Controversial Post: The effects of steroids in tennis

I had the opportunity a couple of days ago of having the unique experience of seeing what it’s like to play under the influence of steroids, and thought it would be interesting to document especially given the current press attention Andre Agassi’s memoir has been receiving lately.

I don't mean this to be an advertisement for steroids or drugs. Just to set it straight, I was taking steroids for health reasons and happened to play tennis during that period. And I didn’t play an important match. My brother tells me that the steroids I took aren’t performance enhancing (prednisone), but I’m certain they were in some form. I kept telling myself that I’m not crazy, and I know what I was feeling. It wasn’t like I thought I was going to play great tennis before I even started playing. I felt it on the court.

I don't recommend taking it just for the sake of improving your tennis. It has a certain perfection to it that it ruins part of the fun of playing. And it has a numbness to it, like it takes out all the mental challenges of playing tennis, which I suppose is why it worked so well. I’ve heard commentators mention that the mental side of tennis is directly related to physical fitness and I never believed it completely. I couldn’t understand why physical fitness would dictate why someone would miss an important point, for example.

But watching myself play, I noticed how much easier tennis is, without all the internal dialogue going on, when everything just happens to take care of itself for you. Because playing with steroids is like making everything more effortless than it should be. It affects all of the decision-making, every single shot selection and it makes you feel calmer.

It's kind of like a snapshot to what tennis would look like if fitness wasn't an issue, to see what it would look like if you happened to be in position for every ball. I’ve learned that fitness isn’t only about endurance. It’s about how much each shot takes out of you, and each rally. It does it somewhat in a fairytale sort of way, like it breaks so much of the normal thought processes and barriers that you have to fight off when playing tennis.

I don’t need to urge myself to get into position quicker and not be so sluggish, my feet are already doing the work for me. I don’t need to be so impatient or get worried when my opponent keeps returning my good shots, I can just keep him running side to side. I don’t need to be worried about being out of breath if I have to run too much, because I won’t be. I can play aggressively without overplaying, and I can run around as many backhands as I want to, and execute it correctly then make it back to the middle of the court.

Before I started playing, I already had some idea of what it would be like, not having to deal with tiredness but still I expected a similar type of match. The benefits ended up being so much more than that, to the point where the difference in how it makes you feel is so great that it can feel like you're playing better than you actually are. Errors tend to be meaningless, and internal comments tend to be restricted to whether I should hit closer to the lines or bring the margins in.

I'm in the warm-up and I start hitting the ball increasingly harder realizing that whether I hit it soft, or hit it hard, it feels exactly the same. So I may as well just hit everything harder then. It's an incredibly odd feeling that’s difficult to shake off at first because different shots are supposed to take different energy levels. Much of the excitement of hitting a full-paced shot is summoning all the energy of hitting it, putting all of the body weight into it. I didn't get as much joy from hitting winners as I usually do, not that same amazing rush that I get when I really do play great tennis. I think I felt a bit like a ball machine. I wonder if this is what it's like for players with technically competent, effortless shot production all the time.

Whether I hit first serves or second serves, it felt exactly the same. My racquet felt lighter than it usually does. At first it's an adjustment to make, realizing how much of the feel that you have for a particular shot and judgement is based on how hard you swing at the ball. I was scared of hitting the ball long and didn't know what to do entirely, and that's because I did hit some balls long. But I was getting better depth.

My fitness skills are normally not great. I don't do much exercise aside from playing tennis, though I have started playing more regularly recently. I wondered what it'd be like to play if I was an extremely fit player. I wonder if it's a little bit like this, but I can't imagine it'd be this good.

Every time I was hitting a shot, I was in position enough to rarely make any bad errors. I didn't even have to make any effort to get into position, I just happened to get there in time easily. If I happened to catch a ball late, I'd somehow be able to swing through my racquet fast enough to catch up to it and hit a good shot nonetheless.

I was shocked when I shanked a forehand once in the match, that’s how cleanly I was hitting the ball. I missed almost no half volleys from the baseline, because my reflexes were fast enough to get to it. It was quite a sight seeing all of my forehands with a low margin over the net, but amazingly almost never hitting the net.

