No.5 seed punishes off-colour Paire
From the wreckage of the draw, the remaining seeds are carefully picking a path into the second week. And for all the new names scattered around the courts, the usual suspects are beginning to push their way to the fore.
Of them, Juan Martin Del Potro, the No.5 seed and the 2009 US Open champion, was making his case as a potential contender for the title. He moved past the gifted but erratic Benoit Paire 6-4, 7-6(4), 6-3 and headed for the locker room after two hours and 24 minutes of reasonably trouble-free effort. His place in the fourth round had been secured.
Prodigiously bearded, Paire clearly likes to make something of a statement on court. At Roland-Garros, he dyed his hair platinum blond and so severe was the process that he actually burned his scalp. As for the colour, it could be seen from space so he decided to tone it down a bit and after a couple of days, he had turned a distinguished shade of grey.
The theory goes that blonds have more fun although quite what colour Paire was sporting on No.2 Court was hard to tell. On a blisteringly hot day, he had, quite sensibly, brought a hat with him and with his collar turned up, à la Eric Cantona (another naughty reference to that sport which we must not mention, but we are trying to paint a picture here) and his left leg swathed in bandages. He was exposing as little as possible to the sunshine. As for having fun – he was not doing particularly well on that front.
It is always a fine line between someone dropping their serve and being broken. In this instance, though, it is fair to say that the Frenchman dropped his serve to go 3-2 down in the first set. It was not his finest moment. And against someone of Del Potro’s calibre, that is not good. Paire never made up the deficit and the first set was gone in 35 minutes.
Popular wisdom has it that the way to beat Del Potro is to play to his backhand. After three operations on his left wrist and one on his right – and being on the verge of retirement two and a half years ago – it is that shot that has been most affected. When he made his latest comeback, he could only hit a sliced backhand, his left wrist not being able to cope with the rigours of topspin.
But that was a long time ago and these days Del Po can thwack a winner down the line when the moment presents itself. And all those months of slicing, slicing, slicing as he edged his way back to the top means that his slice is a pretty fine thing. Still, it is his weaker flank. Then again, look at what we are comparing it to.
Del Potro’s forehand is a thing of wonder. He hits it with such power, such venom, that in moments of crisis it could be signed up for use in civil defence. It is a truly terrifying and devastating shot. Which is strange because away from the courts, Del Po is the gentlest of gentle giants (he is 6ft 6in tall and weighs in at 214lbs). But put a racket in that man’s hand and he turns into any opponent’s worst nightmare.
In the second set, we had a perfect example of these two sides of the Tower of Tandil. He dropped his serve (see above…this was a dropping, not a breaking) and he was furious with himself. He thumped the ball into the court – being careful to avoid damaging either the grass or the officials, naturally – and said something in Spanish along the lines of “Oh Demonos!” which, loosely translated, means “dammit!” He flung his towel away in disgust. He was not a happy camper.
Turning that frustration to his advantage, he started to lay into his forehand in the very next game. One absolute howitzer wrong-footed Paire and the Frenchman ended up in a crumpled heap behind the baseline. He lay there, motionless, for a few seconds and everyone held their breath. Had he hurt that strapped left leg of his? Was he OK? Del Po, quick as a flash was over the net and at his side to see if he was all right and, on hearing the good news that Paire was going to be fine, he helped the Frenchman to his feet. And then Del Po broke him. Just like that.
He got Paire again in the tie-break and after 90 minutes Del Potro was two sets to the good. The Frenchman, on the other hand, was going into meltdown.
He had been “in discussion” with the umpire, Carlos Bernardes, several times in that set, mostly complaining that Bernardes was not helping him with the line calls and the decision whether to challenge or not. The fuse had been lit, then. When he lost the tie-break, he smashed his racquet on his chair and started a long and loud rant in French. Even Paire’s coach, Jean-Charles Diame, was looking nervous by this stage.
That, though, is Paire all over. He has talent – both power and touch – he has even convinced himself that he likes playing on grass (a very recent development) but he also has a very short fuse. And a habit of playing with matches.
But while Paire was chuntering and chunnering, Del Potro was quietly moving into the fourth round. C'est la vie, Benoit, c'est la vie.
