Fed vs. Rod

I had decided not to write anything before I perfect Fur Elise (:-)) but the latest developments have been so astounding that I could not restrain myself.

Ha Ha Ha Ha.......................
I could laugh all through the article and be able to convey my deepest emotions over the Semi Final in Australian Open between Federer and Roddick, but I guess it won't be that interesting a read. So I will try to put in words what can only be surmised in skipped heartbeats and astonished gasps.

So much for the gap being closed. So much for the challenge of the young and the roar of the contemprory. So much for Federer being mortal. If you did not see the cold blooded murder which was committed this wednesday, you have missed one of the greatest spectacles which this creatively stunted society has to offer. It was not so much a victory but more of a virtuoso performance wherein Roddick was just reduced to the role of the facilitator of greatness. He was reduced to the status of a mere spectator (albiet with the best seats in the stadium) who watched helplessly as impossible cross-court passes eluded his formidable reach, as screaching forehand winners whizzed past his ears and as perfectly calculated lobs went soaring over his head. I do not blame his frustration. You are not supposed to be humiliated in such a fashion WHEN YOU ARE RANKED 6 IN THE WORLD. You are not supposed to be broken 5 times straight when YOU HAVE THE FASTEST SERVE IN THE WORLD. You are not supposed to be decimated in such a fashion when YOU HAVE BEEN KICKING EVERYONE ELSE'S ASS.

Federer glided on the court with the aplomb of Galina Ulanova (Ballet). He played with the imagination and creativity of Beethoven. He dominated with the ferocity of the Don (Bradman) and took care of affairs with the promptness and expertise of Holmes (Sherlock). It was such a spiritual experience. Just when I think the world has got nothing more to offer than stale celebrity gossip, depressing violent tales, immoral escapades of trechearous politicians or the vulgar materialistic success stories, something this pure comes up and reinstates my belief in basic human creativity.

There is still a final to go and I am sure that if Federer loses, there will be an army of people ready to kick my ass for my unabashed boasting Fedex's godlike stature. But what the hell. The chances of that happening are less than that of my getting "ALL" of this years nobel prizes and the next field medal :).