Fedalovic Wars

[shawnbm]

Pancho Gonzales is number one!

There--I settled it for y'all

 

[El Dude]

Pancho Gonzales is number one!

There--I settled it for y'all

Pancho is terribly underrated, mainly because he was only an amateur for a few years before going pro and thus only won 2 Amateur Slams. But he was the best player in the world for most of a decade, just on the pro tour. In other words, he's hard to compare because so much of his greatness comes from his dominance of the professional tour, and it is very difficult to compare his pro record to Open Era players. With Laver and Rosewall, we can at least squint and fudge it a bit.

In addition to 2 Amateur Slams and 12 Pro Slams, Pancho won 7 World Pro Championships, which is two more than anyone else (Vines won 5, Budge and Kramer 4 each, Tilden 3, and Kozeluh, Riggs and Rosewall 1 each...the last was in 1963, the year Laver went pro; he came in second to Rosewall). The World Pro Tours varied by year, but were generally played by the best of the best and really whole tours in their own right...some years a few dozen matches, one year over 120, spread out over several months. I've never been satisfied with any formula to translate them to Open Era equivalency, but they're certainly worth more than Slams.

I tend to see Amateur Slams as more valuable than a Masters, but less than an Open Era Slam. Some were equivalent to weak OE Slams, still with some elite players sprinkled in, but most were like longer, 5-set ATP 500s - in terms of depth of talent (sort of like the AO in the 70s). Pro Slams generally had a higher level of competition, but were rather short, sometimes as few as just 3 rounds of best-of-3 matches (though sometimes twice that). I tend to see them as similar to the old WCT Finals, some veering towards the ATP Finals.

For me Pancho ranks just outside of the all-time top 5. I'd rank the Big Three, Laver, and Tilden ahead of him, but he'd probably be #6 or, at the least, definitely in the top 10. He might have been similar to Pete Sampras, but with much greater longevity - he was still a very good player into his mid-40s, winning two Masters equivalents in 1969 at age 41, winning his last title in 1972 at age 44.

 

[shawnbm]

^ oh I know, El Dude--I was being tongue-in-cheek a bit, but not much! He was a truly dominant force for a long time. He could even trouble younger players in the Seventies with his service and big game. Many old timers thought he was the man for a long time and then we would hear about Lew Hoad and how he was the best at his peak and all that. One can never know and you can't compare across eras. Certainly those guys from sixty years ago did not have the training and physios of today's guys, but they played top players a lot on those tours. They played a lot of matches.

 

[El Dude]

^ oh I know, El Dude--I was being tongue-in-cheek a bit, but not much! He was a truly dominant force for a long time. He could even trouble younger players in the Seventies with his service and big game. Many old timers thought he was the man for a long time and then we would hear about Lew Hoad and how he was the best at his peak and all that. One can never know and you can't compare across eras. Certainly those guys from sixty years ago did not have the training and physios of today's guys, but they played top players a lot on those tours. They played a lot of matches.

I think the Lew Hoad thing is largely from Jack Kramer, who also didn't like Pancho (I think I read). He was obviously great in his prime, and could play at a very high level, but just wasn't consistent. I sort of see him as a better version of David Nalbandian.

Pancho's a guy whose game would probably have translated to any era.

 

[Moxie]

Pancho is terribly underrated,

Not by you, or Shawn, apparently, though I did know he was kind of kidding. Nor by a lot of people who played in his era(s.) Arthur Ashe said he was the only idol he ever had. Bud Collins said if you had to have one person to serve for the Earth, it would be Gonzalez, and he said that in 2006.

For me Pancho ranks just outside of the all-time top 5. I'd rank the Big Three, Laver, and Tilden ahead of him, but he'd probably be #6 or, at the least, definitely in the top 10. He might have been similar to Pete Sampras, but with much greater longevity - he was still a very good player into his mid-40s, winning two Masters equivalents in 1969 at age 41, winning his last title in 1972 at age 44.

Here's what I don't understand, though. You've got Big 3, then Laver, Tilden and Gonzalez. I know you're younger than I am, and I'm pretty sure Shawn is. I mostly only ever saw Laver and Gonzalez play on a b/w TV and at my father's knee. We can read about them, in retrospect, of course. But your assessment is based on statistics, right? Not giving you a hard time about that, just checking. I also find it surprising that you put 3 guys from the amateur era, or who straddled it, at 4-6. Especially if you never saw them play?

