When you’re asked to name a champion from Switzerland who plays right-handed and swings that backhand with one arm, chances are your answer will be Roger Federer. And why not? With 17 major trophies that adorn his palatial home with wife Mirka and their two sets of twins (two girls and two boys), when you combine the words “Swiss” and “tennis,” it’s almost always two initials: RF.

Well, not last Sunday. Not when the Serbian world number one named Novak Djokovic was ready to be crowned champion but lost. Novak was on a 28-match winning streak. He hadn’t lost the entire clay court season, winning in Monte Carlo and Rome. In the quarterfinals of the French Open, he embarrassed the 9-time champion Rafael Nadal. Two afternoons later, he met Andy Murray and defeated the Scot in five sets. The only piece of shiny hardware missing from his collection was the one they don’t sell in Paris. Because you have to earn a Roland Garros trophy.

Facing Stanislas Wawrinka in the finals two days ago, Djokovic won the first set. He was 90 minutes and just two sets away from completing a career Grand Slam. Until Stan concocted a mix of powerful Federer-like winners that bewildered Novak. At day’s end, it was a lopsided display of power tennis: While Novak connected on 30 winners, Stan smothered 60.

This wasn’t the first time that Wawrinka was seeded 8th and expected to lose in the championship round. In January of last year, he was such a sure-to-be runner-up that Nadal fans already dreamt of their Spanish maestro winning the Australian Open. Stan stunned Rafa in four sets.

Last Sunday was a replica: he was No. 8 facing No. 1 with the top-seed an almost-undefeated player this 2015. The result? The same shocker: Stan stuns Novak in four.

I got to see the Swiss the other week. After his match against Dusan Lajovic, I entered the press room and was seated on the third row, about 15 feet away from the small stage arranged with one seat ready. Stan enters the room with no fuss. He’s no mega-star in Paris like a Jo-Wilfried Tsonga or a Gael Monfils. In fact, en route to winning seven matches to win Roland Garros, he had to endure beating two Frenchmen and was often derided and booed by the partisan Parisians who longed for their own to triumph.

During the press conference, Stan was relaxed. First, he took questions in English. With zero emotion, he spoke. I don’t even remember what he talked about. He next spoke in French. Samot! I couldn’t understand his fluent French as the mediamen peppered him with queries.

Midway through his interview, I pulled out my phone and snapped a shot. I was quickly approached by a coordinator and told that taking photos was disallowed. Ooops. I didn’t know. I was asked to delete the picture.

Moments after the non-dramatic Q & A, he stood up and walked out of the room — which wasn’t filled to capacity.

Then, as Stan exited, a different atmosphere ensued. The mediamen entered quickly and sat on every available chair. There was a high-strung mood. I soon found out why: like a movie star would enter a hushed room, Mr. Federer gallantly strides inside. There are no claps, obviously; this wasn’t a meet-and-greet with the Roger Federer Fans Club. These were unbiased ladies and gentlemen. But you can’t help the added buzz when he sits across you, face to face.

Ever the gentleman, Roger is polite and respectful. He takes much longer because of more questions.

This happened on Day 3 of the two-week long tournament. And, if you had a crystal ball and predicted that a Swiss would win the men’s title, it wouldn’t have been so surprising. Roger is acknowledged as the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time).

Only this time, the Swiss isn’t Roger. It’s a Swiss who, last year in Paris, lost in the first round and who, entering the finals last Sunday, previously lost 17 of 20 to Novak.

Never mind him wearing the funniest pair of boxer-like shorts, it’s “Stan The Man.”

PARIS — My daily trips riding the Metro and disembarking on Michel-Ange-Molitor to walk 1,100 meters before entering Stade Roland Garros have come to an end. Here are some thoughts on the only Grand Slam event played on clay:

1) If you want a sampling of the same red clay in Paris, there’s one in Cebu. It’s called CitiGreen Tennis Resort and it’s found in Labangon. Operated by Jade Abangan and her team, which includes the Siso siblings (Niño and Em-Em), the two red-clay courts in CitiGreen resemble RG. Both possess the same color. Both are slippery and have sand at the surface. For those who have yet to visit CitiGreen, you must. What’s better in Cebu than in Paris? CitiGreen is indoor.

2) Yesterday, I focused on the power game in men’s tennis. Boom-boom, bang, smash! It’s all about obliterating that ball as hard as one’s muscles could. Well, that’s true. But you know what tactic I’ve also observed here? Finesse. And nobody employs this one-two, power-and-finesse manuever than the world no. 1 Novak Djokovic. It’s called the drop shot. And on clay, it’s essential. Because players stand so far behind the baseline (because of the looping topspin), the occasional drop shot is essential. Djokovic has been using this surprise often. It has worked.

