tennis slash - The Unlucky Roger Federer (2)
Title: The Unlucky Roger Federer (2)
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairing: Roger Federer/Andy Roddick
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. What if Roger Federer wasn't the great champion? What if his career was plagued by injuries, bad luck and constantly losing to a certain American.
Author's Note: I made one modification to the previous chapter - I mixed up his "recent results". Later chapters use those results (since they do involve Andy's role).
Luck never seemed to be on his side. The early part of his career could be blamed more on hardship but luck didn't really aid the cause either.
Roger sat alone in his hotel room, days before Wimbledon started. A bottle courtesy of some passerby dangling loosely from his hand. He barely drank from it but he was already in a reflective mode over his career. The career that was marked with should've's and could've's and, the worst of all, if only's.
He had heard everyone say that he had the skills to be the best in the game. Those voices started when he was the kid who beat Pete Sampras at Wimbledon in 2001. Then wondered when he would win the big one after each disappointing early exit.
2003 was supposed to be the year everything finally came together. After several bad first round exits, including that year at the French, he had a wonderful run at Wimbledon. He didn’t know at the time it’d be a recurring problem when he faced Andy in the semis. The guy seeded one behind him blasted him off the court en route to the final.
Roger knew that Andy lost that final (to whom, he couldn’t remember). He just considered that this was an upcoming rival: they were the same age, at the same point in their careers, contrasting styles. He was geared up for the US Open that year.
Two days before the US Open started, he was taking a cab with his coach to the practice courts when the plan shifted course. The cab tried to beat the red light and was clobbered by an oncoming car, hitting the back of the vehicle. Roger doesn’t remember the accident itself but does recall the early words about them not knowing if he could walk again.
He was in the hospital when a nurse asked if he’d be interested in watching the US Open final. He had been dodging the tournament all along - why would he want to be constantly reminded of the place he was supposed to be, wanted to be.
There Andy was in the final, dominating Juan Carlos. In control, a poise Andy didn't have just a few months earlier in the Wimbledon final. Everything seemed so simple for the American when he won the title. The look of exhilaration, excitement, all feelings Roger wished he could feel instead of the pain shooting through his body that was not quite blocked by the painkillers.
Roger saved the next day’s newspaper photo of Andy’s beaming smile as he cradled the trophy. That photo was going to motivate him. Get back on that court, knock that smile off his face and the trophy from his hands.
Mirka would get annoyed at that photo. Roger looked at it all the time, refusing to believe it was anything more than motivation. Mirka had sniped that he should have saved the photo of Andy in the crowd, kissing the actress that was his girlfriend at the time.
Still, that talk died down once he was able to get back on the practice court - luckily the unable to walk again talk had been premature. It would take six months before Roger got back on the tour. His ranking had gone low but he hadn't been out long enough for a protected ranking. That meant he was facing elite players in the first match, making it impossible to get into a rhythm.
2004 was the comeback year that wasn’t. Missing the Australian, obviously. Early exit from French. Hamstring injury forcing him out of Wimbledon.
A year to the day of the accident, Roger saw the headlines for the upcoming US Open. Of course, it was all about the defending champion and the current number one player in the world, Andy Roddick. These articles got added to what was now becoming a pile, the winning pose from last year's US Open on top.
He spotted Andy with his beautiful model girlfriend of the moment outside a restaurant. They weren’t posing for the paparazzi but they weren’t shying away from it either. Mirka dragged Roger away, not a word exchanged on the matter.
His mind wasn’t really on the tournament after that, though he survived to the quarterfinals based on luck of the draw. At least the commentators could claim that his game was back, even if he knew he’d faced a clay courter, some kid from an island called Cyprus and a walkover the previous round. But he’d lost to Agassi and that was to be respected regardless of Roger’s feelings on his play or draw. There was no hint of the accident that had occurred twelve months earlier as far as everyone else was concerned.
2005 began with a tough semifinal loss to Marat Safin at the Australian. Then a nice and unexpected run at the French, ended by a phenom named Rafael Nadal.
Roger was excited about Wimbledon that year. Three solid Grand Slam results in a row had gotten Roger to a ranking of 7. Andy’s ranking had slipped from 1 to 3: he’d enjoyed his success a little too much, according to the gossip pages, which loved reporting on the assorted blondes. Not that it mattered - they were on opposite sides of the draw.
Still, it wasn’t lost on Roger that he wasn't far behind the guy that had motivated him after the car accident. The only difference between them as players was Andy was a Grand Slam champion and Roger was not.
Mirka was more annoyed with Roger than ever, sniping at him about little things. The outfit was the wrong design, should have gotten an earlier flight, crappy service at the hotel, not much seemed to please her at that point.
Up until then, Roger wasn't too phased by his career path. Still young. Just because Andy got there first was nothing to be concerned about. The accident nothing more than a distant memory.
Roger and Mirka were sitting in a restaurant the day before the tournament when another bickering session took place. It would have just faded away into the pile if Andy hadn't walked in.