I know how hard you've worked to put numbers to career achievements across eras, and I admire and respect that. I just keep wondering about the assessment of players that most of us never really watched. Please take that question in the spirit it is intended.

 

[Moxie]

It is sort of like a triathalon: each of the three has their own "event" (time/context/surface) where they stand above everyone else--including the other two--but overall, Novak wins the race.

It isn't only surface, but we can sort of simplify it this way:

Clay: Rafa, Novak, Roger
Grass: Roger, Novak, Rafa
Hards: Novak, Roger, Rafa

Now while Rafa is third in two of the surfaces, he makes up for it by being much further ahead in clay than the other two are on Grass and Hards (and really, Roger and Novak are very close on each).

Novak "wins the race" because he's 1 or 2 on all three.

I'm choosing your post to follow up on @shawnbm's post that he's happy to have watched them all play in the same era. I'm very onboard with that, and happy to have enjoyed this particular Golden Age of men's tennis. (And all of the ensuing "Wars," which have been fun, too.) Also, following on @Shivashish Sarkar's above, with the very simple 1-2-3 (Novak, Rafa, Roger. All too simplistic, IMO.)

Jon Wertheim said in his recent SI mailbag that the question is settled for him. It's Djokovic, by the numbers. So, that's a dispassionate response. Fair enough. For those who need an answer, and a GOAT, perhaps you have one.

For me, I don't believe in a GOAT, especially if you look at the Big 3, and also especially if you try to measure all players across eras. And I know you've tried hard. Good effort! I know we try to codify things in sports, by the numbers, but even then, can't it be a fool's errand? To some extent?

The reason I don't like separating the Big 3, or certainly making it as simple as Shivashish does, is that they all basically say they wouldn't be the same without each other. Which I think is true. Novak has been the most ambitious, but would he have been if he'd been born first? What if Roger was the one who was 6 years younger? It's a silly thought experiment, but it's also germane to the timings of everything. Timing means something in terms of how it all shook out between them.

 

[El Dude]

Not by you, or Shawn, apparently, though I did know he was kind of kidding. Nor by a lot of people who played in his era(s.) Arthur Ashe said he was the only idol he ever had. Bud Collins said if you had to have one person to serve for the Earth, it would be Gonzalez, and he said that in 2006.

Here's what I don't understand, though. You've got Big 3, then Laver, Tilden and Gonzalez. I know you're younger than I am, and I'm pretty sure Shawn is. I mostly only ever saw Laver and Gonzalez play on a b/w TV and at my father's knee. We can read about them, in retrospect, of course. But your assessment is based on statistics, right? Not giving you a hard time about that, just checking. I also find it surprising that you put 3 guys from the amateur era, or who straddled it, at 4-6. Especially if you never saw them play?

I know how hard you've worked to put numbers to career achievements across eras, and I admire and respect that. I just keep wondering about the assessment of players that most of us never really watched. Please take that question in the spirit it is intended.

Well, the stats tell us what they actually accomplished against their peers, so they are actual hard data. A win is a win, so to speak. I sort of see it as two separate, if related things: A player's stats, which are measurable and basically objective, and what we see actually watching the sport, which is more subjective, more about the art of the game. They overlap and mix in terms of our experience of tennis, which gives us our sense of things. But more importantly, one cannot be reduced to the other; at the same time, both have their value. They are two different modes of looking at the sport.

In a way, one is like science, the other like religion. From the perspective of science, religion is fluffy hogwash; from the perspective of religion, science is dry and meaningless. But fundamentalists of both miss the point of the other - that one is not supposed to replace or subsume the other, because they dealing with different realms of the human experience.

When talking about all-time ranks and such, I rely mostly on the stats. I mean, if we didn't, we'd just be dueling with "That's just your opinion, man" (ala the Dude). When I say "GOAT" or "top 10 all-time," I rarely mean "players who impressed me the most with their play, when I happened to see them." I almost always mean, "who had the best career, in terms of actual accomplishments?" It doesn't mean I don't watch the play and enjoy discussing the finer elements of a wicked serve or an elegant backhand. But those moments don't figure as much into rankings and lists, because we can't measure them.

Don't forget the problem of good old Calitennis, who was so smitten with Nalbandian's occasional brilliance that he let that override the simple fact that Nalbandian wasn't that great. He was a very good player, probably comparable to someone like Stefanos Tsitsipas today, and he had moments of brilliance, but assessing a player's career greatness has to be more than the sum total of moments that we happen to see (and distort through our subjectivity). In the end, results are set in stone. David Nalbandian, in terms of his all-time ranking, is only as good as the actual results he produced.