3) How much money does the champion earn? First, you have to win seven times. From the first round until the Finals, you play seven times. The prize: 1.8 million Euro. Multiplied by P50 to a Euro, that’s P90 million. That’s a lot of pesos. (But compared to Pacman’s earnings in Las Vegas, the RG champ, after two weeks of hard-hitting work, his take-home pay is miniscule.) The men and the women receive the same reward — even though the men play 3 out of 5 and the girls play only 2 out of 3. It’s called equal rights. A rightful decision.

4) Did the French invent the game of tennis? Based on my research, it’s possible that the word “tennis” was derived from “tenez.” That’s a French word for “hold” or “take, receive,” which might mean getting ready before one receives the serve.

5) Roland Garros, now on its 114th edition, is the most difficult tennis tournament to win. All matches are best of five. Many turn into marathons, at times running past four hours. The reason: clay-court tennis is tedious. Unlike Wimbledon’s grass or the US and Australian Opens which have fast hard-court surfaces, clay dampens the ball’s speed. That’s why you’ll see back and forth rallies lasting 24 or more shots. It’s physical. It’s sweat-inducing. It’s the most excruciating tenez event.

6) How expensive are the RG tickets? Surprisingly, they’re not overly pricey. During the first days of the week (the best time to visit a Grand Slam), when all the side courts are filled with top names, an Outside Pass entry costs 30 Euro. That’s about P1,500. Not bad for an 11 a.m.-until-8 p.m. stay. For the Philippe Chatrier (center court) tickets, they go for around 60 Euro in the early days. That’s P3,000. Expensive? Sure. But this is a Grand Slam event. For a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it’s worth saving-up for. Of course, when you go to the later rounds (semis and finals), they’re exorbitant: as high as 948 Euro.

7)  Tennis is an outdoor sport but RG has followed the route of Wimbledon and the Australian Open by their plan to install a retractable roof on their center court. This is expected to be finished in 2019. The weather here is erratic. One hour it’s sunny; the next it’s cloudy and drops of cold rain sprinkle the 19 degrees air. The French Tennis Federation is also adding another show (covered) court, all targeted for completion in four years.

8) What’s the food like here in Paris? Bread, pan, baguette, croissant, Pain au lait. I miss our garlic rice and sinugbang baboy.

9) To help popularize RG, the organizers did an ingenious act: right in the middle of the Eiffel Tower (the most “selfied” place on earth), they hung an illuminated giant tennis ball with the words “Roland Garros.” Merveilleux!

(Andreas Solaro/AFP/Getty Images)

PARIS — Height is might. That age-old adage holds true for basketball, swimming, badminton, volleyball and a long list of other sports.

With tennis, height is a tall advantage. You serve from a higher trajectory. You sprint left and reach that backhand faster. Your long legs assist you in that dash to flick the drop shot. When you stretch for a volley, those added inches help.

The average height of the top men’s tennis pro: around 6-foot-1. That’s the height of Roger and Rafa and Pete Sampras. Novak is an inch taller. Andy Murray stands 6’3”. Marin Cilic, the reigning US Open champion and whom I watched from a few feet away this week, has two Eiffel Tower-like legs. He stands 6’6”.

The other day, a giant of a server slammed 219-kph aces against his French opponent. (Although the crowd reveled in their local player’s win.) That American is John Isner, looming tall at 6-foot-10.

Tennis today is different from tennis in the ‘70s or ‘80s. Ushered in by Boom-Boom himself — 6-foot-2 Boris Becker, who continues to be an attraction here, sitting on the stands as his student Novak Djokovic plays — the game today is all-power.

Gone were the days of Ken Rosewall’s slice backhands or Rod Laver’s chip and charge. In the countless hours that I’ve sat by the sideline to watch the professionals at Roland Garros, they do mostly one thing: smother, destroy, crush and butcher. Their weapon of choice is a tennis racket and their unfortunate target is a yellow ball.

In one of the first matches we saw here, I joined Jasmin and Jana in watching Treat Huey. You know Treat! He’s our top Filipino player who’s traveled from America to Cebu several times for Davis Cup action.

Treat and his partner Scott Lipsky won the first set in men’s doubles. We were ecstatic and hoped for victory. Sadly, they lost the next two sets and bombed-out in the first round. Their opponents, two unknowns from Europe, employed a simple tactic: they mutilated the ball. They must have stood 6-foot-4 tall and they just ravaged their shots.

Kei Nishikori is the exception. The Japanese hits clean and hard, but he’s no physical giant. Compared to the Sam Querreys and Ivo Karlovics, he’s small at 5’10”. Yet, he’s winning. He won in Barcelona a few weeks ago and, thus far, he’s into the fourth round in Paris.