It appeared that Andy had tried to go incognito but, when a guy is known for wearing a baseball cap in his matches, the options are limited. Not that anyone else had figured out it was him. He and one of the Bryan twins - which one, Roger could have only known if they were both there but he'd find out later it was Bob the lefty - had taken a table in the back of the restaurant. They were speaking softly but in an animated fashion. They also seemed to be quite close.
In time, Roger would find out there was absolutely nothing more than friendship with those two; the Bryan twins were overly affectionate toward everyone, especially each other. In that moment, however, it was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't explain. He couldn't focus on what Mirka was saying, more interested in reading lips to figure out what they were saying. Andy was the one facing Roger and Mirka's table but it was almost as if he was avoiding their direction.
When Andy and Bob left, Mirka swatted Roger with her napkin then stormed out. Roger wouldn't see her again until she was spotted in the stands for his first round match, a grim look fixed on her face. She wouldn't specifically say anything but they only talked in professional terms during Roger's run at Wimbledon.
It would turn out to be a long run in silence. Roger seemed to keep crossing paths with Andy, one heading to the practice court while the other had a match to play. Roger always was the one giving the polite greeting, which Andy would mutter a reply before walking away.
Everything appeared magnified when it came to Andy. Roger wished he could stop analyzing every little encounter with him like he was a lovesick teenager. He wasn't interested in Andy in that way, just on the tennis court. This focus powered Roger through the tournament, winning match after match until he found himself in the semifinals.
He'd like to say he had no idea that Andy was also in the semifinals, that Andy was matched up against a player where he was the favorite. That Andy already played two five-set matches, one against a player who had no business taking him to a fifth set in the first place. He shouldn't be aware of any of that.
He should be focused on his match, the one against the current number 1 Lleyton Hewitt, not on the possible match-up in the final. His first final no less. He'd already had several chances to make a Grand Slam final and not taken advantage of the opportunity.
Mirka went through the motions when it came to the motivational talk in the locker room before the match. She glared at the television monitor showing the other semifinal, its visuals blaring at Roger's back. He doesn't need to see the screen to detect exactly when Andy won his match. The way Mirka stormed off followed by the noise outside said it all.
It felt imperative that he take the opportunity this time. Too many chances have already passed. So even though the opponent was Lleyton, the match seemed easy. Roger was in the final.
At this point, the story had some bumps but it ultimately got Roger to the destination. One match from the ultimate prize. Wimbledon was the one he cherished most.
Once he got off the court from that semifinal, nothing would ever seem easy again.
Part 3
Post-Author's Note 1. There is no way in hell I'm going to write that Philippoussis won 2003 Wimbledon. But I didn't want to lose Andy's US Open moment so the result is simply "forgotten".
Author: Kris S.
Fandom: Tennis RPS
Pairing: Roger Federer/Andy Roddick
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU. What if Roger Federer wasn't the great champion? What if his career was plagued by injuries, bad luck and constantly losing to a certain American.
Author's Note: I made one modification to the previous chapter - I mixed up his "recent results". Later chapters use those results (since they do involve Andy's role).
Luck never seemed to be on his side. The early part of his career could be blamed more on hardship but luck didn't really aid the cause either.
Roger sat alone in his hotel room, days before Wimbledon started. A bottle courtesy of some passerby dangling loosely from his hand. He barely drank from it but he was already in a reflective mode over his career. The career that was marked with should've's and could've's and, the worst of all, if only's.
He had heard everyone say that he had the skills to be the best in the game. Those voices started when he was the kid who beat Pete Sampras at Wimbledon in 2001. Then wondered when he would win the big one after each disappointing early exit.
2003 was supposed to be the year everything finally came together. After several bad first round exits, including that year at the French, he had a wonderful run at Wimbledon. He didn’t know at the time it’d be a recurring problem when he faced Andy in the semis. The guy seeded one behind him blasted him off the court en route to the final.
Roger knew that Andy lost that final (to whom, he couldn’t remember). He just considered that this was an upcoming rival: they were the same age, at the same point in their careers, contrasting styles. He was geared up for the US Open that year.
Two days before the US Open started, he was taking a cab with his coach to the practice courts when the plan shifted course. The cab tried to beat the red light and was clobbered by an oncoming car, hitting the back of the vehicle. Roger doesn’t remember the accident itself but does recall the early words about them not knowing if he could walk again.
He was in the hospital when a nurse asked if he’d be interested in watching the US Open final. He had been dodging the tournament all along - why would he want to be constantly reminded of the place he was supposed to be, wanted to be.
There Andy was in the final, dominating Juan Carlos. In control, a poise Andy didn't have just a few months earlier in the Wimbledon final. Everything seemed so simple for the American when he won the title. The look of exhilaration, excitement, all feelings Roger wished he could feel instead of the pain shooting through his body that was not quite blocked by the painkillers.
Roger saved the next day’s newspaper photo of Andy’s beaming smile as he cradled the trophy. That photo was going to motivate him. Get back on that court, knock that smile off his face and the trophy from his hands.
Mirka would get annoyed at that photo. Roger looked at it all the time, refusing to believe it was anything more than motivation. Mirka had sniped that he should have saved the photo of Andy in the crowd, kissing the actress that was his girlfriend at the time.