I wondered how amazing I would have been today if I didn't have such a technically weak backhand. I basically sliced almost every single backhand, and they were weak slices as well, but consistent at least. If it wasn't for my backhand, I would have felt like a completely different player, at a standard that I thought I could never reach.

It wasn't overly important though, not today. I didn’t want to risk hitting a double-handed backhand, if my forehand was working this good. In the first two games of the match, I hadn't yet realized all of the things that I was capable of doing. My opponent hit almost every shot deliberately to my backhand at first, then I realized about four points in, that I could run around almost everything to hit a forehand. And it wouldn’t take any energy out of me, and I'd get there in time to hit a good shot, then get to the next shot without breaking a sweat, as long as I could get my racquet on it.

It seemed like I was incapable of hitting the net. Whenever a ball was low across the net, I somehow brushed over the top of it a little at the end, and that small change was enough to make everything go over the net. I felt like an awesome ball-striker, like one of those better-trained players that have such control that they can hit every shot with a similar trajectory. I think I could have given many of those players I've had trouble with a good run for their money since I tend to have a lot of problem with extremely consistent players.

I was pretty much capable of bashing the ball side-to-side on the forehand without lacking patience. I normally feel that if I go for a shot, then I need to get a reward from it and the pressure builds up immensely with each shot. Hitting too close to the lines after a while. Not here though. I just kept pounding away into the corners. I'm not sure how he managed to track all those balls down.

Occasionally I'd try to breathe louder or put my hand on my hip or something, pretend to gesture that I was feeling a little tired. He was sweating profusely after the match, and I had absolutely no sweat at all. Though if I were him, I would have never even been able to chase down that many balls.

The more the match went on, the more I realized how aggressively I was able to play from the forehand. Down-the-line shots were easy, and so were off-forehands though I tried not to play shots right on the line because that would be pointlessly risky if I could hang in longer rallies. In short, my forehand was amazing and I could pretty much do whatever I wanted with it.

I used to think that long rallies were boring, but in hindsight they're probably not for people who can handle them. I just normally can't, I think it'll ruin me for the end of the match even if not yet. Basically one gruelling rally where I'm breathing heavily afterwards could ruin me a whole match. In fact, it did once. I didn't even notice when a rally was long today.

After an even first couple of games, I dominated the rest of the set until I started overplaying at 30-0 on serve at 5-2 thinking I could do whatever I wanted. But I recovered quickly the following game and won the next game, bringing the margins in.

What an epic day in Paris Bercy

It's been a while since we've had a genuinely exciting day of tennis, and yesterday was it. The billing would not have suggested it, standard early round matches for the big guns, Nadal vs Almagro and Federer vs Benneteau.

I was originally more interested in the outside court, and it's a testament to how dramatic the matches were, that I was somehow able to feel the tension in it while knowing the result of it (but not the scoreline).

Marat Safin vs Juan Martin Del Potro

It was Marat Safin's final tour match officially, an occasion that meant something to Safin himself, not only his fans like his previous ceremonies. The tournaments beforehand had been building up to it with little ceremonies everywhere for Safin in the last month or so, but this was the real one. I found the match had more sentimental value than I thought it would. Safin is the first big name player to retire that I've followed since the beginning of his career, at least the first to be given a proper farewell.

I tuned in at the end of the first set, and saw Del Potro's amazingly good winners-unforced error statistics. My first impression was that both players play relatively similarly, especially feeding the pace off each other, hard-hitting groundstrokes that would usually be characterised by clean struck shots right off the centre of the racquet in the first few strokes, then it would be more of a battle to see who could keep up.

Safin had a lot of trouble returning Del Potro's serve but he held up his end of the bargain on serve. Typically as you'd expect Safin sprayed more off the forehand, and he tended to overplay more than Del Potro did. Somehow I think that's what we wanted to see in Safin's final match though - losses of concentration, glimpses of brilliance and a close, dramatic contest. For a period in the middle to end of the second set, Safin went through a good period with his backhand at one point hitting this amazingly powerful backhand down-the-line winner, reflexed right from the shoelaces off one of Del Potro's shots that landed near the corner on the baseline.

