1. I like Jo-Wilfried Tsonga. When he meets Novak Djokovic at 4 p.m. (RP time) later for the final, I’ll cheer for him. I hope he wins. And if he plays like he did against Rafael Nadal, he’ll win. But will the enormity of a Grand Slam final rattle his brain? And unnerve him? I hope not. Because watching him play Nadal, it’s hard to find someone so unruffled, unaffected, unflappable. Yet…
2. Djokovic will win. I hate to say this but he will. Tsonga (pronounced “Songa”) is playing in only his fifth career Grand Slam event. Novak? He played at last September’s U.S. Open final. So he’s experienced and, at world no.3, more reliable in pressure-cooker situations like today. Still…
3. I hope Tsonga wins.
4. Back to Tsonga-Nadal: In all the decades I’ve watched this sport, I must rate Tsonga’s game that night as one of the most immaculate and masterful I’ve seen. Nadal is no slouch. He runs like a cheetah and is built like Hulk Hogan. Nobody—not even the great Federer—embarrasses Nadal. Until Tsonga did last Thursday.
5. Is Tsonga for real? Where did he come from? Is he, as so many are, a one-event fluke? A star who glitters today but who’ll evaporate tomorrow? No, no. A former US Open junior champ, the reason why he’s appeared only now is because he’s been badly injured. But now that he’s healthy, enemies beware…
6. “Floats like a butterfly, stings like a bee.” Does that refer to someone?