Rank 'Em (Assuming Your Head is Still in Tact From the Sheer Awesomeness)

If you've been on the internet in the last 36 hours, then you know: There's no escaping the almost six hour, five set insta-classic Australian Open Final between Novak Djokovic and Rafael Nadal. Almost a year ago, Yours Truly presented this match-up as top bill on the ATP Tour. In the wee hours of Sunday Morning, we witnessed all that potential culminate in one of the most stunning tennis matches I've ever seen.

I won't add anything to Brian Phillip's analysis. It's perfect and well-written and I co-sign 110% if you're willing to overlook the mathematical impossibility of it.

No, this post is more about just how good of a match it was, relatively. As in, relative to the best match ever played. By the time we're done, we should have a pretty good understanding of where this match ranks compared to what is the tennis match equivalent of the The Beatles--the 2008 Wimbledon Final. So far, the Internet has been timid about offering opinions concerning the conversation. No one wants to be that guy who claims U2 is better than the Beatles. And as of this writing at least one person has, and another hasn't. But neither offer much by the way of analysis, or why one match should be given/retain the top spot. So, I will take the responsibility on myself. Let's meet our contestants:

The Champ

R. Nadal v. R. Federer for the 2008 Wimbledon Championship. Centre Court. Five Setter. Two rain delays. 6-4 6-4 6-7 6-7 9-7 in favor of the Spaniard. It is telling, just so you know, that I supplied that scoreline instantaneously, without any sort of fact checking whatsoever. It just flew from my random access memory, like my ABCs or something.

The Contender

N. Djokovic v. R. Nadal, the 2012 Australian Open edition. Rod Laver Arena. Five Setter. One slight rain delay. 5-7 6-4 6-2 6-7 7-5 with Novak taking home the title.


The Breakdown


It should be noted, that I have no qualms pitting these two matches head to head, and it is not because I don't hold the '08 Wimby in a particular reverence. I most certainly do. I own the Produced by the BBC DVD of the Entire Match which I will just throw in and watch sometimes. For the fun of it. But what happened Sunday night was so monumental and affecting that it demands the Champ's company. Why is '08 the champ? Because of the context and backstory. It was No. 1 Federer on the ropes from No. 2 Rafael Nadal, whose Spring assault that year was unrelenting. Fed was on his home turf--five time champion at All England and going of his record breaking sixth title in a row. Nadal had lost the last two finals there to Federer (2006-2007) but had beaten Federer so totally at the French Open a month before that it looked like the tennis world's axis was beginning to turn.

Why '12 is challenging: For much the same reason. Here is No. 2 Nadal, loser of six straight to No. 1 Djokovic, looking for another such karmic shift, and draining every last reserve to do so. In fact the setting and context carries as much weight as the actual quality of play. You see, there is a group of matches that comprises the next tier down in our discussion. These include the '05 Aussie semi between Federer and Marat Safin, the '06 Rome Final between Fed and Nadal, and the '09 Aussie semi between Nadal and Fernando Verdasco. And these matches contain some of the best tennis, from a pure technical standpoint, that you will ever witness. Very hardcore fans will contend that the tennis in this sub category is even better than the kind of these two matches in question. But not one of those same fans will think about putting Tier 2 up with the above, because of the lesser context of them.

So what about the "tennis" in these two epic matches?  On the Wimby hand, you have the sport at its most sublime, crafted by the great artisan of the sport, Roger Federer himself. All of the attendant aesthetic beauty of Roger's game was present to an order of magnitude seldom witnessed. This has something to do with the court's grass surface--points are faster and shorter and when two of the best players ever are zoning for 4+ hours, your jaw is bound to become unhinged. In particular, the fourth set tiebreak includes three such face melters that I won't bother trying to explain here. Just do yourself and Earth a favor and watch that tiebreak.  You'll know the shots when you see them, especially since the crowd goes so ape on each one of them that you can't see the court anymore for the various limbs flailing about in front of the camera.

