Consultant and administrator of the Comédie-Française Foundation, David Brunat is the author of a dozen books, he has notably published "Pamphlettres" (Plon, 2015), "ENA Circus" (Éditions du Cerf, 2018) and, more recently, “A model princess” (Éditions Héloïse d’Ormesson, 2022).
In a text that this great tennis lover, Jean-Luc Godard, liked to quote, a text in which he made the American champion of the yellow ball - white at the time - Bill Tilden talk, the American novelist and poet Frederic Prokosch wrote:
“
Tennis is more than just a sport.
It's an art, like ballet.
Or like a theatrical performance.
When I enter the court, I feel like Anna Pavlova.
Or even to Sarah Bernhardt.
I see the ramp in front of me.
I hear the audience whispering.
I feel an icy shiver.
Win or die!
It's now or never!
But I'm old, boy, old.
My legs let me down.
»
These words, one would swear they were intended for another giant of the courts, the star of the stars of the yellow planet, the model, the icon, the legend, the more-than-perfect sportsman Roger Federer who hangs up gloves and rackets after a quarter century of a reign which was certainly not without sharing but which will remain forever as the most beautiful, as a long line of light, grace and inventions.
One knee out of breath, and that's the end of the exploits of the divine Swiss, genius surveyor of all playing surfaces, living treasure of his art, athlete with the soles of the wind, surveyor-expert with a spirit of finesse rarely equaled on the courts, but also a good comrade, an accomplished philanthropist, a savvy entrepreneur, an ardent patriot, an exemplary husband and a fulfilled family man.
A hero all the way (white), with a touch of romance and poetry, and also laughter, tears, humor and a few bloodshots.
Everything has been said about him, and the mythical dimension of this character with unparalleled popularity in the world of sport has been excellently portrayed by the authors of the book
Federer, a contemporary myth
, Frédéric Vallois and Charles Haroche.
So what's the point of going back to it, insisting, adding another layer?
Well, we never got tired of it!
Never.
The years went by, but our admiring enthusiasm did not wane.
One more minute, Mr. Executioner!
Another tournament!
One more season and a few titles before letting the hero put his rackets away.
We knew that this day would come, a day inevitably sad to cry which would be like a small death for all of us, and a reminder that we may be a magician with a talent out of the thigh of Jupiter, we do not have any not least the age of his knees and his arteries.
Upon the announcement of his retirement, the tributes and thanks-for-all-you-have-accomplished-Rodger poured in with the devastating speed of his famous off-kilter forehand.
David Brunat
We asked for more.
And we had it.
Nothing to protest!
Rabs galore!
Busty extensions!
Brilliant rebirths, such as his dazzling victory at the Australian Open in 2017 after months of downtime and care – a providential victory followed by other sumptuous trophies, notably on the green carpet of Wimbledon.
But here it is: when the gods and the Phoenix are won over by osteoarthritis and start to frequent the operating theaters more often than Olympus, the hour of the final whistle and the last exchange is near.
This time, therefore, it is over.
The body begged for mercy and this hero with such a sweet smile and such hard strikes, who always knew how to listen to himself intelligently, measure his energy and adjust his schedule to his state of form, decreed that it was time to hang up .
Dignified, courageously, with the class and the panache that are its own.
And this, after a quarter of a century on the circuit, exactly 24 years at the ATP, without a hitch, without any false note or scandal.
24 years in the life of a man, and of a man of this caliber inhabited by the love of his sport and loved all over the world, this is called a destiny, an incarnated masterpiece, an apotheosis .
But the body having its reasons that reason cannot ignore indefinitely except to take the risk of fighting too much and of a pitiful “therapeutic relentlessness”, Federer took this wise decision.
And he did it as usual with art and manner.
Out of respect for himself, for his sport and for his fans, and certainly not out of weariness, because the flame still shone as brightly as when, a pimply junior, schoolboy, angry and dowdy in the city like the ace of spades (the
fashion
sponsors
have not yet knocked on his door), he was doing his scales and sharpening his claws of prodigy in construction.
Upon the announcement of his retirement, the tributes and thanks-for-all-you-have-accomplished-Rodger poured in with the devastating speed of his famously offbeat, plush, silky-smooth and precision forehand. which we dare not say surgical, Federer having passed on the billiards more often than in turn in recent years.
Federer received the homage of Rafael Nadal, Spanish prose writer with a plethoric work, força of lines invariably sweating water and blood to make his copies.
David Brunat
For me, a lifelong fan of the Basel master like millions of my congeners more or less skilled at kicking the ball but quick to clap their hands to wildly applaud the exploits of the "goat" (Editor's note, the best in his field ) I have not found a better way to greet the champion in this sad and moving hour than these words from Prokosch.
Ah, yes, there is better.
These words of a Spanish prose writer with a plethoric work, of a convict of the lines invariably sweating water and blood to make his copies (but what copies!), of the Cid of the yellow ball: Rafael Nadal.
Rafa perfectly summed up the feeling of the greatest number by exclaiming, a great muscular lord with such a tender heart despite the pecs of steel and the bionic biceps and the roars on each ball strike: "
I would have liked this day never happens, it's a sad day for me and for sport all over the world.
»
Rafa wouldn't have become what he has without Roger - and vice versa - and I wonder if he didn't shed a tear when he heard the sad news.
A tear of gratitude and emotion.
But also of premonition.
Because his turn will come to him too, he is next on the list and he knows it.
Thank you artist, congratulations Roger, hats off, and good luck outside the courts with always the same sovereign and smiling grace.
Come on
!