The lethality of silent aggression

You perhaps missed the most important point from Nadal's loss in an epic match at Wimbledon. It went beyond sports.

When the final ball was called out, Muller stood there very slightly agape, staring at his celebrity opponent. The slow blink and a flash of reality sinking in were the only emotions he would betray in nearly five hours on the court. The cameraman zoomed into him to capture the victory look, something that the channels could play again and again later on. But there was no pumping of fists or angry growls. The waves of emotions that Nadal is known to display do not touch the shores of Muller's psyche. He stood there, finally smiling.

Until five years ago, I used to thoroughly enjoy the aggression of sportsmen and the colors of rivalry that spilled out in swear words, muttering under the breath, and smashing of racquets. But with age, one looks at the sweeps of victory and defeat as mere tides on the eternity of the life of an ocean. What can be uplifted by a roar can also be submerged by self-doubt. One winner and the player is skipping. Another fault and he is staring in agony. Crowd goes nuts when players let their emotions flood out in the arena but a champion realizes how that means wasting away the most important thing he needs - energy and focus.

Coming back from two sets down, Nadal had the crowd and chances stacked in his favor. Fifth set is usually his forte; after all, he is the Spanish bull. He just refuses to give in. If you just look at the scorecard, you would think that it is Nadal who would have outlasted in such a marathon of a game. 13-15 is a nightmare and the set ran longer than full Cilic match. Nadal pounded hard with his characteristic unrelent. He challenged umpire calls frequently, riled up the crowd and, to his credit, played well.

The guy on the other side of the net walked evenly after every game, his gait unaffected by any agitation or turmoil of a nerve wrecking game. Having lost last two sets did not seem to weigh upon him. He would serve solid and kept returning on Nadal's serve. He would sneak 4 match points (almost 1.5 hours apart) and losing any of those will not bend his shoulders low. He would play the next point with same precision and poise. Commentators loved to call him the poker-face. Of course, composure cannot make up for skill but it can transform skill into a weapon of kill.

What appears to be a lack of aggression is in fact, a very high quality of aggression - the zen of aggression where the energy is channelised into the play and not externally. And that is what makes people who can do that, so very lethal. Muller was practicing mindfulness on the court where he was oblivious to the crowd cheers, fading light, Rafa's offense and pressure of defeating one of the greatest in the history of Tennis. Those statistics, probabilities, and records are for commentators and analysts. The only thing that should matter to a player is - playing this point to the best of your ability. The onus of past and anticipation of future does not matter.

Nadal, who is typically very courteous and warm in hugging his opponents, until the end, appeared frazzled and could only tentatively nod at Muller when they met on the net. His hug was that of an unruly kid being set right by his dad without raising his voice. He was yet to make peace with not only the defeat but the manner in which it was served. I doubt if Muller is going to pop a champagne either - it does not matter. If he can walk into the next match with same Bodhi mind, I will be very concerned for his opponent.

It is this form of aggression that I have grown to appreciate in my 30s. It is delicious, it is wasteless and it is lethal.