The third set was more erratic on Safin's part, now sensing that the end of his career was closing. And his attitude summed up much of the conflicting and confused emotions that often characterised his career. In the change of ends, he was smiling and leaned over in his chair, relaxed and enjoying the atmosphere. Then two points after the changeover, Safin's disgusted with his effort and throws his racquet in frustration after hitting another wild forehand error.

The most touching moment in the ceremony was seeing Safin's tribute in the form of other players, former and current, and also a wonderfully ecletic mix of players in terms of nationality and personality, from Ivo Karlovic to Novak Djokovic and Tommy Robredo. Realizing that this ceremony was just as much a celebration and form of closure for Safin, as it was for everyone else, and having that added warmth about it. It's the sentiment, not that spectacle that counts.

Rafael Nadal vs Nicolas Almagro

The way the match was played out, this was Almagro's match to lose. Five match points squandered and multiple leads lost in the second and third sets. Some credit must be given to Nadal's fighting spirit, the way he saved those three match points from 0-40 down.

As a spectacle I found it in an incredibly strange match to watch. It was long and drawn-out, but not tension-building.  Nadal's missing an element of specialness to him, that sense that he can turn difficult points around right into his favour. Almagro went all out, plenty of winners and plenty of errors, but errors didn't seem to bother him much. In the past, players had to be a little more consistent to have success against Nadal. Think about how Youzhny, Blake and Berdych would generally be able to keep up great shotmaking point after point. And Cilic and Del Potro in recent times.

The backhand looked particularly worrying for Nadal. It was most noticeable on the big points when Almagro tightened up, and started playing more passively. Every shot went to Nadal's backhand, and Nadal would slice it back with no penetration whatsoever, until Almagro eventually made a mistake. The commentators, Robbie Koenig and Jason Goodall have mentioned continuously that the key for overcoming Nadal is to attack his forehand. But to me, it's a combination of hitting to the backhand first, then getting that floating ball to hit deep and hard to Nadal's forehand.

After breaking Almagro's spirit in the second set, surprisingly Nadal took his foot off the accelerator early in the third and Almagro was back in it. For an instant it looked like Almagro's tiredness, turned to cramping later on would help him favourably, after showing a sudden improvement that allowed him to break serve late in the third set. I was somewhat confused at the end, as to how that great shotmaking suddenly turned into a poor effort the following game when Almagro was serving for the match again. He didn't only miss shots, he missed them by several metres. And he looked like he was incapable of doing anything other than standing and delivering completely upright.  Then his shoulders slumped afterwards and Almagro never looked like winning the match again.

Roger Federer vs Julien Benneteau

This match was the anti-thesis of the Nadal vs Almagro match, straightforward in the way the scoreline played out, but compelling in its own right. What was most impressive was the fact that Benneteau never even blinked. He never even faltered with one noticeable bad or nervous point.

It was Benneteau's typical game red-lined. Typically solid ball-striking, defending his own side of the baseline perfectly seemingly showing no gaping holes to hit into. Whenever he ran to a shot to the open court, he looked like was huffing and puffing to get there, not to the point of tiredness, but not looking like he'd be able to recover for the next shot.

Buoyed by the support from the French crowd, everything Benneteau did was just a little bit better than usual for him - deeper shots, more energetic movement and some inspiration that helped him finish off rallies with impressive crosscourt and down-the-line backhands. What I liked the most was how well Benneteau closed off the net, which was the key to him winning the most crucial of points.

It was a big occasion for the Frenchman and he relished it. The more the match reached closer to the end, he focused more on the crowd, and chose to direct his emotions positively and outwardly. It's one of the few times I've felt a shared experience, emotionally involved in a match that I didn't expect to feel involved in. These are the kind of matches that are worth watching tennis for, those little heartwarming moments that don't mean much in the main scheme of things but make for great viewing.

