Cry Havoc!
(RG two and a half)
For loyal readers of Finite Jest it will come as no surprise that I thrive in just the right amount of chaos. In life, in tennis, in romance - a little chaos has always made me feel alive. Forgotten your house keys? Why don’t you climb through the bathroom window! Down 5:1 and a double break? Why not venture a comeback! This year’s Roland Garros has lived by this premise and will probably die by this premise.
It’s been one of the craziest major tournaments in recent memory. By semifinal stage, none of the players left in the singles draws had won a major title before. I will keep this newsletter fairly short and do a longer one on Monday after both finals have concluded but I did want to get into a few storylines.
Let’s talk about Aryna Sabalenka first. Her collapse against Diana Shnaider in the quarterfinals was sudden, unexpected and very reminiscent of last year’s final against Coco Gauff. It was just as windy and cold as last year and she faced a crafty player who was in full control of her attitude and emotions. It was almost like a trauma that got triggered on the same court where things had unravelled for Aryna before. Nowadays, the word trauma is being thrown around like somebody looking at you sideways on the subway is trauma-inducing. This is obviously not that and it is not supposed to be equivalent to actual trauma with real-life consequences. Tennis is still only a game that you sometimes lose in. But there is such a thing where players go through something on court that feels so bad that they pack it up and push it down into the abyss of their unconscious. And if you’ve read my piece “Why I think Sigmund Freud must’ve played tennis” (or if you’re just plain ol’ familiar with Freud LOL) you will know that Freud believed that everything that is repressed will come back to haunt you until you resolve it (if you haven’t read it, you may do so here).
It was further aggravated by the fact that all three matches that Aryna lost this year were after having had a lead. The reason I bring this up is to make people understand how things can spiral even for the best tennis players in the world. When the system breaks down and demons from the past take over, it’s extremely hard to snap yourself out of the machinery that is pulling you into its depth. Sabalenka faced Diana Shnaider who as much as Juan Manuel Cerundolo against Jannik Sinner was able to register what was happening on the other side without losing sight of what’s more important in that moment: to focus on yourself. You would be surprised how hard that is to do when the occasion is so big.
My two favourite players of the tournament so far have been Maja Chwalinska and Flavio Cobolli. To be fair, Maja has grown to be a fan favourite for many viewers over the course of the last two weeks. I’m not being particularly indie here. And why wouldn’t she! Such high tennis IQ, so much variety and the sneaking into the net after especially well hit shots - all of it is astounding. But the fact that she served out the semifinal as if she’s never done anything else was the icing on the cake. In big moments, players tend to become too aggressive or too passive compared to what they usually do on the court. Maja just remained steadfast in her approach to her game, quietly constructing and building and weighing point after point like a brilliant little architect. It was beautiful to see.
Flavio Cobolli is the other player who has captured my heart in the heat of Paris. Tennis-wise, he has found the right mixture of defence, attack and a little bit of flair (you have to allow him some of the flair!). He’s mixing up his serve speeds and spins wisely but above all he’s taming the fire within him. It’s still there, it’s still emanating some smoke from the ears every now and then but mostly, it is subdued. Firing at just the right amount. He’s been a joy to watch.
Just as I’m about to send this off, Alexander Zverev has won his semifinal match against Jakub Mensik and will get yet another shot at winning his first Grand Slam tournament. See you all on Monday!
Things that make me happy
The restaurant Le 21 has a set seafood menu and a new chef. Usually, when I hear there’s a set menu I run for the hills. As a former athlete, different textures of foam don’t really rock my culinary boat. Le 21 is haute cuisine at its very best. No showing off, no nonsense, NO FOAM. Braden has a story behind every dish (brackish potatoes? Wine that tastes like cognac?), everything is delicious beyond words (the only reason I didn’t joy-cry into the homemade sourdough bread was that it was perfectly salty on its own) and the Golden Egg dessert is hands down the best thing I have ever eaten. The food was so good that if you ever wanted somebody to sign a bad contract or disadvantageous prenup, here is where you take them. Trust me, they will sign anything.
Things that make me unhappy
A city that survived two World Wars, Ridley Scott’s Napoleon and middle-aged men who wear scarves nearly went down to a won football game. I accidentally got caught in some of the riot action in Paris last Saturday and it was mostly kids filming themselves destroying stuff from what I could gather. The Internet will be the end of us unless you populate it to read long form essays (hi!).
I have an apple and water next to me, a bag of chips and a box of chocolates close to me and am about to settle in to watch Matteo Arnaldi battle his friend and fellow countryman Flavio Cobolli. My Friday night is set. May yours be just as good!
Yours truly, Andrea
So sorry that your evening plans fell through!
Amidst all the chaos it is perhaps worth noting, in the usually *more* chaotic sphere of doubles, both finals will feature the #1 and #2 seeded pairs. The still point of the turning world, as Tom Eliot might have put it.