Pommel Horse.  The bonus gold.  Britain were having such a, erm, sensational day that we had the luxury of bonus golds.  In gymnastics.  Who would have thunk it?  After all the excitement of the floor, the first thing we all had to do was calm down.  Which was quite difficult with all these golds reigning down on us.  Statement from the sofa to the others: you are all fighting for the bronze.  You are not touching gold and silver.  End of.  Typically, the American refused to listen.  Alexander Naddour scored 15.700.  What?!  That was a big score.  A threat.  Next up was Oleg Verniaiev, the all around silver medallist.  The only other possible threat.  He was listening and mucked up early.  He looked drained after his all around efforts.  So that was him out.  Next!  Our Louis.  Order to Louis: stay on the bloomin’ horse!   He did!  15.833.  In the lead!  Get in there.  Next up the European champion from Armenia, Harutyun Merdinyan.  He was looking really good until…that pesky dismount.  Next!  Our Max.  Order to Max: bring home the gold, son.  Unbelievable!  Ok, a little ragged on the Busnari, but huge difficulty.  15.966!  Get in there!  The final gymnast to go.  David Belyavskiy of Russia, who Max edged for the bronze in the all around.  The highest he had ever scored was 15.300.  So could he really threaten?  A big error at the start.  Bad.  Then two Busnaris.  Good.  Dismount middling.  No.  Louis’s silver was safe, and Max was the Olympic champion again!  Max mine a double (yeah, yeah, terrible).  Right, who’s next?!

Track Cycling:  The cyclists – who else?  Where else could GB be guaranteed a gold medal?  So, men’s sprint final.  It was going to be a gold for GB.  Or it was going to be a gold for GB.  Ah, how relaxing.  How stress free.  Thank you track cyclists.  About the only lot who show any consideration for the state of our tickers.  So would it be Jason or Callum was the real question.  Answer?  There was only ever going to be one outcome.  King Kenny had it in the bag.  2-0.  It was gold medal number 4 of the day for GB and gold medal number 5 for Jason Kenny.  Jason is fast becoming Britain’s Michael Phelps.  Arise Sir Jason?  Right, next!

Tennis:  When doesn’t the track cycling clash with the tennis?  Andy Murray was taking on Juan Martin Del Potro in the gold medal match.  Now I love Delpo.  If I could be happy for anyone to beat my favourite tennis player, it would be him.  But I just couldn’t see it.  I couldn’t envisage him beating Andy over 5 sets.  If the final had been 3 sets, then yes, Delpo had a punter’s chance.  But unlike the previous rounds, the final was best of 5, which gave Andy a huge advantage.

In theory.  Andy never makes life easy for us – or himself.  He broke Del Potro in his opening game, but promptly lost his serve.  No problem.  Break him again.  Problem – he got broken again straight away.  What was going on in Andy’s head?  Taking control and then giving it way.  This was going to be another gruelling epic.  Over 45 minutes gone and only 8 games played.  We were going to be here all night at this rate.  The momentum looked like it was firmly with Delpo now, but tennis does strange things to a player’s psychology.  From nowhere, by dint of serving first, Andy earned a couple of set points on Del Potro’s serve.  And took it on the second.  7-5.  One set up.  Quite how he had won the set with a first serve percentage of 39% only he will ever know.

On to the second set.  Goodness knows what new crisis would befall Andy.  In both his previous matches, he had won the first set comfortably, only to falter in the second.  The pattern seemed destined to repeat itself as inexplicable inconsistency led to a loss of the opening game.  Example – a gorgeous backhand down the line, followed by a delicate drop shot, followed by an unforced error.  It was like a battle between good and evil for Andy’s tennis soul.  Del Potro continued holding on to his advantage and won the set 6-4, sending the Argentinian fans wild.  After 2 hours and 15 minutes, it was one set all.  It was going to be a really, really long night.  Not good.  Had they not seen the schedule?  Did they not know Usain was running tonight?

