Tebbutt: Raonic knows the way in San Jose

It’s hard to keep the faith playing against Milos Raonic – especially indoors – because pretty well half the games are ‘gimmes’ for the big server from Thornhill, Ont.

That was really obvious in his semi-final (Ryan Harrison) and final (Dennis Istomin) victories on the way to defending his SAP Open title in San Jose on the weekend.

In both matches, Raonic won the first set in a tiebreak and then rolled 6-2 in the second. You sensed that both Harrison and Istomin were hoping for a semi-miracle in the tiebreak and, when it didn’t happen, they were almost resigned to the inevitable in the second set.

Raonic, who held serve 31 of 32 times [only losing it to Tobias Kamke in a 6-2, 7-6(7) victory in his first match], actually seemed to be the superior, more consistent player in the baseline rallies in his four matches. In a conference call on Monday, he cited that as the key to his second ATP title of 2012.

“I took care of my serve quite easily,” he said. “I was serving really well. What really put pressure on my opponents was that I was hitting well from the baseline. So even if they were able to return my serve – unless they hit a really good return – I felt like I was always taking control of the points. And I really wasn’t making too many unforced errors. I was playing pretty clean throughout. It helped me because I was returning pretty well and was able eventually to put together a few points on the return and get a few breaks. It’s de-motivating for my opponents, especially with how well I was serving.”

Raonic is still dealing with some discomfort because of the patellar tendonitis below his left knee but said that he is getting it under control with painkillers/anti-inflams and strengthening exercises.

His ranking actually dropped from No. 32 to No. 35 after winning because San Jose and Memphis were a week earlier last year. So, though he added 250 points for winning San Jose, an ATP 250 event, he dropped the 300 points he got in 2011 for being runner-up to Andy Roddick in a memorable final at the ATP 500 tournament in Memphis.

He’s in Memphis this week with a chance to replace those points and starts out on Wednesday evening against the ever-enigmatic Ernests Gulbis. The silver-spoon-in-his-mouth Latvian has won a grand total of one match (against Lukasz Kubot in Tokyo) in seven ATP tournaments since the 2011 US Open. If you deduct the 250 points he earned for winning the Los Angeles ATP event last July, his ranking would be about No. 126.

But Gulbis, born within a month of fellow 23-year-olds Juan Martin del Potro and Marin Cilic, is a sick striker of the ball and always a threat. Raonic beat him in their only previous meeting – 6-4, 7-5 in the second round of Monte Carlo last April. I recall that Gulbis got all upset in the first set of that match when a double bounce was called during a point that he really had no chance to win anyway.

Should the third-seeded Raonic get past Gulbis and at least reach the final, his ranking will likely go inside his previous high of No. 25. Should he win the event, possibly facing top seed John Isner in the final, he should reach the top 20.

A REASSURING ROGER

Roger Federer is in that phase of his career when his most ardent fans are starting to have withdrawal pains anticipating the end of arguably the most glorious career in tennis history.

At age 30, he has now gone two complete cycles of Grand Slam events (since the 2010 Aussie Open) without a title. It is clear that he has, at the very best, reached a plateau, at the worst is in something close to free-fall decline.

The prophets-of-doom believers in the latter were out in full force after he lost both his singles (to John Isner) and his doubles when Switzerland was beaten 3-0 by the United States in Davis Cup two weeks ago. It seemed impossible that in his first Davis Cup opening round since 2004, and playing at home in Fribourg, he could lose.

But the tie was staged at 600 metres altitude on clay and Isner played great and Federer obviously felt the pressure – especially after his compatriot Stanislas Wawrinka lost the first singles match 9-7 in the fifth set to Mardy Fish. The doubles loss was not really a surprise. Wawrinka has been struggling and Mike Bryan and Fish are excellent doubles players.

So the disappointment of Davis Cup seemed a bad omen for St. Roger and his faithful followers but he changed all that by winning the ATP event in Rotterdam on Sunday with a resounding 6-1, 6-4 victory over Juan Martin del Potro in the final.

