When my co-writer Nina Rota and I spoke last week about the likely final at Roland Garros between Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal, she said, “I really want Roger to win, otherwise this is not a true rivalry.” I was just as eager to see him win.

Well, a match so over hyped as the final was on Sunday is probably due to disappoint nearly everyone, even Rafa fans. On that score, it did live up to the billing, unfortunately. It was something along the lines of eating Chinese food. It seemed yummy at the time, but a few hours later we’re complaining, there’s a gap opening up in my tummy already.

There were certainly gaps in this match. Somehow it just didn’t satisfy our hankering for a lovely, substantial tennis meal. Let’s hope though that the new recruits to the game – who probably turned on their TV sets lured by the hype over this match – don’t get disappointed and go back to NASCAR or whatever else it is they catch sports-wise on the tube. Come to think of it, would NASCAR refugees be here in the first place? Maybe not.

This should have been a marvelous poster ad for men’s tennis. It wasn’t, but the rivalry between the two men is certainly still there. But where does it go from here? I think what needs to happen is that their different styles of play really start to interpenetrate the world of the other, on surfaces other than clay.

Just as Nadal seems to have gotten deep inside the head of the Fed, I think Roger has to really step it up during the grass and hard court seasons, whenever he faces Nadal, and hopefully they will face each other on those surfaces. On grass, it will be Nadal’s turn to scramble and find his way, against an opponent whose game is just as tailor-made for those surfaces as Nadal’s is for clay.

Clay is suited to Nadal for another reason. He can win on clay because of his overwhelming physicality. That is as big a weapon in his arsenal as that hooking forehand, or his relentless court coverage. On grass, that aspect won’t matter so much. Rather it’s all about the shot-making. You need to serve and volley. Grinding? What’s that on grass?

Nadal is going to get fitted with a new suit at Wimbledon, and he may find it a tight fit. I for one am very curious to see the pace at which he proceeds to learn on grass. And of course we get the added thrill of watching an ebullient Latin temperament fitted into the drab and green lawns of the All-England Club. In my screenwriting courses at the AFI, they used to talk about the different genres in film writing. The “Fish Out of Water” is a very popular one. A guy from one world basically gets plopped down in the middle of a totally different one. Often with wild and crazy results.

This is Nadal, going into Wimbledon. The game that Roger Federer termed earlier this spring “one dimensional” is now going to have to open up to incorporate new skills. We all hope he can do this, to a large degree. We want that rivalry, and this is how we get it. They each keep learning the skills of the other’s world.

And what about Federer? Part of me is very upset that he did not play up to his level in Rome, at least. I felt though I got a look into Roger’s soul a bit on Sunday, and for a minute there I caught a glimmer of…well, sorry to say, a burgher. He may be too complacent now, everything has come ever so easily. And perhaps that has taken a toll. But perhaps it also served as a good wake-up call. We won’t know what the results of that are until the Big Red One that is Roland Garros rolls around next spring.

On Sunday, it seemed that Roger was shocked almost by how well he handled Nadal in the first set. And that first set may indeed have been equal combinations of Roger playing aggressively and well, and Nadal not quite with his morning Starbuck’s under his belt. And then, almost like a sleepwalker, Federer opened his eyes and looked around and had a sudden panic attack. He scared himself. Maybe he is too nice a guy a lot of the time. He couldn’t stick the knife in Nadal.

Would Roger dare to eat the peach? No, apparently not. His feet are not made of clay, but Sunday they looked for all the world like they were certainly stuck in clay. Federer pulled a bit of a Mauresmo on us, and we could pose the same question to both: what’s the point of having such beautiful, well-rounded games when you guys don’t seem to want to PLAY them in the big moments of tournaments? Hey, give me your game then, if you really really don’t want it.

But Roger will get another shot at it next year, he will win Roland Garros at some point. Maybe right at the point when everyone thinks, “He can never win this one.” The pressure of keeping his Slam run alive won’t be there next year. Well, unless of course he gets real annoyed with himself and just goes off on a tear for the rest of this year and gets ANOTHER Slam run going. Who knows, maybe each guy crosses over next year, with Rafa making a serious run at Wimbledon, and Federer finally taking the French.

That peach is going down, one way or the other.

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