On the Aussie hand, you have breathtaking tennis played at its best, but intermittently. What it has going for it, though, is a sheer physical spectacle not touched by it's English counterpart. Here are two men, who's style of punishing tennis is rightly compared to boxing prize fighters, slugging and gutting and grunting it out over six (!) hours. Also consider the unpredictability that made for such good theater: At 2 sets to 1, Djok had 3 break points to take a 5-3 lead and serve for what would have been a relatively routine victory for him in 4 sets. But, but, Rafa saves all three with commanding authority, forces the tiebreak, wins the tiebreak and starts pumping his fists like some sort of demented cage fighter on crack. Djokovic is reeling, Rafa is surging, and you are just sure that there is no way in h-e-double hockey sticks that he (Rafa) is losing this match. And sure enough, in set 5 he breaks in the sixth game, and in the seventh is up 30-15 to basically put the match away. And then, that backhand. The gimmie to the open court that Nadal floats wide. And Djokovic breaks back (like what is HAPPENING?) and at 5-5 Djokovic somehow breaks again, but while serving for the match shanks a routine overhead before giving Nadal a break point. Which he saves with gutsy ground strokes that just look impossible after six hours of tennis. And then, Novak earns a match point and hits a mammoth serve down the middle, setting up a sitter on the forehand wing, which, at this point, you can barely watch him hit since you are not totally convinced the ball won't just fly off his racket for no reason, landing out and prolonging the match for another who-knows-how-long. It was just that kind of night.

Wild, wild match.

So, is it the mosaic of Wimbledon? Or the roller coaster ride Down Under?

The Winner

In the end, it's got to be 2008. There are three reasons I can think of: First, Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal are two of the best, most dominant players to ever play the sport. Novak Djokovic is making one of the better runs in history, but has not cracked into the echelon of Laver/Borg/Sampras where Rafa and Fed now reside. Wimbledon '08 pits two all time greats against each other, versus one all time great and the current hottest player on the tour.

Second, all Grand Slams are not created equal. Er, they are, I guess, in terms of rankings points. But while the top players chase history in the form of all four, there is a spoken and unspoken understanding that Wimbledon holds a more special place in the heart of pro tennis players everywhere. It has to do with it being the granddaddy of tennis tournaments, and with the tradition, the dress code, the grass courts, the iconic images of past champions and past matches. In fact, the current big three--Roger, Rafa, and Novak--have all publicly expressed that Wimbledon is the most important tournament to each of them. Ultimately, it's the only setting where the Greatest Match Ever could take place.

Third, (and you have to have watched both matches to get this) the quality of tennis from the '08 match is just unrivaled by anything else ever produced. Telling statistic: Last Sunday, Novak and Rafa combined for 140 unforced errors over 5 sets, compared to 101 winners (-39 differential). This is representative of the physical grind of the match. Yet three years ago at Wimbledon, Roger and Rafa, over another five sets, combined for 79 unforced errors, but (get this) 149 winners (+70). Just sheer quality. Pure, offensive, artistic tennis.  The kind worthy of the historic setting of Centre Court.

Rafa and Novak, congrats to you guys. You played the second greatest match in history. 

American...Idol?

Not much I want to say here, other than I think that the show should be called "America's Most Popular Karaoke Contest."

Way back when I had thought about how American Idol could maybe be sued for false advertising since so few of the winners actually go on to even marginal fame. Kelly Clarkson, Carrie Underwood, and that might be the list right there. But alas, that was one that never finished marinating.

So anyway, American Idol is just a fancy karaoke contest. That a lot of people watch. Season after season after season. Why? Who knows. 

Brandon Hantz: The New Face of Irrationality

After an eventful first week, Survivor: South Pacific starts to (already) hit it's stride. Kudos to the show's producers for uncovering the hidden formula to success, i.e. land contestants that are increasingly crazier with each passing season.

Case in point: Tonight's episode begins with about two minutes of Semhar on Redemption Island going what appears to be quite literally insane. It doesn't help that she freestyles all this poetry at random, all the while sort of rolling around on her bed of bamboo and swatting at bugs. If the show wanted to show you how crazy people go on Redemption, they did a fairly decent job of it here. (This all serves to put Matt's run on RI last season in even more impressive context. How did he do that?)

Who else joins the ranks of the crazy? Well, where do we start? How about with Brandon "I'm a Married Man" Hantz? He feels close enough with Coach (!) to share his deep dark secret--that he's the nephew of Russell "Pure Evil" Hantz. Coach responds with the appropriate amount of alarm, but eventually realizes it's no big deal, and the whole affair seems to serve as a bonding moment for the two, complete with a closing prayer.

