This was a fantastic biography of Roger Federer and a (RF-centric) portrayal of a golden age of tennis. While it isn’t written in elegiac fashion, it’s hard not to fill with nostalgia while progressing through it, realizing that its publication very likely marks the end of one of sports’ most storied careers. I also really enjoyed the tone of Clarey’s reporting - it treated Federer as a real human, without failing to acknowledge the many ways in which he is truly extraordinary as an athlete and individual. And, the quality of the access Clarey got - to Federer as well as to tons of peers and tennis legends (including Sampras, Agassi, Roddick and others) who really help to situate his greatness in context - really stands out. I’d highly recommend this book to any serious tennis fan, as well as any sports fans looking to better understand the story of an athlete who truly transcended his sport.
I took away two major points about Federer and his career:
1. While perceptions and coverage of his game often use words like ‘effortless’, Clarey goes to great lengths to demonstrate exactly how much effort has gone into building the superstar athlete that is RF - behind the polished ease lies a ton of grit
2. As transcendent as Federer’s career has been, it’s important to remember where it fell short: he only truly dominated the sport for a less than two year period from 2004-2005, and some of his most memorable moments have come in painful defeats, making it easy to ask how much more could he have accomplished if a few things broke differently (the stat around Grand Slam matches lost while holding match point was striking)
Clarey also makes the argument (which formed the lede in a NYT Magazine excerpt of the book) that Federer’s brilliance lies not just in his tennis but in his business acumen - as he will end his career as one of only a handful of athletes to earn over $1bn over a playing career. This is all the more remarkable considering that tennis is a niche sport with shrinking popularity (a point Clarey returns to often - including citing a statistic that tennis accounts for only $350mm of Nike’s $50bn annual profit); Federer as a Swiss had to achieve much more than an athlete from the US or a more prominent nation to earn a given sum in endorsements; and Federer’s early career featured some episodes of mis-representation (including a stretch when his dad negotiated his deals). I enjoyed the discussion of Federer’s split with Nike and his ability to rescue the RF brand (which he explains his attachment to by comparing RF merchandise to soccer jerseys - the only personalized gear in the sport) while also investing in On Running to build a shoe he loved. Anecdotes on Federer’s natural people skills and extrovert energy - including his skill at working a room of sponsors or charitable donors - were also very enjoyable.
Some other points that stuck with me from the book:
-) Federer’s upbringing, shaped by multiple influences growing up and in tennis: Swiss German and South African heritage, polyglot background (English as first language, forced to learn French in middle school), coached by Swede and Australian (both of whom enforced egalitarian streaks native to their cultures that kept his ego checked). Clarey often notes Federer’s struggles with the mental side of the game - citing emotional breakdowns after losses as teenager that continued throughout his early adult life - and his ability to overcome them (partly owning to use of a sports psychologist). Despite these struggles, Federer seems to have always loved the game - so different from many a tormented star (such as Agassi). Federer played multiple sports as a kid (something he’s now known to advocate) - eventually choosing tennis over soccer (as he preferred the ability to control his own destiny, and was influenced by a coach who wouldn’t play him in soccer matches if he missed practice for tennis). He was also extremely fortunate to avoid serious injuries for much of his career - owing in part to early adoption of a regimen under fitness training Paganini, who eschewed traditional workouts in favor of short burst training, and likely preserved his body. Federer’s real maturation as a young tour pro was forced by the untimely death of coach Peter Carter and the way he had to absorb it.
-) Tennis influences: Federer idolized Sampras, Edberg, and other attacking players known for their movement. But he encountered similar difficulties - often being dismissed as not trying hard enough when unsuccessful. Yet the differences of style with Sampras are also important - I enjoyed the anecdote involving Sampras’s puzzlement that Federer beat him at Wimbledon with serve/volley then won multiple titles there with baseline play. As Federer explained to him, the game changed after Sampras - due to changing equipment and styles of play, leading to players volleying less, and playing different styles of attacking tennis, (serve and power forehand instead of serve and volley)
-) Nothing at the time was inevitable about his rise - he played several majors without advancing past a QF, when peers started to win quicker. Early rivalries with Hewitt (who started to win sooner but burnt out), and Safin (could have been a great rival) illustrate this evolution.
-) His era of pure dominance was briefer than it seems in retrospect - really just encompassing 2004 and the start of 2005, before the rise of Rafa. This humanized Federer - he never won too much in too dominant a way before facing an arch-rival.
-) Rafa/Fed rivalry - different from Fed/Sampras because Rafa was only a few years younger and hadn’t idolized Fed, nor was Fed the unquestioned future #1 during Rafa’s childhood. Lots of commonalities leading to mutual respect and a form of friendship - strong families, education by coaches with shortcomings as players, egalitarian streaks in coaching/upbringing, innovative fitness regimens, choosing tennis over soccer in similar fashion, respect for history of game. Clarey emphasizes Nadal’s love of process - not about kill but love of hunt; putting Fed on pedestal even while moving toward surpassing him (09 Aus).
-) Djokovic/Fed rivalry feels a lot less meaningful - and the same form of mutual respect that Fed and Rafa held never developed in this case. Instead we encounter a lot of frustration with Djokovic and his often reckless style of play (2011 US Open semi)
-) Great emphasis on Federer’s love of clay (the surface he grew up on in Basel) - and understanding of importance of winning French Open to his legacy. It made him genuinely different from other attacking players who had failed on clay. It was bad luck that he didn’t win more RG titles given for a ~5 year stretch he was the 2nd best clay player in the world, and would likely have won multiple titles if it weren’t for Nadal; and e never quite hit his stride on clay until after the rise of Rafa. I loved the account of the 09 French Open and what it meant to RF.
-) The chapter on RF’s relationship with Mirka and his family life was beautiful. I appreciated Clarey’s insights on just how unique RF’s family life was for a superstar athlete, and how much it supported him and made him stronger. Mirka comes off as a rock of a partner, who supported Roger through many tense moments and understood him in a way most tennis spouses never could. It’s also remarkable how long RF played tennis at a high level as a family man (compared to many of his peers), and did so by staying close to his family, taking them on the road and having them around all the time during tournaments
-) Federer’s renaissance in 2017-2018: it’s easy to forget how long a gap it was between 2012 and 2017, and how unlikely RF’s resurgence in 2017 really was. He and Nadal went from rivals dominating the sport, to aging stars trying to keep up with a growing pack (led by Djokovic and Murray). In 2017 the rivals slipped up - as Djokovic imploded (injuries and marital strife) while Murray’s injury trouble began right after reaching his peak - and RF was ready to capitalize. He also did so by reinventing parts of his game - improving his backhand, adding the SABRs, and generally playing increasingly attacking tennis to compensate for his reduced ability to move and sustain long rallies.
-) The accounts of some of the most epic matches (08 Wimbledon, 09 Wimbledon, 17 Australian, 19 Wimbledon) were tensely narrated and poignant (and for a Federer fan many were painful to relive). But I also appreciated that they were situated into the narrative without the entire book hinging on those moments. Rather than being the entire narrative, they serve as punctuation marks in the midst of a flowing and longer epic narrative.