That said, I do occasionally browse for clips of Laver, Pancho, Muscles, and whoever I can find. But I don't do it to add to my various ranking queries; I do it because I like watching historic players play - I'm curious what their games were like, and how the game was played across eras. I mean, it can actually be kind of funny. Bill Tilden was hugely dominant during his time, but the game was so different that it was almost a different sport. I mean, he wore pants! And it looks like a couple guys playing casual in a gym. For example:



Imaging that guy playing, say, Rafa, is sort of like imagining a Model T Ford racing a Tuatara. But that doesn't take away from the greatness of Tilden, but clearly the sport has evolved (maybe not quite as much as cars!).

On a side but related note, I was messing around with a chart that had all titles color-coded by surface type, as a way to compare players' relative greatness on different surfaces. When I put these things together, it gives a nice visual sense that is both more visually appealing than numbers. Anyhow, what always strikes me is how, on first glance, not only are the Big Three substantially ahead of everyone else (Open Era only), but on first glance, they aren't that far apart from each other. The visual impression of the three is similar, or close enough that they look comparable. They have different subtleties of greatness, and of course the "shape" of Novak is slightly bigger than the other two, but the sum total of what each accomplished is close enough that the difference may simply come down to, as Kieran likes to say, circumstance.

This is a way of supporting what you're saying, that in terms of overall greatness as players, the Big Three are--at the least--close to equals, and the difference in counting stats has to do with factors that could have yielded different results, given different circumstances. But, at the same time, Novak's sum total is a bit more impressive than the other two - he's just made a bigger haul of trophies. It doesn't even mean that he was a better player on a given day or at his best; that will forever be debated. But it does mean that his overall tally of results is solidly ahead of the other two.

To use an analogy, send three people into the woods to gather acorns. They come back an hour later and one has 104, the other 92, the third 87. Was the one with 104 better at gathering acorns? Not necessarily. It may be that there were more oak trees where he looked, or it may be that the guy with 87 stubbed his toe and was delayed and the guy with 92 saw an interesting mushroom and got distracted. But in the context of gathering as many acorns as possible, 104 "wins" over 92 and 87. Novak found 104 acorns.

 

[shawnbm]

Welcome moxie

 

[El Dude]

Here's a screenshot from one of my charts. Blue is hards, green is grass, yellow is clay (and there's a bit of pink on one for carpet). This only includes actual titles - so no Slam finals and semifinals, etc. Each cell is equal to 250 ATP points - so 1 for ATP 250s, 2 for ATP 500s, 4 for Masters, 6 for TF, 8 for Grand Slams...I've used 5 for Olympics and 4 for WCT Finals and Grand Slam Cups (same as Masters).

I probably don't need to say who the three players are, or which one each represents. But you can see from this how close they are, though if you look a bit closer, one is a bit larger than the other two. But you'll also notice how one has a lot more yellow-orange than the other two, but a lot less green and blue.

 

[Moxie]

Well, the stats tell us what they actually accomplished against their peers, so they are actual hard data. A win is a win, so to speak. I sort of see it as two separate, if related things: A player's stats, which are measurable and basically objective, and what we see actually watching the sport, which is more subjective, more about the art of the game. They overlap and mix in terms of our experience of tennis, which gives us our sense of things. But more importantly, one cannot be reduced to the other; at the same time, both have their value. They are two different modes of looking at the sport.

I know you've done a lot of hard yards on the numbers, so I trust you on that, and appreciate this response.

In a way, one is like science, the other like religion. From the perspective of science, religion is fluffy hogwash; from the perspective of religion, science is dry and meaningless. But fundamentalists of both miss the point of the other - that one is not supposed to replace or subsume the other, because they dealing with different realms of the human experience.

When talking about all-time ranks and such, I rely mostly on the stats. I mean, if we didn't, we'd just be dueling with "That's just your opinion, man" (ala the Dude). When I say "GOAT" or "top 10 all-time," I rarely mean "players who impressed me the most with their play, when I happened to see them." I almost always mean, "who had the best career, in terms of actual accomplishments?" It doesn't mean I don't watch the play and enjoy discussing the finer elements of a wicked serve or an elegant backhand. But those moments don't figure as much into rankings and lists, because we can't measure them.

