I always love watching the Australian Open - that oasis in the Grand Slam desert that stretches from September to May - but this year it was especially enjoyable because I could see, in the shots of Melbourne, familiar places.
In fact, thinking back to my visit in July, I saw certain parallels to Federer's stay.
I was there participating in the Melbourne Festival of Travel Writing. It was put on by the University of Melbourne, and had an international group of participants, including a couple big hitters like Tony Wheeler.
And everything went well. I heard some fascinating speakers, met many interesting people, and in my free time explored the city. (Though instead of a heat wave, I experienced a damp cold.) When I gave my talk, it got a warm reception. (Though I did not toss my pens to the audience afterwards.)
Then, just before I left, I received an e-mail from my newspaper that I was getting laid off. So after two weeks of success and adulation, dismissal. Exactly as with Federer. Except that his defeat was public; mine was private. He was devastated. I was relieved.