Andy really needed to improve his first serve percentage, but at 2-3 in the third set, it was Delpo who struggled with his serve, hitting two double faults.  Andy grabbed his chance, breaking on the second break point (why does he never break on the first?).  It was clear Delpo’s level had gone down, which was hardly surprising considering they had been playing for 3 hours and they were still in the middle of the third set!  Some weary forehand errors from Del Potro and good Murray pressure earned Andy 3 set points.  He fluffed the first with an unforced error (quel surprise), but made no mistake with the next, a driving crosscourt return of serve to win the set 6-2.  Come on Andy!  One more set to go.  We might just be in time for Usain!

But Andy is Andy.  If you thought he was on easy street now, hah, you haven’t watched enough Murray matches.  For those of us who have, it was same old, same old.  Took his eye off the ball and lost his opening service game.  Not wise to give away a free game to a mental giant like Delpo.  This is a man who, if it wasn’t for those horrible injuries, would have been a member of the Big Four, or perhaps made a Big Five.  Make no mistake Andy, you were messing with a champion.  But, boy, does Andy loves a fight.  Get into hole.  Get out of it.  Get broken?  Break back.  But Andy was still struggling to get rhythm on his serve.  Break again.  Bad.  Break back.  Good.  4 breaks in a row and we were level.

By now, Delpo looked like he was really starting to suffer.  He had been clutching his thigh and grimacing during the previous service game, and looked like he was just hanging on with those get-out-of-jail bludgeoning forehands.  At the next break, Delpo had his thigh massaged.  There must have been some magic in the oil because it seemed to revive him.  He held his service game to love with a plethora of thunderous forehands.  What a lionheart.  This really was a battle of attrition.  Gruelling.  Grinding.  Draining.  An incredible mental and physical effort from both players.  Suddenly Delpo seemed to be back in the groove, and looking ominous.  Andy was back to struggling on his serve and Delpo only needed one break point to go 4-3 up.  Soon, it was 5-3.  Although Andy finally held his next service game comfortably, Del Potro would be serving to take the match into a fifth set.  Time to give on seeing Usain.  In fact, forget Usain.  At this rate, they would still be playing at the closing ceremony.

Andy was back in that hole.  And there is only one thing he does when he’s there.  He grits and grinds his way out of it.  Gets break points and mucks them up.  Too easy.  Need to do more work.  More unbelievable defending.  An unreal epic rally somehow won by Andy brought up another break point and had the crowd on its feet, raucously applauding both players.  Poor Delpo had to rest on the net to recover.  But if you thought he was done, forget it.  What a first serve to save it!  What champions they were!  “This is macho tennis,” said the awed commentator, and, boy, was he right.  A cruel drop shot from Andy which Delpo somehow got to – how?! – but Andy was able to hit the winner past him.  Break point number 4.  Come on Andy!  Get it done.  In the end, stamina did it for Andy.  Delpo just couldn’t give any more, and a weary forehand into the net meant we were level.  Now could Andy hold his serve?  There was a feeling that if he held his serve, this might be all over.  But this being Andy, it was hardly going to be straightforward, since Del Potro wasn’t giving up without a herculean final effort.

Andy was soon 0-30 down to yet another forehand onslaught from Delpo, and a wondrous backhand winner down the line (a heartening sight considering those debilitating left wrist injuries) gave him two break back points.  Andy saved the first, and finally hit an ace to save the second.  Another ace!  Wow!  Now it was advantage Andy.  Come on, one more.  One more.  Yes!  At last, he held.

3h 53 mins played.  Delpo was serving to stay in the final.  Come on Andy, time to give it over to Usain.  Finish it off.  The sofa coach was knackered watching from the sofa.  Sofa coach needed a lie down.  Another brutal forehand winner from Delpo, cancelled out by a great return and follow up volley from Andy.  15-15.  A return of serve long from Andy redeemed by a great forehand from him to draw an error from Delpo.  30-30.  The momentum swings were dizzying.  Andy was now two points away from victory.  The tension was gut wrenching and the partisan crowd could barely contain themselves.  A great return from Andy to Delpo’s backhand drew a short ball, but just as Andy was about to put away a winner, someone shouted out from the crowd and put him off.  Idiot!  Andy looked too exhausted to do anything but glower in frustration.  Game point Del Potro.  Another great return from Andy to Delpo’s backhand to draw an error.  Deuce.