I have a small quibble with your "science/religion" analogy. It's a little loaded. (It's not "science v.voodoo." LOL.) I think of it more as numbers vs. prose. I don't have a problem with "science" as your naming the stats side, either. But "religion," I think, is more applicable to fandom of a player. What I believe we're talking about is what the "intangibles" are when we see players play. It rounds out the story of the things that make certain players great. It's not just about pretty shots. It's about things like tennis IQ and competitiveness, etc. I know it bothers you that they can't be measured, but they exist as features of players...at least of the ones that we've been able to watch play, ourselves. However, I take your point that a win is a win, and however they got there means nothing to the stats.

Don't forget the problem of good old Calitennis, who was so smitten with Nalbandian's occasional brilliance that he let that override the simple fact that Nalbandian wasn't that great. He was a very good player, probably comparable to someone like Stefanos Tsitsipas today, and he had moments of brilliance, but assessing a player's career greatness has to be more than the sum total of moments that we happen to see (and distort through our subjectivity). In the end, results are set in stone. David Nalbandian, in terms of his all-time ranking, is only as good as the actual results he produced.

While I think Calitennis is a terrible example, or at least an extreme one, it's fun to go back to him. He absolutely couldn't accept that a win was a win. He could be dismissive of them. He felt like he saw talent, (for which he had a very narrow definition,) and it "should" prevail! Yeah, he was nuts, but sometimes fun to fight with. LOL.

That said, I do occasionally browse for clips of Laver, Pancho, Muscles, and whoever I can find. But I don't do it to add to my various ranking queries; I do it because I like watching historic players play - I'm curious what their games were like, and how the game was played across eras. I mean, it can actually be kind of funny. Bill Tilden was hugely dominant during his time, but the game was so different that it was almost a different sport. I mean, he wore pants! And it looks like a couple guys playing casual in a gym. For example:



Imaging that guy playing, say, Rafa, is sort of like imagining a Model T Ford racing a Tuatara. But that doesn't take away from the greatness of Tilden, but clearly the sport has evolved (maybe not quite as much as cars!).

I've found that clip myself. It's practically like watching a silent movie. Whole different game. But here, for example, I would add the things that Tilden and Gonzalez fought against while also playing tennis. (It doesn't so much matter, because you have them Top 10, anyway, but Tilden, while a good country club type, was gay. And Gonzalez was not at all the country club model, and faced discrimination his whole career. i only mention, I guess, because it adds to their greatness.

On a side but related note, I was messing around with a chart that had all titles color-coded by surface type, as a way to compare players' relative greatness on different surfaces. When I put these things together, it gives a nice visual sense that is both more visually appealing than numbers. Anyhow, what always strikes me is how, on first glance, not only are the Big Three substantially ahead of everyone else (Open Era only), but on first glance, they aren't that far apart from each other. The visual impression of the three is similar, or close enough that they look comparable. They have different subtleties of greatness, and of course the "shape" of Novak is slightly bigger than the other two, but the sum total of what each accomplished is close enough that the difference may simply come down to, as Kieran likes to say, circumstance.

This was something that I meant to add to my post from yesterday, and you've already addressed it: that you're comparing the 3 to each other, but they were head and shoulders above everyone else. And thanks for the additional illustration, above.

This is a way of supporting what you're saying, that in terms of overall greatness as players, the Big Three are--at the least--close to equals, and the difference in counting stats has to do with factors that could have yielded different results, given different circumstances. But, at the same time, Novak's sum total is a bit more impressive than the other two - he's just made a bigger haul of trophies. It doesn't even mean that he was a better player on a given day or at his best; that will forever be debated. But it does mean that his overall tally of results is solidly ahead of the other two.

To use an analogy, send three people into the woods to gather acorns. They come back an hour later and one has 104, the other 92, the third 87. Was the one with 104 better at gathering acorns? Not necessarily. It may be that there were more oak trees where he looked, or it may be that the guy with 87 stubbed his toe and was delayed and the guy with 92 saw an interesting mushroom and got distracted. But in the context of gathering as many acorns as possible, 104 "wins" over 92 and 87. Novak found 104 acorns.

It does support what I'm saying, so I appreciate your saying it. Like I said, if someone wants an "answer" to the GOAT question, well, they can claim one. If that's what someone needs. I still think a time so dazzling with high-wire tennis required all 3 of them, and I don't think they're really worth separating. I agree with Kieran that circumstance is in there. I know you compare them to the ranks of players that they played, but it does matter who were those ranked players when they played them.

