Roger Federer’s Emotional Farewell
What a viral photo of two tennis greats can teach us about friendship, masculinity, and the spirit of sport
The Mandate focuses on topics that men don’t like to talk about. It’s written by Olympic Medalist and frequent Men’s Health contributor Jason Rogers. If you were forwarded this email, subscribe below.
I don’t remember exactly when I began watching Roger Federer play tennis, but I suspect it was the summer of 2005. While still in school at The Ohio State University, I began receiving news clips about the Swissman from my childhood friend, Danny. I wasn’t particularly interested in the sport, but Danny spoke of Federer in such rhapsodic terms that it piqued my curiosity. By that point, Federer had already won a handful of Grand Slams; however, my friend assured me he would win many, many more.
Fortunately, my next trip home to Los Angeles aligned with a major tour event. Danny and I got together in his parents’ den to watch Federer go to work. What I witnessed took my breath away. I always roll my eyes when writers describe star athletes in supernatural terms. However, Federer seemed to understand tennis on a quantum level. It was as if he could sense where the ball was headed before the ball knew its own trajectory. This impossible knowledge allowed him to do impossible things.
Danny was right. And my newfound fandom was just in time to witness Federer’s absurd winning streak — 11 of 16 Grand Slams over the course of four years. However, he could not crack the French Open. Rafael Nadal, the young Spanish phenom, had entered the scene, dealing Federer three consecutive defeats on clay. The two would go to face each other a total of 40 times — 14 of those matches were in the finals of a Grand Slam.
It’s well known that the two have a friendly public relationship; however, if there was any question as to how they feel about their rivalry in private, the issue was cleared up last week. After playing a final doubles match alongside Nadal, Federer officially retired from the sport. There is a touching photo from the ceremonial proceedings that followed. The image features the two tennis greats sitting side by side. Federer’s hand is clasped over Nadal’s. They both have tears in their eyes.
I found the photo profoundly moving for what it evoked about friendship, masculinity, and sport. For one, the image stands in stark contrast to how audiences tend to think about rivalries. Sports marketers often pose athletes gladiatorially alongside phrases like “clash of the Titans” when promoting their events. This suggests that the opponents are enemies on the battlefield, and their skills are their weapons. The media’s tendency to sensationalize trash talk only fuels this war-oriented paradigm. Sadly, conflict fuels algorithms and intrigue. We all love to watch a feud unfold.
And yet, Federer and Nadal always flew above this. Of course, they haven’t always agreed. But they avoided throwing snarky barbs at each other to score a cheap point. The one notable time Nadal criticized Federer, he quickly apologized, realizing the issue should have remained between them. Coaches occasionally told me I was too nice to my opponents during my fencing career. The photo reminded me that you can be a great athlete and a gentleman; you can be a ferocious competitor and still hold your opponents in the highest esteem.
More importantly, competition between men tends to focus on dominance, status, and external reward. And I won’t go as far as to suggest that Federer or Nadal were uninterested in those things; however, I would argue that they value progress above all. Even when the stakes were high, they directed their focus and aggression inward. Winning appeared to be less about being better than the other and more about accessing a previously inaccessible level of play.
I think this is why Nadal and Federer celebrated each other with tears. Nadal’s greatest foil was Federer. Federer’s greatest foil was Nadal. Ending a romantic relationship is like forgetting a language because you longer have access to a shared repertoire of made-up vocabulary and inside jokes. The end of Federer’s career was like a breakup in that it meant the loss of a kinesthetic intimacy that only those two great athletes could share.
The photo also made me think of my retirement from fencing. I did not have the opportunity to give a final speech to a stadium of fans. But my moment was unique in its own way. After backing away from my sport for nearly a year, I decided to attend one last competition in Madrid. I had always loved traveling to the city, as we often went in springtime when people caroused on the streets because the weather was good.
Madrid was also the home of one of my closest pals — a Spanish athlete and Olympian named Jaime Marti. When the day of the competition arrived, I produced a mediocre performance in the preliminaries. After consulting the rankings, I realized that Jaime and I were set to meet in the later rounds. The details are unimportant, but suffice it to say that we did meet, and Jaime won. Afterward, we hugged. Then, I packed up my sweaty equipment one last time.
Roger Federer’s Emotional Farewell
This post was so well-done. I don't follow tennis that closely. I'm glad you brought this to light.
Great post. That image is incredible and so important for people to see. It reminds me of something that I saw this summer while watching the Tour de France. You may have seen it (or maybe not because of algorithms). On one of the later stages, two of the young stars of the sport did something that was completely shocking to me. Jonas Vingegaard and Tadej Pogačar (the reigning champ) were competing for a stage win as well as the ultimate tour win. As they were neck-and-neck on a descent, Tadej fell. Instead of racing off and sealing a victory, Jonas then slowed down to wait for him. Tadej caught up and they touched hands. You can see a replay here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1-gUaeeq3s. It blew me away. We need this type of leadership and role model desperately in this time of division and stoked hate.