Then, more drama as the play was suddenly stopped.  A rowdy Argentinian, wearing a very silly Jester hat in his country’s pale blue and white colours, and his mate were ejected from the arena, but not before he had waved goodbye to everyone in the crowd – talk about milking it – to boos, jeers and cheers.  After that prolonged delay, and with the crowd in a frenzy, the umpire somehow, eventually, managed to get the crowd to be pin drop quiet.  Let’s play.  A rally and missed cross court forehand from Delpo!  Match point Andy!  Come on!  The clock had hit 4 hours.  Could Andy do it?  No!  Return into the net.  Argh!  Deuce again.  Better return to Delpo’s backhand, and Delpo netted!  Match point number two.  Another rally, another final weary backhand into the net from Delpo!

At last, at long, long last, Andy had done it.  Four exhausting hours, and he was the Olympic champion again.  In a touching moment at the net, both men were hugging and crying on each other’s shoulder, such was the emotion.  It was a pity there had to be a loser, because neither player had given an inch.  Neither player deserved to lose.  It may have been Sensational Sunday for Britain and Andy Murray, but it was also a sensational silver for tennis’s lost champion.

So, Andy’s epic, marathon win made it 5 gold medals and 1 gold pending in the sailing, plus 3 silvers, for Team GB on Sensational Sunday.  8 medals in one day.  What a remarkable day of sport for Britain.

Athletics:  Finally, after four thrilling, but energy sapping, hours of tennis, we could get to the athletics.  Fortunately, with Andy’s impeccable sense of timing, he had managed to win the final just in time to be able to catch Usain Bolt’s 100m semi-final.  Another cruise to victory in 9.86 seconds, and a stroll into yet another Olympic final.  It really is a foregone conclusion, isn’t it?

It wasn’t just the tennis and Sensational Sunday for Team GB that was threatening to overshadow the Bolt show.  An amazing world record in the 400m from Wayde van Niekerk of South Africa, who smashed Michael Johnson’s record, to win the Olympic gold in 43.03 from lane 8.  MJ’s record had stood since 1999 but van Nierkerk bettered it by 0.15 secs, and a new star was born.  Beat that, Bolt.

Who is trying to steal my thunder, Usain might have asked.  Don’t they know I am the Lightening Bolt?  The king of the track.  Waves and claps to the crowd even as he was preparing for the race.  A smile and point to the camera.  Ever the showman.  Really, the only thing that was going to steal the show was Usain not winning.  And that was never going to happen.  Not even with his usual atrocious start.  Too damn tall.  Not even with public villain number one, Justin Gatlin’s, brilliant start.  Not even with a big gap to overcome.  For a split second of a moment we might have wondered…and then he powered through to the finish line in his customary first place.  Nothing spectacular this time; no world record.  A solid 9.81.  He had to work for it.  But he was still easing up as he was pounding his chest in his trademark victory salute.  No wonder Gatlin had to resort to drugs.  Even then, he has never been able to get anywhere near him.  Don’t bother Justin.  You are in the presence of greatness.

Usain is a man of the people.  He interacts with the crowd: smiling, waving, kissing, hand slapping.  He takes selfies with the heptathletes.  Usain and Jess – what a photo.  He takes off his shoes and stands up on the boarding so he can get to his Jamaican team mates.  Handshakes and thanks.  Then, the money shot.  The lightening bolt pose for the photographers.  He soaks up the adulation of the crowd.  They chant his name as though he is a gladiator.  Forget gladiator.  He is the emperor of athletics.  A hug for the young pretender van Nierkerk, who dared to steal his thunder with a world record.  But no one can take the attention away from Usain.  He is too compelling to watch.  If sport is entertainment, Usain is your man.  If sport is pushing the limit of human endeavour, Usain is your man.  The fastest man on earth.  A running god.  A Man United fan (he has good taste).  Winner.  Hero.  Legend.

