
A few short weeks ago, Roger Federer lost a prize that he had held for 237 weeks, and most thought that he would only give up when he retired 8212; ATP8217;s ranking as the world8217;s number one tennis player. Now, as the first major tournament since he lost that ranking gets interesting, and with it Federer8217;s last chance to salvage something of value from his annus horriblis, the world looks to Flushing Meadows in New York. The Olympics are spectacular; the football World Cup emotional; but for lessons in how to deal with invincibility, overconfidence and inexplicable failure, few sports are more transparent than tennis. This weekend, as Federer tried to explain how his new-found vulnerability would affect his playing, an international audience was forced to adjust, with him, from a unipolar to a bipolar world.
Federer is a once-in-a-generation player, a natural, the Bill Clinton of tennis. A year ago, he might have been 8212; no, was 8212; considered unreachable. And yet, there is always someone younger and more determined, someone who might initially appear pedestrian and yet manages to lay sublime greatness low 8212; a Nadal, an Obama. Federer will try to defend his US Open title by finally changing his game to reflect his mortality; just as Bill Clinton eventually settled into playing the senior statesman at last week8217;s Democratic convention, rather than the role of the main attraction he has always considered his own by right.