At Court Philippe Chatrier earlier this week, I watched him play a dangerous opponent in Thomas Bellucci. He clobbered him in straight sets.

The 25-year-old Kei is an exceptional talent. Given his small physique, he has terrific hands and amazing eye-to-hand coordination. He doesn’t stand 15 feet from the baseline like Nadal; he stands inside the baseline to pound on his ground-strokes. He hits on the rise. That’s why he’s world No. 5 — possibly the highest-ever ranking for an Asian.

CORIC. The best match I’ve seen here: Borna Coric defeating Tommy Robredo in five sets. They played in Court 2 last Thursday and I was fortunate to sit on the third row. Behind me sat Goran Ivanisevic (who, like Coric, hails from Croatia) and three seats to my left was Thomas Johansson, the former Australian Open champion who now coaches Coric.

This kid is a future champ. His serve reaches 205-kph and I like his two-fisted backhand. He steps forward and, armed with a compact swing, delivers a deadly crosscourt drive.

Only 18, he also defeated Sam Querrey in the first round and, if he wins his upcoming encounter against Jack Sock, he’ll meet Nadal in the fourth round — a titillating contest given that Coric upset the Spaniard last year. Watch out for Coric.

AJ LIM. There’s one other Filipino who’s joining here: Alberto Lim, Jr., one of our bright prospects in PHI tennis. He joined the qualifying round of the junior category in Roland Garros but lost a French player.

AJ is only 16 but he was world-ranked 45 last month in the juniors (he’s now 74.). We hope someday that he’ll be the Kei Nishikori of the Philippines.

PARIS — The French are an expressive and artistic people. This was reflected on the tennis courts at the Stade Roland Garros.

In an “Italy vs. France” contest two afternoons ago, the French thumped their feet on the bleachers surrounding Court 7. They stood with arms punching the air. They screamed “Allez!” They clapped to disrupt the Italian and they clapped to uplift their Frenchman. The Italian was Fabio Fognini, world no. 27. Twice this year, he’s beaten Rafael Nadal and was expected to win the slugfest against Benoit Paire. But, no; the locals wanted Paire, who hails from Avignon, to win. Midway through the match, a fight among the spectators ensued. The details were sketchy but it was possibly a local guy throwing a punch to an Italian adversary.

Paire triumphed in Paris. As Fognini exited the stadium in a huff, I stood two meters away. His face looked desolate. His head was pointed down. Inside the court, a different atmosphere reverberated. Paire was signing autographs. The French spectators wouldn’t let him go. Photos and selfies were snapped. It’s as if he won the French Open!

This scene is duplicated each time a Frenchman plays. The day before, my seatmates Jana, Jasmin and I witnessed the same occurrence. An unknown in the tennis world, Maxime Hamou was treated like a rockstar when he played. His famous countryman, Jo Wilfried-Tsonga, sat on the stands to cheer. The crowd jammed the same Court 7, a mid-size arena. Hamou was losing to Jerzy Janowicz (from Poland) but the French wanted him to claw back from the precipice. They did all the cheering that they could — to no avail.

They booed. Yes. Booing here is normal. While, to us, it would seem too harsh or hostile a welcome to a foreign opponent, here it’s okay. They booed Janowicz. When he questioned a line call and approached the umpire, they booed. When he defeated Hamou, 6-7, 6-3, 6-4, 6-4, they booed. When the two players met at the net to shake hands, they didn’t shake hands — they pulled each other’s hands. Janowicz then pointed a finger to Hamou, gesturing for an apology on an earlier incident. They glared at each other. Hamou booed. The crowd booed. It was crazy and unlike anything I’ve seen.

The French are passionate. They were also winners last Wednesday.

Nicholas Mahut played Ernest Gulbis on Court No. 2. I enjoyed watching this match up-close. Gulbis, who comes from Latvia, was ranked as high as 10 in the world. He was expected to romp into victory against the Frenchman. But again, the crowd roused him to snatch the prize. Mahut won in four sets. Same with no. 12 seed Gilles Simon, winning against Martin Klizan.

Over at Court Suzanne Lenglen (named after an 8-time Grand Slam champion who reigned in the early 1900s), it was another Frenchman: Tsonga. Everybody loves Tsonga — including those who watched him play the International Premier Tennis League (IPTL) in Manila, where he represented the Philippine Mavericks.

Tsonga is forever smiling. He’s a young-looking version of Muhammad Ali who clasps not boxing gloves but a tennis racket. Wearing all-black and looking like Batman on the red clay, he slammed aces and fired crosscourt winners. He was a winner against Dudi Sela.

