You got served

Watching Rafael Nadal slide down his chair during a news conference — a victim of muscle contractions that seized his right leg — was surreal to say the least. (Was the Spaniard play-acting the latest Internet in-joke? Was he hiding from Voldemort?) It’s not every day that you get to see the world’s top tennis star, who is very imposing on the court, show such vulnerability. Then again, that’s the thing with cramping: It’s both painful, and painful to watch.

As the US Open draws to its spectacular close early next week — two duelists, one winner, roll credits! — it seems that you can’t go two minutes without hearing about a racquet-wielding hotshot and his or her off-court personality. Before Rafa Nadal’s very public spasms dominated the 24-hour news cycle, for instance, Novak Djokovic was in the spotlight.

Holding court: In Wes Anderson’s 2001 film The Royal Tenenbaums, Luke Wilson plays Richie Tenenbaum, a former tennis star with serious style.

The 24-year-old — easily the planet’s most famous Serb and the man to beat at the finals — is becoming as famous for his YouTube impersonations of women’s world No. 4 Maria Sharapova as he is for his first-serve percentage. His rivals may not find the jokes funny, but you can’t deny that the lean, mean tennis machine has given the inherently robotic sport a quirky, human dimension.

Sport and style

Aside from hyping this year’s Fashion’s Night Out, this month’s American Vogue is also devoting a few of its precious pages to a new crop of male tennis hopefuls: Bernard Tomic, 18, Australian; Milos Raonic, 20, Canadian; and Ryan Harrison, 19, American. The enduring glossy understands the connection between sport and style and has, over time, become a proven sanctuary for Wimbledon sensations. To wit: Andy Murray, Juan Martin Del Potro, Venus and Serena Williams, and Gaël Monfils — ranked 7th in the world — have all been given the Vogue treatment at one point or another.

The Djoker: Some of his rivals may not always appreciate Novak Djokovic’s impersonations of his fellow players, but the Internet surely does.

 Anna Wintour, rumored to get her game on nearly every morning before darkening the halls of Condé Nast, appears to have a thing for tennis players. Roger Federer, now one of her BFFs, has admitted to consulting with the Prada-wearing devil about his ensembles. Caroline Wozniacki, the 20-year-old Danish dynamo who serves as the face for Adidas by Stella McCartney, has likewise caught her eye. Could Bethanie Mattek-Sands, known as the Lady Gaga of tennis, be the Vogue editrix’s next big crush? That would be hilarious, but seriously I doubt it. 

Oh, hey, Richie Tenenbaum

Hit parade: 20-year-old Milos Raonic, Canada’s highest-ever ranked player, is part of Vogue’s list of young tennis hopefuls at the US Open. AP

In Wes Anderson’s The Royal Tenenbaums, Luke Wilson played Richie Tenenbaum, a former tennis champ with chic luggage, a Björn Borg-style headband and a pet falcon, while Gwyneth Paltrow was Margot Tenenbaum, who communicated a preppy bohemian vibe through a Lacoste tennis dress, a Fendi mink coat and dark brown loafers. All this talk of tennis, and the style inspiration that comes with it, suddenly made me think of that film, released unbelievably in 2001. It also made me pay more attention to Vampire Weekend’s clever video for 2010’s Giving Up The Gun, which featured Jake Gyllenhaal and Joe Jonas in a dreamlike tennis match. Were they wearing Fila or was that Sergio Tacchini?

Sporadic spasm: Rafael Nadal reacts to pain from a severe leg cramp during a press conference in New York. AP

Anyway, I played tennis until I was 12 and I couldn’t help but wonder what could’ve happened had I continued showing up for lessons. (Could I have grown to whack the most bulllet-train-like serve in history — 156 miles per hour! — like Ivo Karlovic?) This morbidly workaholic ectomorph may not command a Babolat like Nadal, but he’s pretty skillfull at using the controller for a couple rounds of Wii Tennis. Look at it this way: no extreme muscle exhaustion, no cramping.    

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