Richard Jago
“Cry for help when there’s no here-Rafter …” wailed the Melbourne Age when the Australian’s rickety shoulder was apparently falling to bits. That sentiment is being even more keenly felt now as Pat Rafter, arguably the most popular man on the tennis tour, plays what may be his final grand slam.
All year long there has been speculation about his retirement, but it seems certain that, if he is to capture a third United States Open title, it must be this year.
Last week Rafter pulled out of a tournament to rest for Flushing Meadows, citing “extreme fatigue”. There is no chance of his playing the next two grand slams, leaving the door ajar for one last effort to reverse the defeats in the past two Wimbledon finals.
Rafter’s feelings about the Association of Tennis Professionals (ATP) Tour’s debilitating demands were expressed in one bitter-sweet comment recently. “The better you’re doing the more commitments you have and the nicer you have to be,” he said. “And that’s not natural for me. I’m such a fake. I just want to be an asshole. Looking forward to it,” he added, grinning.
It amused and puzzled in equal measure. What Rafter meant is that during a six-month break in the first half of next year he hopes he does not miss the game. And if he does not, he will not come back.
The reasons are clear. Last year he suffered cramps in the Davis Cup final, forcing him to retire, and they struck again in this year’s Australian Open just when he had the better of eventual champion Andre Agassi. Rafter separated from his trainer Mark Waters, saying he did not want to train any more.
A run of three defeats in finals brought an admission that his mental approach was not right. The continual serve-volleying and plunging around at the net has taken its toll. And he knows that there is a limited number of deliveries left in that shoulder.
If the week off has refreshed Rafter, he will still be one of the front-runners for the US Open. Even so, only the prospect of winning the next Davis Cup final, in Sydney in December, has kept Rafter going.
It is not surprising people wonder how to replace him. The simple answer is, they cannot. The only consistent exponent of a style that is almost extinct, Rafter’s capacity to be both a woman’s man and a man’s man gives him unique charisma.
A magazine once voted him “one of the world’s sexiest men”; he was applauded by the ATP for donating R2,5-million to Brisbane Children’s Hospital; fellow players applauded him as the tour’s most sporting opponent. And those repelled by the egotism and materialism in tennis are relieved to hear Rafter disclaim the trappings of success.
“Fame won’t affect me,” he says. “I made that mistake once and when I got home my brothers soon put me right. They say you have to be big-headed to play tennis and it isn’t true. The difference between golfers and tennis players is that when they become successful, golfers are more mature.”
No doubt Rafter’s feet were also kept firmly on the ground by his father Jim, named last week as Australia’s Father of the Year in recognition for raising nine children with his wife of 40 years, Jocelyn, on their family farm at Mount Ida.
One of Rafter’s deepest wishes is to remain “the same old sack of crap that I am”. After a second US Open triumph two years ago, he announced: “If I win this and I am not myself and become a jerk, I would rather not have it.”