Still, that talk died down once he was able to get back on the practice court - luckily the unable to walk again talk had been premature. It would take six months before Roger got back on the tour. His ranking had gone low but he hadn't been out long enough for a protected ranking. That meant he was facing elite players in the first match, making it impossible to get into a rhythm.
2004 was the comeback year that wasn’t. Missing the Australian, obviously. Early exit from French. Hamstring injury forcing him out of Wimbledon.
A year to the day of the accident, Roger saw the headlines for the upcoming US Open. Of course, it was all about the defending champion and the current number one player in the world, Andy Roddick. These articles got added to what was now becoming a pile, the winning pose from last year's US Open on top.
He spotted Andy with his beautiful model girlfriend of the moment outside a restaurant. They weren’t posing for the paparazzi but they weren’t shying away from it either. Mirka dragged Roger away, not a word exchanged on the matter.
His mind wasn’t really on the tournament after that, though he survived to the quarterfinals based on luck of the draw. At least the commentators could claim that his game was back, even if he knew he’d faced a clay courter, some kid from an island called Cyprus and a walkover the previous round. But he’d lost to Agassi and that was to be respected regardless of Roger’s feelings on his play or draw. There was no hint of the accident that had occurred twelve months earlier as far as everyone else was concerned.
2005 began with a tough semifinal loss to Marat Safin at the Australian. Then a nice and unexpected run at the French, ended by a phenom named Rafael Nadal.
Roger was excited about Wimbledon that year. Three solid Grand Slam results in a row had gotten Roger to a ranking of 7. Andy’s ranking had slipped from 1 to 3: he’d enjoyed his success a little too much, according to the gossip pages, which loved reporting on the assorted blondes. Not that it mattered - they were on opposite sides of the draw.
Still, it wasn’t lost on Roger that he wasn't far behind the guy that had motivated him after the car accident. The only difference between them as players was Andy was a Grand Slam champion and Roger was not.
Mirka was more annoyed with Roger than ever, sniping at him about little things. The outfit was the wrong design, should have gotten an earlier flight, crappy service at the hotel, not much seemed to please her at that point.
Up until then, Roger wasn't too phased by his career path. Still young. Just because Andy got there first was nothing to be concerned about. The accident nothing more than a distant memory.
Roger and Mirka were sitting in a restaurant the day before the tournament when another bickering session took place. It would have just faded away into the pile if Andy hadn't walked in.
It appeared that Andy had tried to go incognito but, when a guy is known for wearing a baseball cap in his matches, the options are limited. Not that anyone else had figured out it was him. He and one of the Bryan twins - which one, Roger could have only known if they were both there but he'd find out later it was Bob the lefty - had taken a table in the back of the restaurant. They were speaking softly but in an animated fashion. They also seemed to be quite close.
In time, Roger would find out there was absolutely nothing more than friendship with those two; the Bryan twins were overly affectionate toward everyone, especially each other. In that moment, however, it was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't explain. He couldn't focus on what Mirka was saying, more interested in reading lips to figure out what they were saying. Andy was the one facing Roger and Mirka's table but it was almost as if he was avoiding their direction.
When Andy and Bob left, Mirka swatted Roger with her napkin then stormed out. Roger wouldn't see her again until she was spotted in the stands for his first round match, a grim look fixed on her face. She wouldn't specifically say anything but they only talked in professional terms during Roger's run at Wimbledon.
It would turn out to be a long run in silence. Roger seemed to keep crossing paths with Andy, one heading to the practice court while the other had a match to play. Roger always was the one giving the polite greeting, which Andy would mutter a reply before walking away.
Everything appeared magnified when it came to Andy. Roger wished he could stop analyzing every little encounter with him like he was a lovesick teenager. He wasn't interested in Andy in that way, just on the tennis court. This focus powered Roger through the tournament, winning match after match until he found himself in the semifinals.
He'd like to say he had no idea that Andy was also in the semifinals, that Andy was matched up against a player where he was the favorite. That Andy already played two five-set matches, one against a player who had no business taking him to a fifth set in the first place. He shouldn't be aware of any of that.
He should be focused on his match, the one against the current number 1 Lleyton Hewitt, not on the possible match-up in the final. His first final no less. He'd already had several chances to make a Grand Slam final and not taken advantage of the opportunity.
Mirka went through the motions when it came to the motivational talk in the locker room before the match. She glared at the television monitor showing the other semifinal, its visuals blaring at Roger's back. He doesn't need to see the screen to detect exactly when Andy won his match. The way Mirka stormed off followed by the noise outside said it all.
It felt imperative that he take the opportunity this time. Too many chances have already passed. So even though the opponent was Lleyton, the match seemed easy. Roger was in the final.
At this point, the story had some bumps but it ultimately got Roger to the destination. One match from the ultimate prize. Wimbledon was the one he cherished most.
Once he got off the court from that semifinal, nothing would ever seem easy again.
Part 3
Post-Author's Note 1. There is no way in hell I'm going to write that Philippoussis won 2003 Wimbledon. But I didn't want to lose Andy's US Open moment so the result is simply "forgotten".