One of the perks of living in Dubai is there is always something interesting happen. It seems like every time I turn around, there is another big sporting event, expo, or concert going on. It’s amazing that I’ve been able to attend as many as I have but what is more impressive is the scale of the events Dubai hosts. Where most big cities have an unintentional hierarchy of events - small-time local bands playing concerts at seedy dive bars all the way up to the big-name artists selling out amphitheaters – Dubai only has the latter. Makes sense. Dubai is all about making money and the international stars are the ones who will do that for you. So, in true Dubai fashion, the local tennis scene skipped over all the amateur nonsense and went straight for the big leagues with the Dubai Duty Free Tennis Championship.
On a Wednesday after class, Ryan, Jasmine and I piled into a taxi and speed off with the utmost urgency for the stadium. We got there with time to spare, crucial, as the general admission seats were filling up fast. Not long after, Novak Djokovic and Feliciano Lopez were squaring off just a few yards away from our seats. Djokovic’s ranking as the world’s second best did not help him beat Lopez. The match went to full sets (which, for this tourney, was only three for some reason) and featured plenty of unforced errors. Despite this, it was some of the best tennis I’ve seen. I could cite stats and tell you about the advantages each player had over the other but in the end, I’d be at a loss for words to tell you about that elusive quality that makes a good match like this one exciting to watch. By the end of it, most everyone in the stadium was on the edge of their seats, periodically bursting forth with a yelp of joy or flopping back in their seat in agony. When Djokovic finally won the last set, six to four, I exhaled a sigh of relief I didn't realize I’d been holding. A performance like that will live in my memory longer than the match’s duration. The same cannot be said for Federer.
The next match of the evening was between Roger Federer and Marcel Granollers and was difficult to watch. The stadium’s announcer seemed to be conspiring with Federer in tearing down poor Marcel. The assault began before the match even started as the announcer introduced the two men on the court to the crowd. Starting with Granollers, the buttery voice announced his career accomplishments, including the sole professional title he’s won in some inconsequential tournament in Houston that holds the same amount of prestige as a backyard badminton match. Harsh assessment, you say. Well, it’s telling that the reigning King of Clay, Mr. Rafael Nadal, has never even bothered entering this particular clay-surface tournament. Nadal or no, Granollers laid claim to the title in 2008 and has surely been clutching it to his chest ever since.
Federer, on the other hand, has no such problems of inadequacy. Following Granoller’s piddling introduction, the announcer took a deep breath, and began holding forth on Federer’s illustrious career, including his 237 weeks as the world’s number one, 67 professional titles, 22 (ten consecutive) Grand Slam titles, $61 million in career winnings, and a sidenote… something about an Olympic gold medal. If Granollers wasn’t intimidated before, he was now.
I don’t think I need to describe the match. It ended predictably and we rose from our seats, happy with what we’d seen. Once again, Dubai brought us the best in the world, and we were not disappointed.
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