Congratulations to Roger Federer, winner of the Australian Open, in straight sets over Andy Murray. And why do I bring this up here? Because it’s widely been noted, including at ESPN, that he’s the first dad to win a Grand Slam tennis tournament since 2003.
It’s a silly distinction, of course. Tennis is a young man’s game, more even than most other sports. The best players retire around 32, so most winners are going to be in their twenties, and have probably spent the preceding fifteen years focusing like lasers on their careers rather than on marriage and kids. That’s just demographics, nothing more.
But I like to picture Roger living a more ordinary dad’s life, and fighting his way to a championship against the odds. Flying in from a photo shoot and immediately strapping on a Baby Bjorn to drop off a kid at playgroup. Heading off to breakfast with Anna Wintour , but leaving early because he gets a call that little Myla has been running a fever. Wiping strained peas off that custom-made Nike jacket, the one commemorating three Wimbledon titles. Reaching into his shorts pocket to stow a spare tennis ball for a second serve, only to find a balled-up bib already in there.
Somehow, I doubt it works out exactly like that, but I enjoy the idea all the same.
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