I've never believe in one GOAT, because of the complications across eras, as much as anything else. I know you've tried to solve it with stats, but I'm not 100% convinced. Not because I'm religious or believe in voodoo, but simply because I think tennis has changed too much and in too many ways to codify it across the years into one thing. I appreciate your trying, though.

 

[El Dude]

As I've said before, Moxie, my attempt isn't trying to find a definitive, final answer, but the best answer possible with the available data - and one that can be found within the context of statistics, aka the record book. This doesn't mean that I think players can be fully encapsulated by their statistical record - of course they cannot.

Actually, prose works just fine for the analogy. Prose involves artistry and is a means of expressing something, often in a non-literal way. it isn't the best way to, say, compare the weights of lead vs. gold, or measure the length of a piece of wood. Whether we use the word religion or prose or, perhaps a better word, narrative, it still amounts to the same: a discussion of what is seen on court, but not a measurement of actual results.

So if we're primarily considering narratives (prose/religion/etc) as a means to assess greatness, I would agree with you that it is impossible - in the same way that we cannot know the relative weights of metals by talking about their colors and energetic qualities, or what feelings they evoke when we hold a chunk in our hand. Likewise, we cannot get a meaningful sense of a poem by analyzing the grammar and word structure - or, at least, it will only take us so far, and not into the real poetry of the words and what they bring forth with our imagination.

Maybe the problem is in the word "greatness." Or rather, I would differentiate between "greatness" - which I think can be largely assessed through stats - and "brilliance" (or even artistry), which cannot. I think your main issue is with conflating the two, or reducing brilliance/artistry to statistical greatness. If that is what you're concerned with, I'm 100% with you - but don't think talking about statistically measurable greatness in any way has to obfuscate or subsume narratives about brilliance. They're two separate domains that can touch, but cover different territory.

 

[Moxie]

As I've said before, Moxie, my attempt isn't trying to find a definitive, final answer, but the best answer possible with the available data - and one that can be found within the context of statistics, aka the record book. This doesn't mean that I think players can be fully encapsulated by their statistical record - of course they cannot.

Actually, prose works just fine for the analogy. Prose involves artistry and is a means of expressing something, often in a non-literal way. it isn't the best way to, say, compare the weights of lead vs. gold, or measure the length of a piece of wood. Whether we use the word religion or prose or, perhaps a better word, narrative, it still amounts to the same: a discussion of what is seen on court, but not a measurement of actual results.

So if we're primarily considering narratives (prose/religion/etc) as a means to assess greatness, I would agree with you that it is impossible - in the same way that we cannot know the relative weights of metals by talking about their colors and energetic qualities, or what feelings they evoke when we hold a chunk in our hand. Likewise, we cannot get a meaningful sense of a poem by analyzing the grammar and word structure - or, at least, it will only take us so far, and not into the real poetry of the words and what they bring forth with our imagination.

Maybe the problem is in the word "greatness." Or rather, I would differentiate between "greatness" - which I think can be largely assessed through stats - and "brilliance" (or even artistry), which cannot. I think your main issue is with conflating the two, or reducing brilliance/artistry to statistical greatness. If that is what you're concerned with, I'm 100% with you - but don't think talking about statistically measurable greatness in any way has to obfuscate or subsume narratives about brilliance. They're two separate domains that can touch, but cover different territory.

OMG, Dude, I think you may have finally nailed that jello to the wall!

First of all, you're right that the word I was searching for was "narrative." It's better.

As to your distinguishing between "greatness" and "brilliance," especially the bolded above, I think you've found the key, at the very least to what I've been feebly trying to express. So very well-done! This is why we talk it out, right?

I will be sending you $20 via PayPal for Post of the Year, and a cherry pie, in gratitude.

 

[El Dude]

The cherry pie sounds particularly good! Anyhow, glad we found a deeper level of understanding and agreement. Who knows, maybe we could even convince Cali that Nalbandian was a brilliant tennis player, just not a great one. Yeah, right .

 

[Moxie]

The cherry pie sounds particularly good! Anyhow, glad we found a deeper level of understanding and agreement. Who knows, maybe we could even convince Cali that Nalbandian was a brilliant tennis player, just not a great one. Yeah, right .

