On Historicity

In Philip K. Dick’s The Man in the High Castle, a counterfeiter explains to a customer how historicity is a construct. To drive home this point he presents a lighter, which belonged to FDR, and a replica that does not vary from its authentic referent. The counterfeiter instructs the customer to identify which lighter was once a possession of FDR and which one is merely an imitation. She picks each one up and examines them, but she can’t tell. The historicity of Roosevelt’s lighter does not make it in any way physically distinguishable or “heavier” than the replica. There is no intrinsic quality that belongs to the real object that is lacking in the fake. Historicity cannot be seen or felt.  

This so-called pretend quality, though, is real in sport. You can sense it when you watch certain matches. It’s what makes you feel that you’re a part of something greater than yourself. It’s that thing that makes you feel you’re witnessing history and that the moment you’ve just witnessed will be talked about time and time again.

In the 2015 Basel final, loose games decided the result. Despite taking place between the foremost two paragons of the tennis world, the match had none of the emotion of AO 2009. There has always been respect between Roger and Rafa, but their present phase of rivalry has less urgency. Perhaps the relative flatness is due to the notion that whatever might happen now will not how the rivalry is perceived.

“Fedal” is in a strange immunity zone with regard to History. It’s still considered by some to be the best match up in tennis. Be that as it may, their meeting in the Basel final smacked of an exhibition or a testimonial because it lacked historicity.

The ‘obstacle’ at hand is that both players have achieved living-legend status while they are still playing. Very few athletes experience this oddity. Once you reach a threshold of achievement, what you do afterwards has less heft than what you’ve done in the past. Your will forever be defined by your own history. Coppola doesn’t have to worry about making a bad film. DeLillo doesn’t have to worry about what critics say about his next work. This luxury isn’t afforded everyone. You must have an inordinately successful career to immunize yourself while still adding to your career.

Federer and Nadal can stand to rest on their legendary laurels more than others for the same reasons De Niro’s poor role choices now cannot take away from his illustrious career. Their respective achievements are so immense that any missteps taken can hardly dent perceptions of their greatness. Once you are granted living legend status, it is difficult to have it revoked (barring some Lance Armstrong level scandal) because it is bestowed only to the most deserving.

Hardly anything hinged on the outcome of the Basel final and with little but pride at stake it was difficult to imagine the impact the final score might have on their rivalry. There was a feel good vibe, but much less of the laser focus we grew accustomed to in the era when they consistently met in finals. Even so, there was a sense of awe cloaking the match—the sort that descends when you know you are privy to one of the greatest rivalries in sport of all time. This aura was a halo effect rooted in the undeniable historicity of the rivalry itself, even though the match at hand was not loaded with significance. It was good tennis, but it didn’t reach the next gear of Grand Slam tennis because the circumstances simply did not have enough gravitas to produce it.

Forget that neither player is in his prime anymore. Watching them battle, you felt more that they each wanted to win for tennis rather than for personal glory. With Nadal’s injuries, Federer’s age, and their remarkable records, it must be that they’re out there for love of the game. They do not face make-or-break moments as they did some six or seven years ago. All the tests that separated the “boys from the men” and the “good from the great” have already been passed and recorded. There is less weight of history on them now, as evidenced by the fact that there didn’t seem to be any deep sadness for the loser. Nadal was composed and unemotional when he made his runner-up speech and shook the ball kids’ hands.

Any matches that take place between Roger and Rafa now will necessarily lack historicity because the legend of the rivalry has already been cemented. I read a match report that that explained how the stats from the Basel final could change perceptions of the rivalry. That’s all well and good but, the thing is, without the element of historicity nothing can upend the established and hallowed mythos.