Paul Martin Wimbledon
The weight of Wimbledon has, literally, frustrated Wayne Ferreira’s quest for glory on what should be his best surface – grass. He is complaining not so much about the weight of his own expectations, but rather about the heaviness of the tennis balls now being used in the men’s game.
This is not some bizarre excuse for his disappointingly one-sided straight-sets loss this week to the 1996 Wimbledon champion Richard Krajicek. Even before that match he had confided that the odds were becoming increasingly stacked against him at Wimbledon.
“The heavier ball comes through lower. It makes it a lot harder for me to serve and volley on my second serve. I have to stay back more,” he said.
This certainly does hinder Ferreira’s natural attacking game, but he also notes his key strength: the ability to adapt his style and pattern of play according to the way the match is going. “I’ve won many matches by changing tactics and many players don’t have the all-court game to do that,” he says.
Mind you, there was little evidence of this facility during his match against Krajicek. Nor did his nerve seem to stand up to the ultimate tests: he double-faulted twice at critical points against the tall Dutchman (set point against Ferreira in the first, set point for him in the third).
That said, though, Ferreira was undoubtedly hindered by a pulled stomach muscle, which emasculated his serves and his agility. That on top of a dubious ankle, damaged during the French Open.
That he was able to play so well in the early rounds of Wimbledon (especially against Alberto Costa, the world number 15, and in Ferreira’s view, the best Spaniard on grass) bears testimony to the efficiency of his coach Kieran Vorster.
Interestingly, he needs only to play moderately well to improve substantially on his pre-Wimbledon world ranking of 27. That’s because he missed several tournaments late last year, and he will rise in the rankings just by playing the equivalent events this time. “I can really only go up, and it’s an exciting time for me,” says the increasingly upbeat Ferreira.
His confidence extends longer-term too, despite his approaching 27th birthday. “When I was starting the circuit at 17 or 18, I used to think people of my current age were really on their way out. Now I feel that I have four or five great years left, and who knows how much more afterwards. I feel I can really go on forever.”
Bionic man he may claim to be, but he admits that retirement would have its pleasant side. His schooldays as a superb all-round sportsman included golf, which he now pursues with deep enthusiasm.
He has a private battle here, too: with his mind. He crumbles under putting pressure in golf, Ferreira notes, yet can withstand the crunch moments in tennis with greater equanimity. Indeed he sees golf as his next sporting arena. “I hated schoolwork, so university studies don’t interest me. After retiring, I want to dedicate my life to golf and see if there is something other than tennis that I can really excel at.”
Yet foremost in his mind is a belief that, given a good draw, no injuries and a slice of luck, there is at least one Grand Slam title left in him. “Once I stop believing I can do it, then it will be time to quit. Don’t count me out yet!”
ENDS