WATCHING the men's semi finals of the French Open yesterday was like being promised a visit to Paris and then having to make do with a day out at Blackpool. Nice tower, pity about the food and wine.
As John McEnroe, here to commentate for NBC, so succinctly put it: "Pete Sampras must be sitting at home and tearing his hair out."
Les vendeurs a la sauvette (touts to you and me) were doing anything but brisk business in the morning. A French variation on "tickets, who wants tickets?" struck an almost mournful tone.
The police tolerate their presence, just as they tolerate the professional women of the Bois de Boulogne, adjacent to Roland Garros, most of whom are Brazilian.
As a French radio tennis commentator pointed out, meeting a Brazilian on the Bois during the last two weeks has been a doubly risky business.
Gustavo Kuerten arrived unknown and unsung, and even now there is some dispute how to pronounce his name - KWHERE-ten according to the ATP. No matter. On a warm, humid afternoon, reminiscent of Rio in the winter, he reached tomorrow's final with a 6-1 3-6 6-1 7-6 win over Belgium's own version of the unknown tennis player. Filip Dewulf.
The Brazilian's grandmother, of German origin, arrived to see him yesterday, armed with the usual advice for her "little Guga". "My coach almost lost his job today," joked Kuerten.
Kuerten dropped the second set after leading 3-1, but it was only a temporary blip. The sheer power of Kuerten's forehand, together with his greater range of shots, persistently unbalanced Lewulf.
Pat Rafter, who by his own admission has been amazed by his success here, took the first set off Spain's Sergi Bruguera, but thereafter the Australian's serve and volley game was finally buried beneath the red clay as he lost 6-7 6-7-5 7-6.
So Bruguera saved the face of the seeds, a dozen of whom exited before the start of the second week. The 26-year-old Spaniard hardly has the charisma of a champion, yet he won the title here in 1993 and 1994 and may do so again tomorrow afternoon.
Meanwhile, Croatia's Iva Majoli, who woke up with a fever the night before she won her semi-final against Amanda Coetzer here on Thursday, might be forgiven for entering today's final in a cold sweat.
Martina Hingis, in between falling off horses, has won six titles this year,
She had her own doubts before Paris that her left knee, which needed surgery after her latest equine accident, might not hold up to the rigours of a Grand Slam fortnight. But her 6-7 7-5 6-4 semi-final victory over Monica Seles dispelled such fears.
It Hingis wins today, and it is virtually impossible to make out a case against her, she will not (for once) have the "youngest ever" tag tied to her victory. Seles won at Roland Garros when she was 16 years and six months, some three months younger than Hingis.
Yet so mature is Hingis on court, and so worldly off it, that her age hardly seems a factor in her astonishing rise. "I just think of her as another player. I know she's great, but when I go out in the final I'm not going to think about that," said Majoli.
The 19-year-Croatian spent much of her early tennis life in Florida, working with the ubiquitous Nick Bollettieri, and set her own template for the future which committed her to steady rather than spectacular progress.
Two years ago she reached her first Grand Slam quarter-final at Roland Garros, losing to Japan's Kimoko Date, and last year she again reached the final eight both here and in the Australian Open. Inconsistency has been the main problem for Majoli, who many perceived, prior to the sudden rise of Hingis, as a possible number one.
The two have met three times previously, all indoors, with the scores underlining Hingis's extraordinary rise. At the beginning of last year Majoli defeated the Swiss player 3-6 6-3 6-0, but early winter in New York saw Hingis turn this score around with a 6-2 4-6 6-1 victory. Their last meeting was in Paris this February, Hingis winning 6-1 6-3.
Anticipation, balance, and a wonderful range of shots - Hingis makes tennis look easy. "I've really got nothing to lose," said Majoli. "All I can do is play the best tennis of my life." Even that is unlikely to be enough.
