Why I hate Roger Federer

I hate Roger Federer. He raises my blood pressure, causes stress, the occasional sleepless night and makes Sunday evenings horrible. I’m just recovering from the French Open and here comes Wimbledon.

Just before the final at Roland Garros started I said, “I can’t hack a 5 set match. I hope it doesn’t go there.” I got berated by a friend, “What do you mean you can’t hack it? If you don’t want to watch it, don’t.”

Then there were others who said, “I hope it’s a close one. Will be fun.”

Will be fun? Getting an ulcer is fun? Heart skipping beats is fun?

There were those who before the tournament even started said another Roger-Rafa final “would be amazing.” I felt like knocking them on the head with a club.

Sorry, I can’t take it anymore.

The surgeon general needs to show a warning to Roger fans that watching his matches will cut a couple of months off your life expectancy.

Roger is a tease and an emotional roller coaster that few can handle. He goes up 5-2 and then loses the set. He wins the third set, has three
break points in the opening game of the fourth and then loses the game.

He sets you up and you don’t even know it. At first he looks brilliant: you start high fiving your friends, rag on the Rafa fans and shout like your own kid is about to shake hands with the Duke.

Then he takes you down. A miss-hit that sees the ball flying in to the crowd, an easy volley netted and suddenly you start shouting “Why does he do this?”

Mirka Federer puts her face between her hands and you do the same. That's why I hate Roger Federer.

Sure, he is the greatest ever to play the game. The way he glides on any surface makes you wonder if he’s putting in any effort at all. Sometimes the angles he hits the ball are unseen on a tennis court. But is this worth risking your health for?

Sure, I own 3 different RF caps, but what does it matter? He’s still a thorn in my Sunday.

When the Federer-Djokovic semi final at the French was done I was running around my house screaming with excitement. I felt the sun was shining for the first time in a while – until I realized that I would be sick to my stomach two days later thanks to the final.

Wimbledon starts next week. Am I going to cheer for him? Hope he goes all the way? Cry if he loses, shout if he wins? Cringe when he miss hits, high-five after a winner?

You’re damn right I am. But I still hate Roger Federer.

This piece was first published at www.gqindia.com