The strengths and weaknesses of the ATP top 10

This is the article I wrote for Sportingo in an attempt to win the £50 prize, but was unfortunately unsuccessful.

Roger Federer

Known for having one of the most complete, all-round games, Federer has the unique knack of being able to combine sheer pace with finesse. The best shotmaker in the game, capable of winning matches with the most dazzling display of winners.

Defensively he is very light on his feet and has excellent reflexes which allows him to half-volley shots on the defensive, to be able to quickly turn defense into offense.

His forehand is a creative shot which allows him to create bigger openings than most other players can, due to his superior racquet control and improvisation skills. His backhand is a solid shot, but his backhand slice especially short in the court is the great strength, for putting opponents in uncomfortable positions and making it difficult for them to take complete control of rallies.

Federer can be prone to shanking balls because of his quick racquet head speed, though he does this surprisingly rarely as his strong record over the years shows. He is most prone to succumbing to the players that are most difficult to break down, such as Nadal, Murray and Djokovic, that force him into long, competitive rallies.

Rafael Nadal

One of the great competitors of the game, Nadal is famous for his intense approach to the game, and attention-to-detail. Undoubtedly one of his biggest strengths is his willingness to improve his game, his gradual transition to becoming more of a shotmaker and more adaptable to all surfaces.

Nadal's game revolves around his forehand, similar to Federer's, how he can force his opponent to cover large amounts of court with the angles he can create on it due to the topspin.

Nadal never succumbs to impatience, and is an expert at pounding at his opponent’s weakness relentlessly, particularly if that weakness is a right-hander’s backhand. He has a knack of hitting superb passing shots on the run. His backhand crosscourt is an improving shot and he can generate impressive pace on it, usually to his opponent’s surprise. Fitness-wise, he can outlast anyone in the game, which can make it a painful experience for his opponents trying to compete with him.

The best chance for opponents to attack him is through his second serve, which has the tendency to land short on occasions. His forehand defensively can also be a problem on hardcourts, because of his big swings which may force him to catch it late. Nadal’s confidence levels tend to fluctuate over the course of the season, which can make him beatable by the very best players or players playing well on their day.

Novak Djokovic

Djokovic is one of the most complete baseliners in the game. He made a name for himself in 2008 with his superb down-the-line shots and impressive athletic ability, the extra effort he puts in to ensure a deep, effective defensive shot on the full stretch. These days, he possesses a relatively complete baseline game, difficult to outrally or break down. He is capable of grinding out matches when he isn’t playing his best tennis, and his backhand is a technically sound shot.

His second serve is becoming more of a liability these days landing shorter than it used to, and his forehand is not an efficient enough shot which can lead to having its bad days. His forehand seems to struggle particularly when not given pace or height to work with. Djokovic has a tendency of turning difficult matches into dramatic spectacles, which can be his own undoing in bad matches.

Andy Murray

Known for his unique, crafty approach to the game, Murray is one of the few players that utilise the full area of the court, famous for finding his way around his opponents rather than through them. Most of this is through to the creative slice backhand he possesses, inside-out curving outwards or short angled wide, and he is also capable of creating short angles on the forehand side.

His game is a strange combination of low-paced and fast-paced shots, taking his opponents by surprise more often than not. Like Nadal, he has an excellent ability of hitting superb shots on the run, and he has great passing shots. His backhand is his biggest strength, and almost never breaks down. He is extremely consistent and loves long rallies.

Murray is capable of finishing points off at the net, but often prefers not to, moving his opponents around instead. In today’s stronger and more powerful generation, Murray’s lack of power on typical shots can prove to be a problem if not executed perfectly. He can also be overly conservative on return of serve, which works against him on some occasions. His second serve and first serve percentage has also been commonly mentioned as a weakness.

Juan Martin Del Potro

The reason for Del Potro’s success is his lethal combination of power and consistency, the ability to maintain long rallies while remaining aggressive and in control of rallies. He’s accurate, but doesn’t need to hit close to the lines because he’s so powerful. Backed up by a strong serve, Del Potro excels at the simple quick shot combos to kill off short balls, and any weaknesses thrown by his opponents.