The 71st title of his career, which gives him at least one in each of the last 12 years, does not mean he is about to reclaim the No. 1 ranking. But it certainly serves to rebut the naysayers for a while.

My current favourite Federer stat is that he has now won 72 matches in a row against players ranked higher than No. 20, stretching back to a loss to Lleyton Hewitt in the Halle grass-court final in June, 2010.

For comparison’s sake – world No. 1 Novak Djokovic has a modest five-match winning streak (and one of 37 matches before that) against players outside the top 20, No. 2 Rafael Nadal’s is seven and No. 4 Andy Murray’s is 28.

Federer will next put that streak on the line at the ATP 500 tournament in Dubai next week.

VINTAGE OZ

I was able to find some Australian post cards, featuring pre-1950 images, while I was in Sydney on my way home from the Australian Open. The one above is my favourite, and will be appreciated by anyone who has ever had a cool Fosters on a warm day.

TRENT FRAYNE

Widely-respected and admired Canadian sports journalist Trent Frayne died on Saturday, February 11. Frayne, 93, covered everything from heavy-weight championship fights to the Masters golf tournament, from the World Series to Wimbledon. I recall him spelling grass “grawse” (as the English pronounce it) one year during the entire event in his coverage in the Globe and Mail.

He was part of a legendary group of English Canadian sports writers that included Jim Coleman, Scott Young (Neil’s father) and Milt Dunnell.

His prose seemed effortless and he had the gift of always infusing a nice dose of humour.

Here’s an example from his wryly-named Tales of an Athletic Supporter published in 1990.

In the epilogue, he mentioned the only two times he broke the unwritten rule of “no cheering in the press box.”

Frayne wrote:

“I can recall hearing myself cheer only twice and both times I was surprised to recognize my own voice. Until then, it had not occurred to me that I was fervent nationalist.

The first occasion was in 1964 when Northern Dancer won the Kentucky Derby. I got to Louisville a couple of days before the race and heard endless speculation on the abilities of the two favourites, the Dancer and the California champion, Hill Rise, which always ended in favour of Hill Rise. The bluegrass bluebloods couldn’t countenance the notion of a Canadian-bred colt winning their cherished Run for the Roses. He might as well have been a yak from darkest Tibet.

So when this full-chested little middleweight was fighting off the heavyweight champ from Lotusland in the duel down the long stretch at Churchill Downs I became aware that someone was screaming over and over in my ear, “He’s going to make it. He’s going to make it. He’s going to make it!”

And when he did, when he charged under the wire a neck in front, I sat back down and finally shut up.

The only other time I recall yelling at a sports event was eight years later in Moscow when Paul Henderson put the puck behind the accomplished Soviet goaltender, Vladislav Tretiak.

Remember? The series was knotted at three wins apiece and one tie when in the decisive eighth game the Russians vaulted ahead by 5-3 with two goals late in the second period. I sat watching in dismay beside Jim Coleman on one of the long polished benches that served as seating in the big arena in the Luzhnicki sports complex.

When the period ended we climbed down to the crowded smoky lobby under the seats and joined a few other newspaper guys, Red Fisher and Ted Blackman from Montreal, Jim Taylor from Vancouver, Fran Rosa from Boston, maybe a couple of others. After nearly eight games, we were finally prepared to accept the evidence that the Soviet speed and conditioning were obstacles too large for the Canadians to handle.

“I just hope it isn’t a blowout,” I said to Taylor. He nodded grimly. We were a gloomy bunch.

And then there was the astounding comeback. Phil Esposito scored. Yvan Cournoyer scored. And finally, with 34 seconds left, there was Paul Henderson and his stunning goal.

Four thousand Canadians in one end and corner of the arena went berserk. “Take that, you sons of bitches!” a guy was screaming in my ear. Yep, me filled with enthusiasm.

That was a long time ago.”

In February, 1985, there was an ATP tournament played at Varsity Arena in Toronto. Frayne wrote a typically insightful and amusing piece about Ramesh Krishnan, an Indian player who had a unique and often effective gamestyle.

By the way, Frayne was a keen tennis player himself.

