So in the end, Michael Phelps didn’t make the final of the 50 free in the Arena Grand Prix in Mesa, Ariz. (He swam his patented butterfly stroke in the prelims. The rules allow you to swim any of the strokes in the free.) And Ryan Lochte bowed out of his final races. (He’s been nursing a knee injury and said he had pushed himself too hard in February.)
But having them back racing each other is certainly a boon for their sport despite the emergence of some young swimmers.
Read More
It’s as if one never said goodbye and the other was never injured.
Michael Phelps, on the comeback trail, aced his prelim heat in the 100 butterfly only to fall to archrival and good friend Ryan Lochte in the Arena Grand Prix final Thursday night.
"Down there at the turn I kind of peeked over and I saw him and almost started smiling," Lochte said later.
“Why?” Phelps countered, “because you were ahead?"
Is Phelpte a great rivalry or what?
Read More
Is it any surprise that the Arena Grand Prix – which takes place Thursday, April 24 through Saturday, April 26 in Mesa, Ariz. – is sold out? Michael Phelps is swimming in his first meet since the London Games in what looks like the beginning of the comeback trail and may face off with pal and rival Ryan Lochte in the 100 butterfly and 100 freestyle. Michael is also swimming in the 50 free while Ryan is entered in the 200 free, the 100 and 200 backstroke and the 200 individual medley.
There are a lot of other stars at the meet – including Nathan Adrian, Conor Dwyer and France’s Yannick Angel – but all eyes will be on Michael and, to a certain extent, the old rivalry.
For his part, Ryan has said he always knew Michael would be back.
Read More
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.”
Read More
Michael Phelps in 2010. Courtesy the Michael Phelps Foundation.
The 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.
Read More
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...
Read More
Roger Federer (far court) serves to Rafael Nadal during the 2008 Wimbledon final that some consider the greatest match ever.
Novak 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.
Read More
