Twilight of the Idols

For the past two decades men's professional tennis has been dominated by the Big Three—though I should say the sport "had been" dominated. The rivalry between Nadal, Federer, and Djokovic, three athletes similar in talent but wildly different in style and temperament, had been an unavoidable centerpoint of tennis conversation. Who would end up with the most grans slam championships, which of the three was the greatest of all time, when would a new generation assert itself? Contenders would occasionally surface to nab an individual Grand Slam title—Murray, Cilic, Thiem, Wawrinka. Then Roger or Joker or Rafa would return to form and reassert control.

The quarter-finals of this year's French Open will be the first in twenty years not to include at least one of the Big Three. For most of those years, Rafa Nadal not only appeared in the quarters, but won the tournament.  

This year Rafa bowed out in straight sets in the first round to Sasha Zverev. That would have been a shocking result a few years ago, but no surprise this year, considering the injuries Nadal has sustained recently. It was more of a shock when Djokovic withdrew from the tournament a few days later with a torn medial meniscus in his right knee.

The remaining field is uniformly top-notch. Medyedev has been ranked number one and holds several grand slam titles, while Zverev has been hovering on the brink of a breakthrough for years. The Scandinavians Rune and Ruud put on a good show, and two young upstarts, the Italian Sinner (upon Djokovic's exit now ranked number 1) and the Spaniard Alcaraz, have both exhibited tremendous resilience and shot-making élan.

It's likely that Djokovic will be back later this year, but Federer is fully retired and Nadal probably ought to throw in the towel soon. We're now at a position of looking back at the two decades of the Big Three with a degree a nostalgia as an unparalleled Golden Age of stellar tennis, as we launch tiresome arguments about which of the three was the greatest and whether the new generation will ever be able to measure up. 

Tennis is about beautiful shot-making, and also about grit and personality. There have always been "bad boys" and machine-like perfectionists, hot heads and cool operators. For myself, I was a fan of neither MacEnroe nor Bjorg, preferring Edberg or Agassis, though my old tennis buddy Steve Herrig would be shocked to hear me say so. I don't care much for Tsitsipas--maybe it's the hair--and Zverev always seems to have a petulant scowl on his face. Djokovic is disliked by many. Sinner hits remarkable shots without indulging in the histrionic ape-like shouts that have become so popular. I also find Medyedev's droll and quirky personality appealing. 

But we all have our favorites, I guess.