yarrr, ye scurvy boy-king, halt ye whinin'

But the Swiss is favourite, for the match and with the crowd. Australians play sport grittily, but have an affection for his artistry. At one point, Federer feathers in three successive backhand slices. They slide, they drift, one with less spin, one with more pace, delicate yet dangerous, and then suddenly he shifts from touch to power, whipping a forehand down the line for a winner. The stadium erupts in disbelief.

Federer races through the second set, 6-2, but the third will decide the match. It is exhausting in its tension, it is illogical in its shifts of momentum.

Andreev breaks Federer 2-1, Federer breaks back 2-2. Then he breaks Andreev to 5-3 and serves for the set. The Russian, defiant, breaks back for 5-4 and breaks again to lead 6-5. The Swiss exhales irritation, the crowd breathes. This is no time for toilet breaks or beer runs.

...Federer...weathers the three set points, races through the tie-break 7-2. All day, his serve has lacked snap, the entire third set he has not touched 200kmh. Now he produces two aces, wide, at that speed. Andeev is deflated, tired; Federer has found another wind, gear, plane. He flies through the fourth set 6-0. It is over.

from 'It's Roger and Out for Russian' by Rohit Brijnath
(The Straits Times, 20 January 2010)