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Of talent and temperament: Nick Kyrgios and Tim Tebow

In his new book, “Shaken” (Waterbrook, 213 pages, $25), Tim Tebow considers the failure of his NFL career after his successful run with the Denver Broncos. He’s now trying to make it as a baseball player with the Arizona Fall League, where, once again, he’s been hailed for his good work ethic, leadership skills and clutch play but is still struggling to master the outfield. NFL legend and ESPN analyst Steve Young is among those pulling for him. But many who admire Tebow say he simply doesn’t have pro-quality aptitude.

He has, in other words, the temperament but not the talent. ...

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Nick Kyrgios and the mystery of temperament

So The New York Times Magazine’s US Open Special is basically a cover story on bad boy du jour Nick Kyrgios, pictured biting on the cross he wears around his neck and, oh, you can imagine the posts in response – not just about the cross but on Nick in general. 

But the cross is an interesting metaphor here. Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul?” (Matthew 16: 24-36)

What indeed. ...

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Hillary Clinton – backward and in heels

From the moment I became aware of Hillary Clinton when her husband, Bill, ran for the presidency, I thought she would someday be the first woman president of the United States. The superbly orchestrated Democratic National Convention did nothing to change that perception.

She is not, and never will be, the seductive speaker her husband is. Nor will she ever strike the delicate balance between the intellectual and the visceral that President Barack Obama has achieved, inspiring us not only to hope but to continue striving. She lacks, by her own admission, the temperament for that, being more comfortable, as she said, with the “service” part of “public service” than the “public” portion. Indeed, her naturally secretive nature, at the heart of the overblown email scandal, is no doubt exacerbated by her husband’s ability to feel everyone’s pain – particularly that of nubile women. ...

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Borg and McEnroe: a tennis love story

No, not that kind of love story. And certainly not the spicy, sensual goings-on of my new novel “Water Music.” But long before there was Fedal, Rafanole and Novandy, there was – well, they didn’t combine names in those days, did they? So there was Björn and Johnny Mac – a tennis rivalry and bromance set to the Stones and Sex Pistols, with a little ABBA thrown in for good measure.

I’ve been looking back on them in “Epic: John McEnroe, Björn Borg and the Greatest Tennis Season Ever” by Matthew Cronin (John Wiley & Sons Inc., 2011). It’s part history lesson, part psychological study. As a history lesson, it is, as Mac himself might say, “the pits.” I never trust a title, nor use phrases, that proclaim such-and-such the greatest ever, because you know what? Time ain’t over.

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When love only means zero

You have to feel for Caroline Wozniacki and not just because she lost in the first round of the French Open, although that’s certainly tough.

But she no doubt lost, because she was dumped recently by her fiancé Rory McElroy – over the phone no less, he having gone on to win some important golf tournament. (I know: The phrase “important golf tournament” is certainly oxymoronic.)

The axiom is that when the going gets tough, the tough transcend, and that has certainly always been my attitude. When faced with any crisis, tragedy or disappointment, I always redouble my efforts professionally, as have many athletes ranging from McElroy to tennis great Martina Navratilova. Indeed, the idea of the team “winning one for the Gipper” and Pagliacci laughing on the outside for an audience even as he cries on the inside are such time-worn traditions in our culture that they’ve become clichés.

But there are times when the heart can’t transcend, because it’s so heavy or so broken. I remember when Nole got trounced by Rafa in the finals in Monte Carlo after learning that his grandfather had died.

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Rod Laver – the GOAT?

The return of the Rod Laver Adidas tennis shoe – which has been described as a sneaker for grown men who are nonetheless not yet willing to go gently into that good night – got me thinking about the answer to an oft-asked question: Who is the greatest tennis player you ever saw?

The answer to that is simply “Rod Laver.” Look, Roger Federer fans, he will never be the answer to that question for this Nadalista, just as I am congenitally incapable of rooting for the Red Sox as a Yankee fan.

But in any event, it’s not a horse race between Feddy Bear and Rafa, because there was Rod Laver. What made Laver so great? Well, for one thing, he was a lefty, and a lefty serve is, I think, more difficult to read. Certainly, Bjorn Borg, who spent all those years bedeviling and being bedeviled by Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe, thought so. And certainly it’s the reason Novak Djokovic is always looking to practice with a southpaw the day before he has to face Rafael Nadal (who plays lefty but is really a righty in southpaw clothing).

The righty-lefty thing is something I touch on in my new novel “Water Music,” in which Alí Iskandar is a prodigious southpaw tennis player – which gives right-handed rival, friend and lover Alex Vyranos fits.

But back to Laver, whose racket I proudly owned as a child...

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