He shows good point construction, and is able to sense when he needs to play more aggressively to turn around a match. He’s mentally strong, and becoming increasingly difficult to break down.

His weakness is his foot speed, and his ability to change from defense to offense is not as good as the players ranked above him. He operates best when given a rhythm to work with, and he doesn’t like bending down too often. He is excellent at covering up his weaknesses however, and he doesn’t often relinquish a point he has under his control.

Andy Roddick

The man with the fastest serve in men’s tennis history, Roddick is difficult to break because of his strong first serve percentages and variation on serve – a mixture of pace, kick and slice. The rest of his game is solid and smart, varied enough to make it difficult for his opponents to attack his obvious weakness on the backhand. His strength over the course of his career has been his adventurous approach to his game, the willingness to tinker with various aspects of his game to keep it fresh and relevant.

Roddick can be outrallied by strong baseliners, so it’s always a battle for him to break out of other players’ patterns of play. His backhand, especially as a passing shot is the great weakness as it showed against Isner in the US Open. If serving well and playing confidently, Roddick can be a threat to many players, but the difference between him and the players ranked above him is that he can also lose to moderately ranked players more often, though he rarely loses to low ranked players.

Nikolay Davydenko

For better or worse, Davydenko has a one-size-fits-all approach to the game. Aggressive, early ball-striking based on the idea that if you attack your opponent first, they can’t attack you. Thankfully he is a superb ball-striker and has a great combination of foot speed and footwork.

He can create excellent angles, and is one of the best at changing directions. The key to breaking down Davydenko’s game is to generally throw him out of his rhythm, though it can be a difficult task, but on some days, Davydenko has the capabilities to break down his own game with a rash of errors. Another weakness is that Davydenko doesn’t really possess a change of pace. Fortunately Davydenko is a shot-focused player and will rarely be bothered about his own errors, hopeful that his game might come together quickly.

Fernando Verdasco

Verdasco always had the weapons to become a top player, but didn’t know how to harness those strengths. His strength is clearly his forehand, which he can use to control proceedings, and because of the spin he generates on the ball, he is capable of hitting forceful shots without hitting anywhere near full pace, though he can flatten it out also.

The variety on his forehand is excellent, and tactically he is improving, especially in terms of killing off points under his control, realizing that it doesn’t need to be done in one shot. Given the explosive nature of his forehand, he has a tendency to try to win matches cheaply with his forehand, especially pulling the trigger on the high-risk high-reward forehand down-the-line too much. He has an excellent sliding serve especially on the backhand court, and often serves high first serve percentages.

By tactically playing better, he has removed some of the flashy shotmaking that made him dangerous. His return of serve is solid and consistent, but not that great offensively. He doesn’t utilise an all-court game as much as he should, and sometimes he can be lacking in fire and motivation in matches, though that has also improved.

Jo-Wilfried Tsonga

Tsonga is one of the best short point players in the game at the moment, which allows him to maintain good consistency despite not being as solid of a player as many of his peers. He can create so much damage with the one shot, due to his big forehand as well as his follow-up ability at the net. He has a great transition game, because of his impressive athleticism. Because of his attacking style of play, he is capable of covering his weakness on the backhand, difficult to drag into long rallies.

The weakness for Tsonga is that he doesn’t seem completely sure of what style of play he wants to play, and sometimes doesn’t commit fully to being aggressive, and putting pressure on his opponents. He can also rely too much on his shotmaking, and doesn’t yet know how to grind out matches. His return of serve can be a weakness, especially against better servers.

Robin Soderling

Soderling has been a surprisingly consistent player after his breakthrough run at the French Open, despite not having the characteristics that would suggest he would be one. His game is strongly based on a powerful serve, and he backs it up with a big forehand and solid backhand. Pace of shot and shotmaking are Soderling’s greatest strengths. He can overpower most of his opponents, and has the ability to string together a great return game to break serve.

