The Tennis Marathon: 5th Set: Isner 70-Mahut 68

It ended on my birthday, June 24, 2010. As I began the count-down to closing in on my own sixties, so 23rd-seeded John Isner and qualifier Nicholas Mahut were deadlocked 68-68, in the 5th set of a marathon match so long that the game score looked like a typo.

Indeed, when my older son, Jason, called me from a meeting on the 22d to say, just turn on Wimbledon, I thought that 30-30 was the score in the game being played, and not the score in games! As a long-time tennis fan and player, the longest set I recall playing was either 12-10 or 11-9 and that seemed an eternity! As a spectator, I have always delighted in watching the Grand Slam matches ever since attending the (then amateur) U.S. National Championships at Forest Hills. With each passing year, I have marveled at the increased skill that the players bring to their games. While a great deal of this is attributed to racquet technology, there is no question that the overall skill level is much higher than years ago. If you doubt this, just take a look at some of the great matches from, say, thirty years ago. There was some great shot-making to be sure, but the pace almost looks like slow-motion. Watching, for example, the women's final in the French Open, Mmes. Stosur and Schiavonne were belting the ball at a pace that would have been worthy of a men's match not too long ago. (It would be interesting--just for fun-- to see today's players compete with wood racquets just to see what it looked like.)

Getting back to the Isner-Mahut match, one has to think back to some of the long matches from years ago to fully appreciate how extraordinary Isner-Mahut really was. One watershed event was the Wimbledon match in 1969 between the 41-year-old lion, Richard "Pancho" Gonzalez and Chuck Passerell. This, too, played out over more than one-day, with Pancho emerging the victor in a five-setter that seemed to test the endurance of both fans and players alike. It would have been easy for Gonzales to be discouraged after dropping the first set, 22-24. For sure, that would have been more than enough for me to throw in the towel. Certainly this discouragement seemed evident when he dropped the second set 1-6. Like Mahut, Pancho complained about the encroaching darkness. Somehow Gonzales was able to regroup, and won the third set 16-14. He evened it up with a 6-3 win in the fourth, and overcame a number of match points to win 11-9. This incredibly long match was all the impetus the then-new Open era needed to adopt (one of) Jimmy Van Allen's recommended scoring modifications. The 1970 U.S. Open introduced the tie-breaker (or "tie-break" as it is officially known), initially as a first to reach five points when a set was tied 8-8. Soon thereafter, it assumed its present role at 6-6, as a seven-point tie-breaker (provided you win by two-points). Now, the tie-breaker at 6-6 is universal, except in the deciding set at Grand Slams other than the U.S. Open, which retains the tie-breaker in all circumstances.

We have, of course, have had some memorable tie-breakers. Easily, the most famous of these was in the fourth set of the gentlemen's finals at Wimbledon between Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe. McEnroe won that showdown 18-16, the equivalent of five full games. Borg, however, went on to win the match in the decisive 5th set.

Just last year, Wimbledon provided high drama in the final match between Roger Federer and Andy Roddick. With the 5th set deadlocked at 6-all, the rules required that the winner win by two games. The two traded games until the sensational Federer finally outlasted the equally marvelous efforts of Roddick to win 16-14. Unlike the 18-16 tie-breaker (which was "only" points), that 5th set which gave Federer the all-time Grand-Slam edge over Pete Sampras, was a full thirty games--the equivalent of almost three (additional) close sets.

All these great endurance contests pale, now and (one can safely say) forever in the wake of the Isner-Mahut iron-man ultra-marathon. Played over three days, the two traded "normal" sets of 6-4 (Isner) and 6-3 (Mahut). They then warmed up by trading two tie-breakers, 6-7 (7) Mahut and 7-6 (3) Isner. Two days later, it was finally over, with Isner, after overcoming a 0-30 deficit at 68-all, reeled off four consecutive points to hold. I remembered thinking that Mahut would find it hard to overcome the love-thirty lead he had--apparently (and incredibly), the first time that set someone other than the server had won two consecutive points.

For those of you that saw the end of the match, Isner reeled off the last two points in remarkable fashion. On the next to last point, Mahut pinned Isner to the baseline, only to watch his 6-9 opponent hit an inside-out half-volley forehand winner down the line. The match point winner was a down-the-line backhand that Mahut could only watch sail past him.

One of the wonderful things about tennis--absent the tie-breaker--is that, like baseball, there is no time limit. The longest baseball game ever played was twenty-six innings, and that was nearly a century ago. Twenty inning games, while rare, do occur. The New York Mets won just such a game this season. Given the nine-inning standard, 26-innings is just under three-full games, a ridiculously long time to be playing baseball. Just to put the Isner-Mahut match in perspective (and figuring a normally long five-set match would be fifty games; i.e. 6-4, 4-6, 6-4, 4-6, 6-4, or 26 games to 24 ) their last set alone--at 138 games--was equal to thirteen 6-4 sets, plus a fourteenth deadlocked at 4-4. One can't even imagine a baseball game lasting eleven hours.

