No Country For Old Men

by Craig Hickman


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I know that Lleyton Hewitt, a man who bears the weight of a nation on his shoulders every time he steps into Rod Laver Arena, and David Nalbandian, a man whose body has betrayed his gifts more times than the sport ever needed, are not old, actually.

But by the end of their intense, though sometimes devoid of energy, first-round battle under the lights at Laver Arena last night, the 29-year-olds looked decrepit. Once the match entered overtime at 6-6 in the fifth, after Hewitt failed to hold his fourth-set lead to close out the affair in four; failed to convert 4 break points that would've allowed him to serve for 5-1; after Nalbandian failed to serve out the set at 5-3 taking it instead in a lopsided breaker; failed to serve for the match at 5-4 in the fifth; one thing became clear: whoever prevailed wouldn't live to fight past the third round.

Age isn't really the factor. After all, it was just day before yesterday that world No. 2 and defending champion Roger Federer looked as lithe as a prepubescent school boy. His post-match interview in ESPN's studio revealed an animated, almost agitated demeanor I've never seen from the great champion. Never. It was as though he'd just ingested a pound of sugar, ready to play his second round match right then, right there.

But I digress.

The man who bears the weight of a nation of his shoulders and the man whose body has betrayed him too many times have both had hip surgery at least once. Remember how we lost the great Gustavo Kuerten to such deterioration? It was a long and painful departure from the sport and both of last night's warriors, no matter what they might say, are clearly on their last legs.

They both know it.

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Which is why most of the tennis late in the match, despite the costly coming-in-patches mental lapses, displayed some of the biggest gonads you'll ever see from both sides of the net. Angles. The match was all about angles. Nalbandian and Hewitt can create them out of almost nothing, especially with their backhands, but it was the serve and return angles that predicted the perfection of a point. I can't describe it any further. Perhaps a highlight video will emerge to show you exactly what I'm talking about.

When Nalbandian, who had saved two match points at 5-6 in the fifth, one with a ballsy serve and drop volley, hit the final topspin lob winner that shattered the hopes of a nation, a family, and their aging son, 9-7 in the fifth, no less, we knew we had witnessed a classic.


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