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OLYMPIC SPECIAL
The
Frustrating Truth
In
a sense it was inevitable; in a sense it could be beneficial. The frustrating
truth is that in 1998 when their friendship was singing they won no Grand
Slams; in 1999 when looking each other in the eye was painful, they ruled
the world. As Mahesh said last year, "It showed how professional
we were." Leander agrees with that, but now gives their success an
unusual interpretation. "When we were fighting we were proving a
point to each other, we were setting standards for each other on court,
and when we did that, the opposition had no chance."
If that's
what it takes, fight fellows, just play together.
There is
a laconic quality to Mahesh, a mixture of a cowboy's loose, lazy drawl
and a bad-tempered clerk's penchant for the monosyllable. But it is a
facade, for when he chooses the mask falls and an articulate man with
an agile mind appears. Ask him what three things made Leander and him
the best in the world and he's as fast as a gunfighter: "Communication,
competing hard and an individual understanding of doubles."
The question
is, are all these retrievable before the Olympics begin? They still appreciate
the nuances of doubles, its angles, changes of pace, shot selection as
well as anyone; they still have an undiluted aversion to losing. Physically
they swear they're ready. Mahesh's shoulder broke down after a four-set
singles match at Wimbledon, but after 10 days of rehabilitation and workouts
every alternate day with weights, he says the strength has returned. Leander
has been testing his wrist for weeks too, and says with a laugh, "It's
better than before." But most of all, they need to find their rhythm
again, to move in perfect step, to dance, like they once did, with the
unison of Fred Astaire and Gene Kelly.
They know
it will take matches, as many as they can fit in, to make the jigsaw pieces
fit smoothly. So they will play the Hamlet Cup in Long Island, and Tashkent,
even if the latter might mean they miss the Opening Ceremony and Leander
forfeits the possibility of carrying the Indian flag. "For him to
give that up is a big deal," says Mahesh. But as Leander says, "The
priority is gold."
They probably
will not win those early tournaments, but no matter. They search instead
for the moment when confidence returns, and their instincts run true.
It could be a lob over Mahesh's head but him unconcerned, knowing that
Leander is tracking it; it could be, explains Leander, like the 1999 French
Open quarter finals, in the third set, in a tight match, "and we
got just one break point and bang, Mahesh drilled the winner down the
line". Not just recognising the moment, but taking it.
They do
not fear the Woodies, who won the French Open and Wimbledon, and will
be playing at home. They do not fear the fact that new doubles teams made
up of men from the same country-Sebastian Lareau-Daniel Nestor of Canada,
Alex O'Brien-Jared Palmer of the US, Niklaus Kulti-Michael Tillstrom of
Sweden-have all been practising hard through the year and are in the Top
10 (see chart). They do not fear the Sydney hardcourts (Rebound Ace like
the Australian Open), even though they'd prefer clay but still it's better
than grass, and the fact that being unseeded may mean a first round meeting
with the Woodies. No, these men who believe they're untouchable when playing
well, only fear time.
Is there
enough?
Perhaps
it's too much to ask. For their bodies to stay glued, their draw to be
favourable, their form to arrive in 30-odd days.
Their uncertain
present outweighs their glorious past, and maybe winning a medal will
truly require a miracle.
But maybe
they say they don't need one because they know one has already occurred.
After all, they're back together, aren't they?
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