By the way, remember that Gonzales-Passerell match--you know--the one that brought on the tie-breaker? That match lasted 112 games, an enormous amount to be sure. When viewed against the 138 games it took to complete the Isner-Mahut fifth-set, it looks like a friendly game of Sunday doubles.

So tear up your record books fans, this one is here to stay. and what a birthday present for this aging tennis buff!

Israel and the Taliban: double standard?

I read today of the horrible loss of life in Afghanistan at a wedding celebration. Forty people were murdered, including men, women and children of all ages. This got me thinking about Israel's naval blockade of Gaza and what comparison, if any, may be made between the two acts.

There has been much written recently--and properly so--about the botched boarding of a vessel attempting to breach the naval blockade which Israel established three years ago to interdict the delivery of certain materials to Gaza. Unfortunately, this resulted in the loss of nine lives. What is not clear is the degree to which Israel overreacted to the resistance they faced in boarding and taking control of that vessel. What is clear is that the ships stopped were challenging the blockade in hopes of raising the international focus on the situation in Gaza in general, and the legitimacy of the blockade in particular. That they succeeded in the court of public opinion seems beyond debate. Lost in the debate, however, is what a naval blockade is, and what are the risks inherent in testing it. Running a naval blockade, after all, is not like marching on the Pentagon.

Countries around the world (including the United States) have differed only in the degree to which they are critical of the blockade and the recent loss of life. While lip service has been given to the importance of Israel's security interests in the general sense, few have viewed the naval blockade of Gaza as being a legitimate means of safeguarding those interests. Over the ensuing weeks, various forums will debate the degree to which (a) the blockade is a legitimate function of Israel's security interests (something unlikely to provoke the same degree of concern when practiced by other countries), (b) whether or not their deadly reaction to the testing of the blockade was provoked, and (c) if so, was their reaction proportionate. So far, public opinion seems to have determined that Israel was at fault on (a) and (c), with (b) while yet to be determined, something of far lower priority.

Needless to say, issues like this arise whenever a country, its army or police force act in ways that result in the loss of human life. As a young man in the 60's, I can recall how strategies (both non-violent and otherwise) were designed to test the reaction of the police powers of states. Truly, the cause of civil rights and the anti-Vietnam-war movement were furthered by such tests. But, as mentioned above, a naval blockade is not an appropriate "forum" for such a test.

Turning to the suicide bombing of the wedding in Afghanistan, we are faced with a very different set of circumstances. This, mind you, was not a battle, let alone a blockade: it was an attack. The reason for this carnage appears to be the groom's membership in an anti-Taliban militia. The perpetrator, while presently unknown, appears to have been acting at the behest of the Taliban. (If I turn out to be wrong about this, I apologize in advance.) The Taliban, of course, is not a sovereign nation (although it once ruled Afghanistan and thought its approach not only legitimate, but the only way in which the country should have been run.) You may recall that (under its rule) secular music was forbidden, women were required to be covered from head to toe and to cease working outside the home. As for religious tolerance (or the lack thereof) remember the destruction of a giant statue of Buddha that had stood for centuries? Not exactly a beacon of enlightenment.

While supporters of, and apologists for, the Taliban may justify the attack at the wedding, most of the civilized world will disapprove in various degrees of expression. Indeed, many will recoil in horror. I wonder, however, how many who currently nurture contacts with the Taliban will react. How, in fact, will Islam react, and how will it make its feelings known?

Will there be a call for an international investigation? To what extent will Islam distance itself from this and all such acts? So far, the press coverage--at least in comparison to the Israeli blockade of Gaza--has been muted. Perhaps there is the assumption (both stated and implicit) that more is expected of Israel than the Taliban (one our ally, the other a sworn foe). And, of course, we should expect more from a sovereign nation, than a terrorist insurgency. Unfortunately, history is replete with sovereign nations acting themselves as terrorists. Distinctions between Israel and the Taliban notwithstanding--anyone criticizing Israel for its actions in the blockade should be up in arms over the atrocity perpetrated upon wedding-goers, whose only crime was opposing a totalitarian force dedicated, it would appear, to the eradication of both freedom and joy. The two acts differ not only in degree, but in kind.

Accordingly, we should look carefully at the public reaction to this wanton attack. It will be interesting to see who speaks up, and to what degree. More interesting will be those who don't say a word. To the extent that some who have been most vocal in their denunciation of Israel remain silent in the face of this unprovoked evil, it would be fair to ask what they really stand for. This is not meant to either excuse or defend Israel, nor does it mean that Israel, or any other country with whom we deal, should be free from criticism. As a free nation, we reserve the right--and frequently exercise it--to criticize ourselves. It is merely a question I pose to the "opinion makers" (public and otherwise). Is evil immutable or situational? Can you condemn Israel in the defense of its sovereignty, while ignoring (or minimizing the significance of) a cowardly act of unspeakable horror? Perhaps, once again, it depends on whose ox is getting gored.