Roddick Staves Off Retirement With a Win

For stretches after Andy Roddick’s latest victory, the one that extended his farewell tour at least another two days, he seemed unsure how to react — what to do and how to celebrate.

This whole retirement thing is new to him, after all.

He clapped. He blew kisses. He waved. He sat in his chair and leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He threw a treasure trove of souvenirs into the crowd: shirts, towels, wristbands, even a racket. He answered questions. He received a standing ovation.

The Roddick goodbye party continued Sunday at the United States Open, three days after he announced that this tournament would be his last. It continued against a colorful Italian named Fabio Fognini, he of the bright yellow shirt and lined beard and animated gestures, the friend Roddick downed, 7-5, 7-6 (1), 4-6, 6-4, to advance to the fourth round.

“Anybody retire here?” Roddick asked in an on-court interview. “You want to tell me. ...”

His voice trailed off, choked with emotion, the product of another afternoon spent in the unknown. For most of his teenage years and all of his adult life, Roddick hit a fuzzy yellow ball over a net. This particular skill took him all over the world, earning him praise, particularly for his 2003 United States Open triumph, and criticism, largely for the lack of major championships that followed, and for his status as the best of an American men’s tennis generation that either underachieved or came of age in the wrong era.

Then came Thursday, his 30th birthday, and the evening Roddick made his intentions clear. Unable to continue meeting the physical demands of the ATP Tour, unwilling to put the time that he once did into tennis, Roddick said he would retire after this Open concluded, no questions asked, no chance he would change his mind.

Someone asked Roddick if he could pull together a dream run, like the one he watched Jimmy Connors embark on in 1991, when Connors was 39. Roddick said he wished he had a choice.

Instead, his choice was to play, and play he did. Roddick beat Bernard Tomic of Australia in straight sets Friday to set up the meeting with Fognini, which Roddick began by quickly going up two sets.

“It was loud out there,” Roddick said. “About as loud as I remember.”

For Roddick, the sentimental favorite, Fognini provided a perfect foil. He looked like a pirate, and he screamed at the chair umpire. He angrily threw a towel in the vicinity of a ball boy, and smacked a ball so high in frustration on a changeover that it nearly lstruck Roddick’s head.

Earlier in the match, Roddick attacked Fognini when he served, charging the net, finishing off volleys. Yet, as Roddick crept closer to victory, he ventured forward less and stayed back more and played too often off his back foot, a frequent criticism of him in recent years.

The players traded service breaks early into the fourth set. Fognini talked to himself. Roddick continued to yell, “Come on!” Roddick later said he played more aggressively because he struck the ball well, which allowed him to come forward.

At 3-3, Fognini lost two -consecutive challenges, gifting Roddick another break point. Fognini then missed a forehand.

Roddick later served for the match, and with each point he won, the crowd roared louder. Twice in the final game the umpire called for quiet. The match time went over three hours as Roddick unleashed his final serve. Again, it threw Fognini off balance.

Afterward, Fognini said Roddick served “unbelievable,” especially on the crucial points. “He has no pressure now,” Fognini added. “He was really aggressive, nothing to lose.”

Except that is not really true. If you believe Roddick, if he does not win the tournament, the next match he loses will be his last, at which point he will lose his vocation, part of his self-identity and much of his fame.

There will be no more opponents, like Fognini, to ask for Roddick’s shirt when the games end. No more crowds begging for his autograph. No more news conferences to spar with reporters.

“I’m not able to articulate it, but I’m trying not to overthink it,” Roddick said of the few days since he announced he would retire. “I’m trying to be as simplistic as possible.”

That meant Roddick shortened his practices and concentrated on recovery. He planned to get a massage on Sunday night, to rest. He is 30 after all.

Roddick will need it. The draw gets exponentially tougher from here. In the fourth round, he will face Juan Martín del Potro, the Open champion in 2009, the last player not named Roger Federer or Novak Djokovic or Rafael Nadal to win a major tournament. Should Roddick upset del Potro, he will very likely face Djokovic, the second seed, in the quarterfinals.

“I know this is special for him,” del Potro said. “But this is my job. If I play in a high level, it will be tough. The crowd loves Andy here and has respect for me. So it will be a great show.”

In the on-court interview immediately afterward, when the reporter asked Roddick about Del Potro, a murmur ran through the crowd. The spectators knew the challenge that lay ahead.

Roddick said he would try his best to beat Del Potro, to stay in the moment and maintain control over his emotions. He could fail on all counts, or succeed at only one. Roddick said he and Del Potro, with big serves and similar skills, usually play each other close. Roddick’s injured shoulder, which he compared to hamburger meat, felt “not great,” but “good enough.”

Regardless, as he prepared to leave Arthur Ashe Stadium on Sunday, officials cued Journey on the stadium loudspeakers. The song, “Don’t Stop Believin’,” rang throughout the grounds. For Roddick, in this tournament, it seemed appropriate.

Roddick sauntered down the tunnel and into the locker room. Retirement, for at least another two days, could wait.

“It’ll be here before we know it,” he said.