I wrote 'THE ROTTERDAM SAGA" during his match with Murray on the finals of Rotterdam Open last February 2009.

The Rotterdam Saga

yours and andy's scores
on my pad, noting down
i started with concern
with how flip-flap the points
went- first set, 10 games
done in 38 minutes and more seconds
6-3 your foe scored.

second set, my fingers numbed
with my heart pumping
with a speed faster than verdasco's
at AO's fastest serve smashed
and felt my body tensed as the umpire
shouted TIME , half-run, half-walk steps
that familiar sight i eyed with pain.

first game, second set
15 points went murray's
next 15 all, but murray answered
30 all, which ably you countered
and continued with your struggle
to convert match points in your favor
calming down, my blood pressure.

second game, second set
15-love goes your way
aggressive was murray
to claim the title in this battle
so resolute was he
that only you got away
with 3 scores, tallying 1 all.

third game, second set
your serve, walking towards
the umpire confirmed what i feared
was a right-knee injury troubling
you no end, past the first game of the set
brave you had always been
surrender not entertained.

break came, an injury time-out
oh nooooooo, my thoughts raced
unknowingly my tears oozed
soaking my pad with stain
mixed emotions started rambling
your safety was what mattered
this soul was so concerned.

fourth game, second set
right knee seemed to have responded
to the massage you received
served and returned volleys you held
giving you 3-1, 2 points lead
yet comfortable i wasn't
gnashing my teeth, as to God I prayed.


fifth game, second set
murray being more aggressive
like a lion devouring its prey
hacking the ball to corner angles
just impossible for your reach
with an ace, murray have you gulped
finishing 3-2, closing in to my liking.

sixth game, second set
slight ahead of your foe
mind over body seemed running
in your head as you concentrate
fighting on, fighting on, your spirit
never bending, never wavering
making 4-2, a wounded out-scoring.

seventh game, second set
your foe came a-leaping
berserk ready for the killing
more than a couple of hundred
kilometers for an hour, the serve speed
helpless, you could only wobble
4-3 score, to the net the ball hitting.

eighth game, second set
with intensity of a fighting ninja
launched, pounded, never beaten
wounded, went on fighting
subdued fans intently watching
and uncle toni's face twisting
I wrote 5-3, silently sobbing, .

ninth game, second set
came the roaring lion
once again, on the killing
no mercy for his helpless prey
your every move cornered
ball direction anticipated
edging it right over the net.

tenth game, second set
in your best element
to your foe, the hard hit ball went
with 157 km/hr velocity
a single point, murray denied
6-4, the set ended, the crowd gaping
fans routing, mariska dancing.

now came the third set
the previous one, i understood
by all cost won, inking
a statement that you could
if the body is in synch
with a stubborn will
never surrender, it keeps haunting.

on the 3rd set, cease, i did writing
on the tear-soaked pad as i was grieving
for the wounded man on the court
limping, in excruciating pain, yet fighting
to dictates of reason, mindless
a real CHAMP , prove what else it does
nothing more, nothing more, my Rafa, raging!

in rotterdam's history of tennis
yours and andy's final match
to nobody's standard, not an epic one
but difficult to erase, nonetheless
for two wounded men played
one's knee-troubled, the other 's ankle sprained
neither one giving up fighting

finished to its end, the final battle .
The Rotterdam Saga, rightly, i could call



Hope it will be my last sad poetry about Rafa.