When I was a child, one of my favorite books was Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities,” set against the backdrop of revolutionary Paris and its archrival, London.
It’s a story about many different kinds of rivals and doubles, chiefly Charles Darnay, who’s noble in every sense of the word but finds himself paying for the aristocratic sins of his family, and Sydney Carton, the ne’er-do-well English barrister who nonetheless is capable of great courage and love.
Both men are in love with Lucie Manette, the daughter of a doctor whose mind has been ravaged by his imprisonment in Paris. Darnay wins her but Carton, who could be his twin, remains devoted. And when Darnay is unjustly imprisoned by revolutionaries and condemned to the guillotine, Carton hits on a plan to change places with him. But first he undergoes some soul-searching, wandering the streets of Paris. He takes comfort in the biblical words he once heard at a funeral:
“I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live. And whoever so liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
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Read MoreThe unsurprising un-retirement of Michael Phelps – who’ll compete April 24-26 at the Arena Grand Prix in Mesa, Ariz. – has set off a spate of he-was-too-young-and-too-passionate-about-swimming-to-retire-anyway columns.
“If Roger Federer can play on quite respectably at age 32, why can’t Phelps head to a fifth Olympics at age 31 and try to add a medal or two (or more) to his uniquely large collection of 22, including 18 gold?” Christopher Clarey wrote in his “Why Not?” column.
Surely, Ryan Lochte – Phelps’ great friend and rival – isn’t throwing in the towel, even though he’ll be 32 in 2016. But why not compete? Why not do what you love as long as you want to do it? (That’s what Daniel Reiner-Kahn, one of the swimmers at the heart of my new novel “Water Music,” thinks when his father wonders what he’s going to be doing with the rest of his life. As far as Daniel is concerned, he has a career. He swims.)
I suspect , however, that the columnists are not just talking about Phelps or Federer. Athletes have always been poignant metaphors for ourselves.
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Read MoreThe 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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Read MoreNovak Djokovic’s recent victory over Rafael Nadal at the Sony Open, their 40th meeting, sparked the latest round of columns and posts that asked the title question.
Squarely in the Fedal camp is Douglas Perry. His basic thesis is that Rafanole is too much of a good thing, too much of the same thing from the baseline. Whereas Fedal came first, Fedal offers more of a contrast, Feddy Bear’s game is beautiful, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Still, Perry implies, Rafanole may one day rise to the occasion, because – get this – while Rafa’s and Nole’s groundstrokes are predictable, their minds are fragile, particularly Nole’s, and thus unpredictable.
Talk about a backhanded compliment.
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Read MoreHe’s ba-ack.
Did you seriously think he’d be going away?
It looks more and more like Michael Phelps plans on swimming at the 2016 Olympics in Rio de Janiero.
Training five times a week – check. Jumping into the drug-testing pool – check. Eyeing a swim at Irvine, Calif., site of the summer U.S. championships – check. Longtime Coach Bob Bowman noting that he’s looking good – check, check and check.
Look, no sooner had Michael announced his retirement at the London Games than Ryan Lochte was saying we hadn’t seen the last of him. And Ryan would know. They’re not merely rivals. They’re very close friends.
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Read MoreAfter his 6-3, 6-3, 83-minute drubbing by Novak Djokovic in the March 30 Sony Open final in Key Biscayne, Fla., Rafael Nadal was asked a perfectly existential question: Is he glad Nole exists?
“No,” he said. Laughter all around. That Rafa, what a kidder. Then he added, “I like challenges, but I am not stupid.”
Nole had a Descartian “I play Roger Federer and Rafa, therefore I am” answer to the same question:
“I think challenges, big challenges that I had in my career changed me in a positive way as a player. Because of Rafa and because of Roger, I am what I am today in a way.”
Welcome to Rafanole XL as the media dubbed their 40th encounter, the most in the Open era. Oh, Rafa and Nole, you’ve finally been accorded NFL-Super Bowl Roman numeral status. Can your own John Madden fantasy league be far behind?
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Read MoreJust when I thought I was out, they pull me back in – to borrow from Michael Corleone.
Just when I thought I could take a night off from blogging about men’s tennis, there’s big news:
Andy and Ivan the Terrible are splitsville.
Yes, Andy Murray and his coach, Ivan Lendl, have announced an amicable breakup. It says a lot about tennis – a sport in which “love” means nothing – that players and coaches announce their breakups as if they were married. No Lendl fan here – you can’t be a McEnroe fan and root for the dour, robotic Ivan – but give the guy credit. He was the Annie Sullivan to Andy’s Helen Keller. And by that I mean he did what great teachers/coaches do. He helped Andy unlock himself and cross the threshold.
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