But what makes Brandon so particularly crazy is his unfounded paranoia regarding tribemate Mikayla. Completely unprovoked, Brandon has marked her for elimination. He is unyielding in his quest to send her to RI, and his rationale is, you could say, suspect. Basically he finds her attractive, is married, and has made up his mind that she's nothing but trouble. This despite absolutely no advance from Mikayla. In fact, when tribal blew up (thanks, Coach), and Brandon admitted he'd stirred the pot against Mikayla, she looked genuinely puzzled as to who this kid even was. It was like a "wait, what was your name, again?" type thing. Just bizarre.

On top of that, since everyone was pretty much decided on Christine after Upolu lost the immunity/reward challenge, when Brandon went on this Mikayla Must Go kick it sent the entire camp into the proverbial tizzy. This culminated in Coach absolutely loosing his stuff at Tribal, indirectly calling out Brandon and contradicting himself too many times to even think about firing up the DVR and recapping here. In the end, sanity somewhat reigned as Christine went to Redemption and no one cast a vote for Mikayla. Thank goodness.

Pretty quiet night from the Savaii tribe, with the exception of Ozzy finding the hidden idol up in a tree that was completely unclimbable by anyone in the tribe but Ozzy. So someone's going to have to get up pretty early in the morning if they're going to try and convince me that the show's not giving Ozzy a little help here.

Also, John Cochran is just a titch neurotic and he's breaking the cardinal rule of early round Survivor (borrowed from Ocean's 11, of course): You've got to make them like you, then forget you. Well, Cochran might be failing on both accounts. Let's hope for his sake that the next couple weeks allow him to sort of sink into the background. If he doesn't, he's next in line for an all inclusive stay at the looney bin on Redemption Island.

Redemption Island, Take 2

It's back--this the granddaddy of all (network) reality television. And not a week too soon, either. Survivor returns (yes, along with the unfortunate Redemption Island wrinkle), with a brand new group of castaways. Brand new, that is, except for the two returning "heroes" Coach (the self-proclaimed Dragon Slayer) and Ozzy (he of the indomitable immunity challenge record), who are playing for their third time each.

And the show wastes no time pitting the two "heroes" (sorry, I can't ever actually call them heroes without the quotes. It's just too ridiculous) against each other in a reward challenge which Ozzy predictably dominates. At this point, we're thinking "Oh, poor Coach" since his whole tribe is giving off an undeniable "Ah crud, we're stuck with Coach" vibe. To make matters worse, Savaii tribe thinks Ozzy is a complete rockstar, blowing off building a shelter in order to just swim and "kick it." This in turn causes Dawn to flip out and break down emotionally, marking her as early elimination bait.

But Dawn is saved by one of the single worst immunity challenge performances I've ever witnessed. Semhar adamantly volunteers to throw coconuts into a net, then when it comes time, sort of just underhands them straight up into the air while mumbling "sorry" and saying "I'm so tired." The net she's aiming for is about 8 feet in front of her. Spoiler alert: she gets sent to Redemption Island.

Besides the end result, some interesting story lines developed. First, Russell "Pure Evil" Hantz' nephew has made his way into the game. Contestant Brandon carries with him a big bulls-eye by virtue of his sinister uncle. He's so nervous about this connection to the biggest Survivor villain ever that he refuses to let anyone know about it. He even goes swimming with his shirt up over his neck and back where "Hantz" tattoos are visible.  Whatever. At this point I'm not sure what to make of this.

Second, Ozzy turns out to be all brawn and no brain. Apparently he's here to play strategically and not just own immunity challenges. Well, in that sense he's not off to the greatest start--basically he gets John the Harvard law student to question everything he's ever known about himself because he offers his (John's) name for elimination 'cause he (Ozzy) wants Semhar to stick around--he thinks she's pretty.  So he starts drumming up all these unfounded doubts about John's viability just so the girl he's in love with will stick around. To his credit he, along with the rest of the tribe, vote Semhar in the end. But why the trip down anxiety lane for John? Pointless.

Plus, Coach turns the tables in one of the biggest surprises so far. Working from a very natural place, he forms an alliance with four other Upolo tribe members and leads the team to an immunity challenge victory. And the organic nature of everything is what is so shocking. For as you know, Coach has historically been the least natural person on the planet. His social skills were, you could (should) say, lacking.

