Freeze frames from the French Open

Over the last fortnight, our senses have been bombarded with an overload of scenes, sounds and experiences from Paris. I am yet to recover from the hours of deep-red clay hitting my eyes, the sound of rhythmic grunts and screeches interspersed with monotonic deliveries of ‘Egalite’, the multitude of characters with racquets in hand and dreams in heart who flitted across my television set, some more often than others.

But I know that all this will soon pass into the dull recesses of my memory, simplistically summarised  as one more title run by Rafa and Serena, one more glorious addition to the Rafa-Novak rivalry, one more perfect French Open spring. And all I will have left with me are a few random, scattered  scenes which will remain etched in my mind. The particular reason for them being there is hard to fathom. They are not necessarily the most critical moments of the fortnight, not the most exciting, not even the most relevant. But in the days ahead, these snapshots will nevertheless mould my recollections of this year’s tournament, fashion my personal opinions on the dynamics within the game, stay with me longer than most. My freeze frames from the French Open 2013.

 

Gael Monfils plays a stretch volley winner against Thomas Berdych in the first round, turns to the crowd behind him and gently raises both his arms as the conductor of an orchestra might. The crowd responds as one, with deafening, lusty cheers.

Some players like to perform in a vacuum, some are able to turn on a crowd in their favour when they need to, and then, there is Gael Monfils. He never plays a tennis match without getting the audience involved, and in turn feeds off their energy to take his play to the next level. He did more of the same in his home Slam, playing some exhilarating tennis, and creating the biggest upset and loudest buzz of the first week. And he did all of this with a slightly more muted approach to the game than is customary. I gladly went along on the whirlwind ride across three exciting rounds, till he met defeat, quite predictably, in a deflated and completely spent state.

Tommy Robredo collapses into the welcome shade of his chair after beating Nicolas Almagro in the fourth round. He struggles to bite into an energy bar while accepting congratulations from an on-court official and choking back the emotions welling up from inside.

Robredo, proud member of the Over-30 Renaissance Club, had just done the unbelievable. He had won his third consecutive 5-set match after losing the first two sets, the first man in 86 years to do so in a Grand Slam tournament. The magnitude of his feat was just beginning to seep in. Coming at this stage of his career, no one could grudge him a few tears at that moment.