I think you and I totally get each other on the topic. I'm happy about that. It won't keep me from fighting with other people, LOL, but, between you and me, I will be content that we understand each other. I can live with that.

 

[Fiero425]

The cherry pie sounds particularly good! Anyhow, glad we found a deeper level of understanding and agreement. Who knows, maybe we could even convince Cali that Nalbandian was a brilliant tennis player, just not a great one. Yeah, right .

As good as Nalbandian was, he'll be assoc. w/ only 2 or 3 events; all finals! He made 2002 Wimbledon final losing to Hewitt, outlasted Federer in 5 sets to steal the 2005 YEC, & of course his disqualification injuring a linesman at 2012 Queens vs Cilic! Big time underachiever IMO!

 

[Moxie]

As good as Nalbandian was, he'll be assoc. w/ only 2 or 3 events; all finals! He made 2002 Wimbledon final losing to Hewitt, outlasted Federer in 5 sets to steal the 2005 YEC, & of course his subsequent disqualification injuring a linesman at 2012 Queens vs Cilic!

I think what El Dude meant to say was that Nalbandian was talented, and "occasionally" brilliant. Once again I will argue with you that I don't think anyone "steals" a win. Didn't he win 2 of those sets 2 and 1? That's not exactly "outlasting" him. (You used 2 insults in one comment about a match, which has to be a faux pas.) Personally, I think Nalbandian is overrated as an underachiever. He had a nice game, when it was on. Lovely backhand. Is he a great "what if?" I don't think so.

 

[Fiero425]

I think what El Dude meant to say was that Nalbandian was talented, and "occasionally" brilliant. Once again I will argue with you that I don't think anyone "steals" a win. Didn't he win 2 of those sets 2 and 1? That's not exactly "outlasting" him. (You used 2 insults in one comment about a match, which has to be a faux pas.) Personally, I think Nalbandian is overrated as an underachiever. He had a nice game, when it was on. Lovely backhand. Is he a great "what if?" I don't think so.

Roger gives us some cover concerning that '05 YEC! I don't remember watching much of the match, but later Fed complained about a bad ankle! Not sure if on "a shot," but back then, every loss of Federer had to have an explanation! Even I gave him cover concerning his rivalry w/ Nadal that wasn't as Rafa owned Roger "lock, stock, & barrel" from early on!: We tried to rationalize most of the wins were on clay when Roger was going down, even on nhis beloved grass to the "GOAT-in-waiting" after Sampras set Major's record at 14 just 3 years before! I give Roger a lot of credit w/ a string of wins over Rafa late when they were on their "Fedal Redux" tour while Novak was wandering the desert in search of his game, his personal life, & a healed elbow!

 

[El Dude]

Fedal Redux Tour, haha. Love it.

 

[Shivashish Sarkar]

Tbh

other than that 2017 season when Federer bounced back, Rafa really owned Federer

Federer's 2017 season however was special

 

[El Dude]

In case anyone's curious, here's a larger chart with the players that I consider the top nine of the Open Era:

Color Code: Blue - hards, Green - grass, Orange - clay, Pink - carpet.

Explanation: Above the center line are Slams, below everything else. Slams are a darker color, with Tour Finals and Olympics medium and everything else lighter. Size correlates roughly with ATP points: one cell for ATP 250s, two cells for ATP 500s, four cells for Masters and Alt Finals, five cells for Olympics (except for '84, which is three cells), and Slams are eight cells.

As you can see, this illustrates the greatness of the Big Three, but it also shows how the others all had periods of time of similar--or at least, close--dominance. It also shows the range of and the different variations on surface dominance.

The chart also shows how while Sampras won more Slams, his overall dominance was similar to that of Borg, McEnroe, and Lendl. I think this is less about winning the big ones and more about different emphasis on titles. The older three, especially Borg and Mac, usually only played in three Slams, and their focus was less "Slam-centric."

As far as the Big Three are concerned, Novak and Roger are actually pretty similar visually. Roger was a bit more centered on his early prime, while Novak is more distributed (though you can see how he had two prime periods, the greater 2011-16 and then the slightly lesser 2018-23). Rafa's stands out in two ways: One, the obvious dominance of clay, and secondly that he didn't have the extended peak eras of some of the other greats, but his excellence was more spread out - again, the result of his greatness on clay.

Anyhow, I'll add a second chart of the next tier of players - the "lesser ATGs" - and throw in a few "near greats," for visual comparison.