Well this time, he's stepping up his game. Can he keep it up? Time will tell. Until then, buckle the proverbial seat belt for yet another installment of the best reality TV show on planet earth.

"It could have been worse [guys]...ALOT worse."

For no reason in particular, Nat and I recorded Jurassic Park after it ran several times on AMC. And, with Natalie passed out by about the time they feed the raptors with that unfortunate cow about a half hour in, I watched every. single. minute of the 1993 Steven Spielberg classic.

I remember this being one of my familiy's "movies," the ones you and your siblings watch over and over and memorize entire sequences and quote all of the time. Eighteen years later, I was nostalgic to watch it, but also anxious to see how it held up in the face of such massive leaps in special effects technology.

Does it hold up? Well, afterwards I arrived at a sort of meaningless mixed verdict of it does and/but it also doesn't.

With the glaring exception of the brachiosaurus scenes (particularly when Grant, Tim, and Lex are in the tree feeding it, and the whole scene has this sort of "Never Ending Story" with giant puppets quality to it), the dinosaurs actually look remarkably realistic. Word was that the combination of the tropical storm hitting the park and Dennis Nedry's little puppet show actually made for a frustrating T-Rex scene for Spielberg and co.-- the rain kept making the robotic dino glitch. If you're looking for it you notice, but it's not so bad you reinstate your disbelief.

What seems more unbelievable, actually, is the dialogue between the characters. Movie scripts of this era seem to have this unabashed on-the-nose quality, almost like they were originally written (in some spots) to be middle school plays. It is very obvious when we're supposed to laugh, when we're supposed to be in awe, etc. (Other examples include "A Few Good Men" and the entire first 3 seasons of "Frasier." Yes, I have watched both of these examples, since you asked.)

In "Jurassic Park," examples of this obviousness abound. How about when Grant and Sadler see the dinosaurs for the first time, and Hammond takes the opportunity to say, "Dr. Grant...my dear Dr. Sadler, welcome. to Jurassic Park..." ?

Or, for example, when Hammond is griping about how upsetting the initial tour went (2 dinosaurs weren't even visible from the cars, 1 was sick, and a tropical storm cut it short), and Samuel L. Jackson looks at him gravely/knowingly and says "It could have been worse, John...ALOT worse." Is that enough foreshadowing for you? And really, it's an odd thing to say because unless Sammy L. knew beforehand that Dennis Nedry was going rogue for a rival research firm and in order to do so was planning on shutting down the power to the park, releasing the dinosaurs to wreak havoc on everybody, then (really) the tour was actually going as badly as could be (at that point) imagined.

If you were going for maximum dramatic effect, when would the hiding raptor in the power compound pop out at Dr. Sadler? Would it be while she's walking through the compound in the dark, or while she's flipping on the circuit breakers? Or would you have the raptor reveal itself/its intentions of eating Dr. Sadler the exact instant after she's switched on all the power and has just said to Hammond via walkie-talkie: "Mr. Hammond, I think we're back in business!" Apparently the scientists at JP genetically engineered the dinosaurs with an acute sense of timing.

In a way, though, the dialogue is endearing. Like it's the perfect companion to such an outlandish, larger than life plot. And at least the acting is first rate, with career performances from Sam Neil, Richard Attenborough, and Jeff Goldblum. Rewatchability remains through the roof.

With so many older movies looking dated, and Jurassic Park closing in on two decades, honestly it could look worse...ALOT worse.

Ode to the I/O Forehand

Sport is full of beautiful "things." Karl Malone's high screen for teammate John Stockton, and then his subsequent roll to the basket was a beautiful thing. The 5-4-3 double play (where the grounder is fielded by the third basemen before being wheeled to second, then slung to first) is a beautiful thing. And a touchdown pass up the seam on 3rd and 17 is a beautiful thing.

Tennis, like all other sports, is full of such beautiful things, none more aesthetically striking than the inside-out forehand.

A forehand is considered inside-out whenever it's struck from a player's backhand half of the court (ad if the player is a righty) and travels across the court to the opposing player's ad side.  So basically (if you're having trouble wrapping your mind around it), the person hitting an I/O forehand SHOULD have hit a backhand, but "ran around" the shot to hit it with his forehand (since most players get more stick (a.k.a. oomph) on their forehand shot than their backhand), and angled it steeply back to the opposite side of the court.

