The last days of Roger Federer

By: Martín Franco Vélez

Tennis made me quit alcohol.

It’s a bit more complicated, but, for now, I'll stick to a more benevolent version of the story: stepping back into the courts had much to do with that decision. I started playing it as a little kid in my hometown, Manizales, Colombia, in the early nineties, with a discipline that sometimes overwhelmed me. Although I never stood a chance of becoming a great player, tennis accompanied me during my childhood and early teenage years. I still remember the weekends I spent on courts with my friends, imitating our idols of those days: Pete Sampras, Jim Courier, Goran Ivanisevic, and, you bet, Andre Agassi.

Andre Agassi in the ninties

Andre was something else. The "Las Vegas Kid" was, for me and all my tennis buddies, the brightest star in the tennis universe. His rebellious persona, blonde mane (which we later discovered was fake), oversized earrings, and denim shorts embodied everything we aspired to emulate. However, years later, when I read his biography, "Open," I was struck to learn that he harbored a deep-seated hatred for tennis and was coerced into playing by his tyrannical father.

Then came my teenage years. And alcohol. I began discovering and navigating the world while indulging in drinking, heavy drinking. First collateral damage? Tennis. I put away the racquet, and I stopped playing. However, I kept watching it on TV, especially the Grand Slams, thanks to a young Swiss who stunned the world when, in 2001 Wimbledon, he defeated the then-king of tennis, Pete Sampras. It was not in a semi-final nor a quarters match. It was in the round of 16. Who was this guy who dared to defeat the seven-time Wimbledon champion? Roger Federer.

For two decades, Roger was one of the main reasons I kept in touch with the world of tennis, watching matches on the TV (Rafael Nadal was the other main reason). My life carried on, and during the early 2000s I left my hometown, began working, lived in Spain, got married, and had a son. Despite these changes, I always kept track of Roger. To me, he epitomized the purest embodiment of beauty, aesthetics, and athleticism in an already beautiful sport.

We all anticipated Roger's eventual retirement from the courts. That moment arrived during the 2022 Laver Cup. To echo the sentiments of John McEnroe after his unforgettable defeat against Bjorn Borg in the 1980 Wimbledon final, it felt as though "something drowned inside me." Roger's farewell match occurred in a doubles match alongside Rafa Nadal. Despite their loss against Jack Sock and Frances Tiafoe during the Laver Cup, the iconic image of Roger and Rafa holding hands and shedding tears will eternally resonate with us. Perhaps one of the most heartwarming moments in sports.

Federer and Djokovic after the 2019 Wimbledon's final

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Recently, Random House published Geoff Dyer's book, "The Last Days of Roger Federer," in Spanish. Its intriguing premise on the back cover prompted me to buy it: "What happens to great artists and athletes as they age?" While the book wasn't particularly thrilling, it offered insightful reflections on tennis, capturing Federer's allure, his 2017 comeback, and his final triumphs. Dyer remarks that Federer's real victory was in proving that beauty and competence in tennis could coexist.

These reflections resonated with me, especially since I've returned to playing tennis with the same consistency, albeit at a modest level. Dyer's thoughts on the significance of the last point in a match made me realize that in tennis, and life, it's the next point that matters most. This is a lesson Federer himself demonstrated throughout his career.

Roger Federer and Andre Agassi

Tennis, unlike boxing, hasn't been extensively covered by writers. David Foster Wallace was a notable exception, with several tennis books and an essay on the 2007 Wimbledon final between Federer and Nadal. There are some novels and biographies, like Julian Barnes' "The Only Story," and John Carlin's biography of Nadal. However, Andre Agassi's "Open," co-written with Pulitzer Prize winner J.R. Moehringer, remains a standout, especially for Agassi's reflection on his first defeat by Federer.

In "The Last Days of Roger Federer," Dyer suggests that Federer's retirement marks the end of an era of beauty in tennis. However, he might not have seen Carlos Alcaraz play.

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When Roger Federer reached the end of his career, I found myself still immersed in drinking. It had been many years since I last held a racquet, until one afternoon, while playing football with my son in the park, a man in a hoodie approached us and mentioned offering tennis classes at a nearby court. The prospect of playing again ignited a sudden surge of excitement within me. Although I tried to persuade my son to join, his life revolved —still does— around football. I decided to give myself a chance. Without a racquet or even proper attire, I hit the court. A few days later, I bought a racquet, clothes and tennis shoes and arranged for a class.

Three years have passed since then. I didn't quit drinking immediately, but as days passed, I became more excited about playing tennis. I met many people with whom I play today. I started playing tournaments again. Eventually, life revealed to me that drinking held no allure anymore and that I had evolved into a different person compared to years prior. Over time, I completely stopped drinking. Nowadays, I don't regret that decision for even a moment, and I believe that, much like in tennis, what matters in life isn't solely the point that just transpired: it's the next one.