But nothing beats Gael Monfils. On Court Philippe Chatrier, the 6-foot-4 Monfils was Goliath. He faced a player nine inches shorter in 5-foot-7 Diego Schwartzman. On paper, this was a no-contest. Monfils is the 13th seed while the Argentine lingers at 57.

But in the David vs. Goliath clash, it was the diminutive Argentine who was winning. He won the first set 6-4. Monfils battled back to win the second. In the third, Schwartzman won 6-4. Holding a two sets to one lead, the crowd grew tense. But, energized by the partisan Parisians, Monfils won the next two sets, 6-2, 6-3, punctuating the win with an ace on match point.

“Today I won because I had the crowd behind me,” Monfils said. “They give me, let’s say, some wings.”

(Clive Brunskill/Getty Images Europe)

PARIS — This is the question that lingers in everyone’s minds here.

On his first visit inside Roland-Garros, the 19-year-old triumphed. Every May and June since 2005, he hasn’t lost. The only aberration was in 2009 when he lost in the fourth round to Robin Soderling, the Swede who has since being plagued by injury. In all, that’s 66 matches won in 67 tries.

Rafa has been victorious 9 times and he’s going for that double-digit here in Paris. Can he make it? From what I saw about four rows up on the stands inside the center court, the answer is Yes.

If Floyd Mayweather, Jr. calls MGM Garden his personal garden and if Michael Jordan soared in his airspace called the United Center in Chicago — then Stade Roland Garros is the home away from the Mallorcan home of Rafa.

Court Philippe Chatrier, their center court here, is not massive. I’ve been inside the Arthur Ashe Stadium and that 22,547-seater complex is humongous. While typing this, I’m looking around the rectangular-shaped arena and it’s magnifique. Green seats abound. Glass-enclosed partitions cover the TV booths. Digital screens sit on corners displaying scores. Down below, where, on a full-capacity house, the 14,840 pairs of eyes will focus, is the centerpiece tennis court.

It’s color brown. Officially, it’s “red clay” but, to my brown eyes, they’re brown. What makes this court different is the back-stop. It’s that open space behind the baseline. It’s a huge area — the ideal canvas where Nadal weaves his magic.

I watched Nadal’s match here on a “Super Tuesday.” Why super? Because you’ve got three salivating matches: Nadal first, Novak Djokovic next, followed by Serena Williams.

Rafa played a Frechman named Quentin Halys. The organizers couldn’t have picked (by the luck of draw) a better first-round opponent for the Spaniard. The French here, obviously the majority who watch, are fiercely patriotic. They clap; no, make that they “chant while clapping.” In unison, they all clap like a symphony orchestra to motivate their local guy. Because while they cheered for their adopted Parisian named Rafa, they cheered even louder for Halys. In the end, while the 18-year-old produced his slew of winners, he was no match to Rafa. The score: 6-3, 6-3, 6-4.

Djokovic followed. Wearing an orange shirt by Uniqlo, he looks supremely confident and tall at 6’2”. He should be. He’s been almost undefeated this entire season, including a win at the Australian Open last January. He’s won 8 Grand Slam singles titles but never the French Open. Twice, in 2012 and last year, he reached the final only to be thwarted by Rafa.

Will 2015 be Novak’s year? As much as I’m a confessed Rafa fan — I count Bobby Aboitiz, Frank Malilong, Fabby Borromeo, Ernie Delco, Bobby Lozada, Noy and Amale Jopson, and Fr. Joy Danao in the same camp — I think Rafa will lose next week. He’s ranked a lowly 7 and, by the bad luck of the draw (he himself picked the ball during the Draw Ceremony), he’ll meet Djokovic in the quarterfinals. That will be titanic. It’s sad that the two have to meet so early; but then maybe Rafa will leave in the same stage as he did against Soderling.
I closely watched Novak’s game and while he trailed 2-5 against Jarkko Nieminen, he clawed his way back to win in straight sets. The Serb has no weaknesses. His backhand is better than his forehand. His return of serve is as good as Agassi’s. His mind, that unseen mass that determines a win or loss, is as strong as Lance Armstrong on the bike. Like most here, I’m voting for him to win next Sunday.

Around here, you’ll see tennis greats lingering. Boris Becker occupies his usual spot at the players box. I watched how he took off his red jacket when the weather warmed. Seated four seats away was Novak’s wife, the blonde and beautiful Jelena. She wasn’t interested in her husband. She fiddled away with her phone.

In Rafa’s camp, the Spanish armada was all-present: coach/uncle Toni, Rafa’s parents, and his girlfriend, the beauteous Xisca Perello.