God, make me the perfect tennis player please

Make me the perfect tennis player. The kind of player that the world will never, ever see again after my time is over. The kind of a player that will ensure noises comprising ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ when I play. The kind of player that would make royalty feel like the common man. Make me someone whose movement would make running seem like gliding. Make me someone who’d have that uncanny ability to make the split second before the ball is struck freeze, so the game of tennis seems as easy as judging a Justin Beiber song from a scale of pathetic to kill myself.

If you’d like me to be more specific God, I’ll help you out. I’ll start off with groundstrokes.

Give me the forehand of Rafael Nadal. Let my forehand have that devastating trademark of looping into the court no matter where it’s struck from. I’d like this particular wing to have the kind of reach that makes attempting to wrong foot me towards my FH side immaterial. Just as Rafa has a choice whether he wants to hit a typical 3000 RPM topspin forehand that requires his opposition to move ten miles behind the net to try and hit it, or hit a flat powerpacked forehand that requires a 3000 FPS to see it in slow motion, I too would want both those qualities in this stroke.

It was tough to decide, but break down my backhand to be a mixture of Novak Djokovic and Andy Murray. Give me the innate sense of counter-punching Murray has been gifted with. Where he can lower his shoulder and twitch his wrist to make the ball fly for a clean winner. I’d also want Djokovic’s ability to stand like a rock and stretch like a reticulated python before striking a ball that would require any other tennis player to take at least a two-step sprint, near the far backhand corner of the court. I sometimes look at how Djokovic steps towards a ball top-spinning two feet above his shoulder, instead of running back and calmly proceeds to hit it wherever he wants and I question physics. Let me do all this with the grace of Richard Gasquet, who’s backhand is to tennis followers what Megan Fox is for software engineers. Names such as Marat Safin and David Nalbandian creep into my mind while discussing this wing, but I’m sure the added qualities of the above mentioned three athletes would make the stroke fairly impenetrable.

It would be highly irregular, but the slice should do what Stephanie Graf does from the moment she decides to weave magic off that stroke to the end. Yes, I know we’re making the best male player here but I feel that her level of mastery with this stroke is second to none, in both men and women. I’d insult the game if I asked you to even consider anyone else.

The lob should mirror Lleyton Hewitt’s masterpiece. It finds it’s own way in the court after it’s been struck. Lobs are rare, and Mr.Hewitt seems to redirect almost all of them in place.

The volley? No, I haven’t forgotten. Let’s make this a montage of people here. By cementing together the best of Pete Sampras, Patrick Rafter and Stefan Edberg for basic defence, I know I’d have the cumulative talent to not be passed unless someone knocks me out with a baseball bat. This would make me too powerpacked? Fair enough, throw in two teaspoons of Michael Llodra French classiness and three cups of John McEnroe’s touch. I don’t really need anything more now, but I’m a thorough person-let’s move to the service.

Here, I seem to be faltering. I want the raw power of an Ivanisevic or a Karlovic on the first. The impact of my first should be a sick trajectory which makes a small hole where it bounces and flies for an ace. Should it touch a part of the opponents body, it should render him unconscious. For the second, I should be in a position where like Sampras, the service should fly for an ace at will. Let the second be threatening enough that the opponent doesn’t dare to move even an inch towards the baseline after the first.

What’s left? The return. Agassi- God, Andre Agassi is the name, I believe. Do I need to go further? Agassi owns a time machine. He stops time, or it definitely slows down before the ball touches his racket and bullets off for a winner. It’s impossible to return first services from the likes of Andy Roddick or Pete Sampras till a certain percentage of sorcery is involved. Agassi seems to do it, I’ll brandish my hexes too.

Allow me to add the finishing touches now. Movement’s left. Tell you what- Nadal, Monfils, Lendl, any of them are good. I’m not going to be choosy here. But ensure my fitness level is like Borg’s where I can calmly go for a marathon after a five setter and sleep without a hint of exhaustions.

Let me face opponents like Jimmy Connors, with complete disregard for who they are as far as the rankings are concerned, at the same time, let me respect all my fellow peers like Bjorn Borg. Let me face matches like Rafael Nadal-with no space for losing and match points like Novak Djokovic-where bad luck and the best of my game disappear and appear respectively. Give me the humour of Andy Roddick while dealing with the press, and make sure my level of sportsmanship never goes below Mr.Edberg’s.

May clay embrace me like Nadal, Wilander and Borg, Grass like Sampras and Borg and Cement like Connors and Sampras again.

Oh, and ensure that at the peak of my form, no one can touch me- like Safin. I do however wish to have the unflappable demeanor of Iceborg Bjorn, where nothing around can affect me while I play.

You know what God, to sum things up…make me Roger Federer.

Thanks,

A Fan.