He's likely the most one-dimensional player in the top 10, not really capable of much subtlety and he can appear to be lunging around the court when moving. The movement to his forehand out wide can be exploited, especially if he has to bend down low, and he has problems moving forward as well. With Soderling, it’s very much a case of sticking to his strengths and he has shown good form and confidence recently which is the key to his success. He is also stronger mentally than he used to be, thanks to the help of his current coach Magnus Norman.

Novak Djokovic mentally breaks down Radek Stepanek

For almost the bulk of the first two sets, Radek Stepanek had Novak Djokovic right where he wanted him, 0-40, three match points to reach the Basel finals. Three mediocre points later, and Stepanek’s window of opportunity was gone. When Stepanek gets tense, everything slows down and he can’t hit anything with pace, or volley with any conviction. That’s the downside of having such flat strokes, you can’t really overexaggerate your groundstrokes and still find decent racquet head speed by adding topspin.

It’s a shame that Stepanek’s game fell off track so rapidly in the third set, because he was playing some extremely smart attacking tennis. Indoor surfaces are great for his game, because taking the ball earlier on the rise, that slight split second difference can make the biggest difference between hitting a defensive shot compared to an approach shot or change of pace/direction, one of his key strengths. He’s so dangerous because you can’t just pin him back and drag him into a drawn-out baseline rally. Then he’s quick to move in on the kill, and finish it off at the net. The way he bounces up and down in between points, it’s as if he’s incredibly light on his feet and it shows when he stretches and lunges around the net with ease.

First game of the match, and Stepanek’s game plan was clear from the beginning. Set up the point with the return of serve, and construct the point from there. He had a couple of break points to start with on Djokovic’s serve, but Djokovic saved them, and it stayed on serve after that. Stepanek was solid on serve, very high first percentage which allowed him to serve-and-volley effectively.

It was even for the most part but the match was played on Stepanek’s terms, that extra piece of inspiration being the key to the slight lead that he built for himself over the course of the two sets. Stepanek is purely a timing player, he relies a lot on it and it’s amazing how well he’s able to change directions on what look like relatively high risk shots. He has a lot of feel for what to do with the ball, and he is excellent at improvising and reading the play.

He doesn’t really play to the score much until things get tight. It’s more like he will have his mind switched on, with the idea of attacking whenever possible but to have the patience to wait for the opportunity to do so. To not do too much on the deep balls, which Djokovic is so good at hitting. He will usually make a fair amount of silly errors but it won’t bother him knowing that he’s playing the right way, as long as he’s not piling up on errors. He’s not one of those players that needs to be consistent to feel good about his game – he feels good about his game by sneaking around all over the court. The more he gets to move and use the whole court, the more fun he’s having.

Djokovic looked mechanical in comparison, simply trying to make every rally into a long baseline rally and attack when he had a clear opening. He didn’t play with intent, and it was as if his mind was on autopilot. I had a feeling that he somehow managed to uninspire himself with that tactic though, having several concentration lapses throughout the match. At least it was clear that Djokovic didn’t mind the hard work, and that mentally he didn’t give away much to Stepanek. I wonder if Todd Martin has been giving him advice to stop with those negative gestures and body language. I also wanted to take a look at Djokovic’s net game, but it’s hard to implement much when you’re playing against an opponent that is often going to make his way up there first.

There wasn’t really all that much of the trademark change of directions that we normally see from Djokovic. When he did it, he did it with care, not as a surprise tactic but more to spread the court. The difference was obvious late in the second set when Djokovic ripped a couple of backhand down-the-line winners, then put his hands in the air as if to say it was the first time he managed to hit that shot the whole match.

Once Stepanek lost his chance to take the match on his three match points, the match reached an anti-climax. Stepanek couldn’t do anything right – dumped volleys tamely into the net and no energy into anything. Now he walks around slowly in between points instead of being his usual bouncy self. When he hits a great shot, it doesn’t mean anything to him and he can’t find ways to appreciate it anymore. His serve was the biggest declining factor, both in terms of pace and percentage and that made him a relatively easy target for Djokovic. He had already mentally checked out for a long time, but the match point summed it all up, with Stepanek tamely attempting a dropshot to put him out of his misery, one that he never felt he had any hope of making.