Page 49 of Match Point

“The momentum keeps shifting like a yo-yo,” I said as the two players rested before the start of the fifth and final set. “Every time deGrom breaks a serve, Carfrae storms right back to stay in the match. I’m excited to see what these two players have left in the tank for the final set.”

“If there’s anything left in the tank at all,” my broadcast partner said. “We’ve had some long points today, and both players look exhausted. The winner might be the man who can dig deep and find another well of energy.”

Despite the drama of the first four sets, the fifth did not disappoint. Tristan won his own serve, then broke Dominic’s serve immediately. After winning his serve again, he took a decisive 3 - 0 lead.

But Dominic refused to give up. He tracked down every ball, fighting for every single point. He won his serve twice and broke Tristan in the middle to tie it up 3 - 3. After breaking Tristan’s serve a second time, and holding his own serve once again, Dominic found himself up 5 - 3, just a game away from winning the match.

Now it was Tristan’s turn to fight. He scrambled across the court, sliding on the clay surface. On a drop shot that barely made it over the net, he ran forward and dove for the ball. He didn’t get the point, but he was covered in dirt from the play and endeared the crowd to him for the effort. He grinned and gave a little shrug, which made the fans cheer even louder.

Overall, the fifth set took longer than any of the others. But it wasn’t enough, and Dominic defeated Tristan, 6 - 4.

I was a confusing jumble of emotions as I watched the end. I was happy for Dominic of course, but my heart went out to Tristan.

“A satisfying battle from two of the greats,” I said in the booth as they shook hands. “Dominic deGrom advances to the finals where he will face Gabriel Moreau.”

“A rematch of the Australian Open final earlier this year,” my partner said. “But this time on a surface where Moreau has the clear advantage.”

“It will be an exciting match for sure.”

After all of my broadcast work was done, I went down to the tunnels underneath the stadium. Dominic was in the press room, answering questions from the media. I watched him for a bit until Tristan emerged from his locker room.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He gave me a puzzled look. “Why?”

“Well,” I said, “I hate being the one to tell you this, but you lost the match.”

Tristan laughed genuinely. “Clay isn’t my best surface. I’m really happy that I took Dominic to five sets.” He shook his head and glanced at one of the security guards standing in the hallway. “I really thought I had him when I was up three games in the fifth. But your boyfriend shifted into another gear. He deserves it.”

“Don’t say that,” I hissed, looking around. The security guards didn’t seem to have heard. “He’s not my boyfriend, any more than you are. But I’m happy you’re happy.”

“I’m happy just to be healthy,” he said, and I could tell he meant it. “I lost because Dominic was the better player today, not because I was injured. The crowd was rooting for me at the end, too. That felt good. I needed that.” He let out a happy sigh. “Ireallyneeded that.”

“You’re poised for a deep run at Wimbledon next month,” I said. “You’ve always been strong on grass.”

“I’m not thinking about Wimbledon just yet.” He lowered his voice. “I’m thinking about tonight. Now that I’m eliminated, we can have some fun.”

We were just two professionals chatting. Nobody around us knew what we were saying based off our body language. “We’ve been having plenty of fun throughout the tournament.”

“Yeah,” Tristan said with a glimmer in his eyes. “But now that I’ve lost? I don’t have to hold back anymore. See you tonight, love.”

He winked at me and left me standing there as he went into the press room.

24

Dominic

“It’s all right,” I said to Manuel on the phone. “It’s not your fault. These things happen.”

“Yes, but I am feeling quite guilty,” my doubles partner replied. “I thought I would be healthy enough to play with you at Wimbledon, but my knee has not healed the way I expected…”

“Again, it’s not your fault,” I insisted. “This will be good. Maybe I’ll drop doubles entirely and focus on singles. I appreciate you calling to let me know, but it’s all right.”

We chatted for a few more minutes before I hung up. A lot of players didn’t play doubles matches at all. Especially as their careers progressed; most wanted to focus on their singles career. But I preferred to stay sharp. I didn’t play doubles ateverytournament, but I usually did at Wimbledon and the US Open, my two strongest tournaments. I had won two doubles championships with my partner Manuel, and felt like I had a few more in me before I retired.

But Manuel was still injured. So much for that plan. Hopefully he would be healthy enough when the US Open rolled around.

I laid back in bed, but I couldn’t sleep. My mind was racing now—with the Manuel news, and because of the French Open final tomorrow. After tossing and turning, I texted one of the few people who knew what I was going through.

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