In order to get away with this, you've got to really pull the trigger, because running around the shot means you've moved so far off the court that anything coming back will be (most likely) for a wide open winner.

Roger Federer hits the most eviscerating I/O forehand in the history of tennis. See for yourself. My favorite part of this video is the awe that soaks all of the color commentary. E.g. at the 1:50 mark Fed plays a point against Marat Safin and, after a sizeable rally Safin makes the irreversible mistake of clipping the net, giving Roger a short ball to run around. The whole world knows what's coming--and so the commentator says (with 100% confidence, and more to himself than anyone at home, really) "see ya." It's phenomenal. Immediately afterwards is an apt tweety bird comparison.

Or how about at 2:59? When Federer (obviously zoning) runs around James Blake's SERVE (!) and murders it inside-out? It catches the commentator seriously off guard: "Oh look out!"

Videos like these are a lot of fun, especially watching the younger Fed in his prime, playing with a style that left the rest of the tennis world in absolute can't-find-the-words-shock. 

Is This Post Relevant to You?

Summer is not the best time for television. How do I know this? Well, Natalie and I have started watching, following, and anxiously anticipating every new episode of Master Chef. We cling to it like a shipwrecked sailor on a piece of drift wood. And actually (and this could be the lack of other programming/any other sport but baseball speaking) it's not half bad. I'd recap each episode if I was any good at maintaining a blog. But that's not what this post is about.

We still don't have a TV, and watch this, the most prestigious of all reality TV amateur cooking shows, on the internet. I'm sure many of you watch shows on sites like Hulu, Fancast, etc. And maybe you've also noticed the same thing that is starting to quite literally drive me half-way crazy during each of the advertisements you're forced to watch during the show.

It's in the upper right hand corner of the screen: A quick question and some buttons. "Is this ad relevant to you?" then "Yes" or "No."

What's even more striking about my dilemma regarding this question is how it started out in completely the opposite way. Let me explain.

You see, I first viewed the sponser placing this question as their ultimate blunder, resulting in their own demoralizing defeat. No! This ad is not relevant to me, thank you. I shall tell you as much and I will never have to put up with your attempts to get me to purchase your product. (Commercials have always been the whole drag associated with watching TV, am I right? I mean, that's why we all did the collective Macarena when Tivo was invented, yes?)

I still haven't been able to click that "No" button. Not once. I may never. It's driving me crazy. For example, an ad for a new Nissan sedan appears. I begin watching. Is this ad relevant to me? Well, in some ways I guess. I'm an adult with a drivers license. I depend on our car to get me to work everyday, to provide for our family.  I certainly don't think I'll be driving our Hyundai Elantra for eternity. In several ways this ad is very relevant to me.

Or how about anti-aging cream? My first thought is no, not relevant. But don't I deal with the same internal struggles associated with getting older? Can I not relate, in any way, to the desire to retain youthfulness and distract myself from the fact that life (partly) is a process of constant decay?

Relevance relevance and so on. 

And now, finding myself unable to view any ad as irrelevant, I begin questioning my entire (false?) perception of advertising in general. How can I be delighted to skip past things that are so seemingly relevant to me and my participation in the human experience? And simply saying, for instance, that since I don't want to buy a car at this very moment, this ad is not relevant comes across as very shortsighted.  Oh sure, I could say "skip past this M&Ms commerical, I'm not hungry for candy right now," but does that mean I might never be in the mood for sweets generally/M&Ms specifically? Of course not. As a human being with discretionary income, which sometimes is spent on food, not infrequently of the junk variety, Mars Candy informing me of their new pretzel M&Ms is particularly relevant, let's say. And if I back out of watching M&Ms ads am I somehow diminishing those employees of Mars Candy, who's livelihood and ability (in some part) to engage in the sort of consumer-based human experiences I'm finding are relevant, depends on whether or not I go out, convinced by their ads, to purchase their candy? What a freaking mess.

It's gotten to the point where I've come to the conclusion (through a logic chain so dense and questionable that I don't dare repeat it here) that advertisers have concocted the perfect question--one that has single handedly captured my still very begrudging attention to their attempts to get my money. I'm certainly not happy about it. But at this point I'm cornered. 

You win this round advertising.