The Olympics: Day 2

Women’s Road Race:  A lot of hypocritical bleating about Lizzie Armistead’s participation in the race after getting cleared at the last minute by CAS over 3 missed tests.  Cycling is a sport where nearly all its top racers have been tainted by drugs to the point where I am not sure most fans believe anybody is clean, so all this whinging just comes across as sanctimonious.  Missing 3 drugs tests (reduced to 2 on appeal) is a minor infringement compared to what many top cyclists have done, several of whom have been allowed to return to the sport after actual drugs offenses.  Likewise, there are many competitors who have served drugs bans, not to mention non-track and field Russian competitors (as well as Kenyans), taking part here, so it’s rather unfair to single out Armistead when she hasn’t actually failed a drugs test.

As it happens, Lizzie didn’t win or medal, but the race was overshadowed by a horrific crash on the descent involving race leader Annemiek Van Vleuten, who was taken to hospital with severe concussion and three small fractures to her lower back.  Fingers crossed she recovers soon.

Tennis: Ok, I will lay my cards on the table.  I don’t think tennis should be in the Olympics.  But by God, what an amazing match between Novak Djokovic and Juan Martin Del Potro!  The last time these two boys met, they served up an epic 4h 43 min semi-final at Wimbledon in 2014, which Djokovic eventually won.  The last time these two boys met at the Olympics was ironically also at Wimbledon Centre Court, at London 2012.  It was Delpo who had triumphed then in straight sets to win the bronze medal.  In between, and since, poor Del Potro’s tennis career has been ravaged by persistent wrist injuries.

Here, in the buzzing atmosphere of the Tennis Centre at Barra Olympic Park, the two Grand Slam champions played another thrilling match with breathtaking rallies and scintillating winners that had the crowd roaring with delight and bowing in respect.  Del Potro, helped by some pile driver forehands and a couple of friendly net cords, stormed his way to win the first set on a tie break, having failed to convert numerous break points on Djokovic’s serve during the set.

Djokovic never knows when he is beaten (except by big serving Americans on grass, obviously!), and even though he was on the back foot the entire match, he somehow took Del Potro to yet another tie break in the second set, but the zen was with the lanky Argentinian.  It was fittingly ironic that the winning point should be a forehand crosscourt winner helped on its way by an accommodating net cord.

It was an incredibly emotional match for both men.  Djokovic was visibly upset, having lost perhaps his last chance to win an Olympic medal.  For Delpo, it was another positive step on his comeback trail, and it was heartening to see him hit through his backhand several times.  There was even a magnificent crosscourt backhand winner halfway through the second set, which gives hope that his wrist troubles are behind him and he can be competitive on his backhand side.

I still don’t think tennis should be in the Olympics, but the players don’t half make it difficult to argue against kicking it out.

Beach Volleyball:  What a sexist sport!  How come the women have to wear itsy bitsy tenny weeny bikinis while the men stay modest in t-shirt and shorts?  Where’s the equality?  Let’s have budgie smugglers for the men, or t-shirt and shorts for all.  Whaddya mean people (ie men) only watch beach volleyball to ogle the women?

Swimming:  Ok, I actually missed Adam Peaty’s 100m Breaststroke gold medal win.  Oops.  Blame Novak and Juan Martin!  By the time the tennis had finished and I had switched channels, Adam was celebrating.  Well, it was never in doubt, was it?  He won it by a mile.  Unlike the last British man to win an Olympic Gold, Adrian Moorhouse, also in the 100m Breaststroke, who won in Seoul 1988 by one hundredth of a second.  Adam though could have stopped for a cup of tea and a chat and still made it comfortably in first place.  He destroyed his world record again (he seems to be on a record breaking loop), lowering it dramatically from 57.55 to 57.13.  Even Adrian Moorhouse must have been satisfied with that! [see Olympics Day 1]

Adam Peaty’s gold medal win seemed to be inspiring as, in the very next race, Jazz Carlin won a superb silver in the Women’s 400m Freestyle behind Katie Ledecky, who was demonstrating her own version of Peatyesque dominance.  After waiting 2 whole days for a medal, Britain had won 2 medals in the space of a few minutes.  Bit like buses then…