Here’s that column from the Globe and Mail on Wednesday, February 20, 1985.

Game's big servers a bore

Old smoothie fun to watch

TRENT FRAYNE

Tennis is a game of gigantic serves but Ramesh Krishnan has none. Well, hardly any. It is a game of sleek-muscled fine-honed acrobats leaping and diving but Ramesh Krishnan is a tubby little fellow who waddles. Well, he moseys. Tennis players don't have to be six feet high, as J. McEnroe is, but it helps. Ramesh Krishnan is 5-foot-7.

Watching Ramesh Krishnan play tennis is like watching the Old Smoothies skate. He is smooth and fluid, bringing a welcome freshness to the Molson Light tournament currently sharing honors with a new paint job at Toronto's cosy Varsity Arena. This is where the U of T Blues play hockey for big crowds and the Toronto Tornados play pro basketball for their relatives. It is also where roughly nine million gallons of red paint and a can or two of blue have gussied up the interior over the winter. Matches are awaft on Sherwin-Williams.

Ramesh brings a sense of grace to a game in which the big serve has become overly dominant. He is a spectator's player. He has a forehand and a backhand and a deft touch. He gets involved in rallies with his opponents. This makes him virtually unique in the men's game.

Crashing serves threaten to make men's singles a crashing bore. Where are the exchanges? Do these guys have any other shots but serves? Had everything become serve-and-volley? John Sadri made 99 unforced errors, give or take a handful, in his match with Martin Wostenholme the other night, but the big serve kept bailing him out. He was never broken. He must have served 99 clean aces. The lists are full of big servers, whooshing bullets.

They stand at the service line collecting their concentration, bouncing a ball slowly, once, twice, half a dozen times, swaying with the rhythm of the bounce. Finally the ball goes up and the racquet comes through in an explosive unwinding of arms and legs, and the ball rockets across the net, usually handcuffing the helpless wretch across the way. After waving at four or five cannonballs, it's the helpless wretch's turn to overwhelm the other guy, and it goes on like this, bor-r-ing.

Into this maelstrom steps Ramesh Krishnan, restoring sanity. He doesn't require a trance to get started at the service line. He toes the line, throws the ball up, and hits it. When his opponent knocks one back Ramesh strokes the ball with wondrous nonchalance, forehand or backhand, going to the net if he's sent the other man deep, stroking another lovely ground stroke if he hasn't. What he has is style and technique, even an understated flair. If he wins the point, fine. If he loses it, fine. He serves the next one. He plays the game the way Ken Rosewall played it, an artist at work.

His father, Ramanathan (Ram) Krishnan, is Rosewall's contemporary and is the best tennis player India ever produced. In 1960 and again in 1961 he reached the semi-final at Wimbledon, losing to Neale Fraser and Rod Laver. He won India's national title eight times. He was a beautiful touch player, and so is his son. "Young Ram looks just like his dad," Don Fontana, the old Canadian Davis Cupper, remarked the other day. "He plays like him, too. I played his dad a couple of times, once in New Delhi in the Indian Open. They make the game look easy but they're both deceptively strong- willed." This was while the stubby fellow, in his unruffled way, was surviving a ticklish situation with Jamaica-born, Toronto-based Doug Burke. Burke led 5-3 in the third set, but the prospect of upsetting the tournament's No. 6 seed, plus Krishnan's calm forcefulness on the key points, unhinged the transplanted Canadian.

Off the court, Ramesh is a smiling fellow, dark-featured and affable. His tennis-playing father had him on a court early. How long ago? "Oh," he laughs, white teeth flashing, "as long as I can remember." He is only 23 but he is no mysterious newcomer. Away back in 1975 when he was a sprout of 14 he was ranked on the ATP computer - 373rd. Last year, his 10th on the circuit, he was 24th. He won the junior title in 1979 at both Wimbledon and the French Open, reached the quarter-finals at the U.S. Open in 1981. Last November he beat the Swede, Mats Wilander, in reaching the semi-final at Tokyo and won the Grand Prix event at Metz, France. If he survives a few rounds here he'll not be the only winner. There'll be the fans.