The Srichaphan game was never built for the long haul, nor consistent winning. As one-dimensional as it's always been, it's inherently overly dependent on momentum. A player can only hit the ball as hard (and, hopefully, as accurately) as he can, aiming to outlast the opponent and generally ride the crest of a wave of confidence to a match point for so long. Eventually, the book is written on how to defeat such a player: spin shots to keep him from establishing a rhythm, make him awkwardly move forward, frustrate him... and wait for the avalanche of errors to be triggered. At that point, any good player on the other side of the net isn't surprised by anything that's dished out (Paradorn has always been at a loss for strategy when his shots aren't hitting their intended lines, without a virtual mental rolodex to flip through to find a Plan B that will stem the tide of failure), and the outcome of the match rests solely on which of the two can limit their errors and play just well enough to not give the match away. Unless a player is as overwhelmingly talented as a Roger Federer, or as strong-willed as an Andy Roddick, every match is a potential struggle, and his upward mobility in the sport is limited and/or sporadic.