Here's one by Steve Tignor that was in this months issue of TENNIS magazine
posted on RF.com some days ago
Under "Players We Love"
Are there any praises left to sing? At 29, with years left on his career, Roger Federer is already recognized in the eyes of many experts as the best who has ever played. Whether you are talking about him from a statistical or an aesthetic point of view, it's hard to argue. Two achievements alone are enough to sum up Federer's dominance over the last 7 seasons. In that short period of time, he went from zero Grand Slam titles to 16, and along the way he reached a previously unthinkable 23 consecutive semifinals at the majors. Both are men's records destined to last for years, decades, and maybe, in the case of the semifinal streak, forever. Winning big and winning consistently - you can't ask anything more of a player.
Just as remarkable has been the way Federer has dominated. In the era of the power game, he's done with beauty, with touch, with variety, with stylishly efficient technique, with serene calm and slashing violence, with a mix of the traditional and the modern. On one side he uses an old-fashioned and effortlessly flowing one-handed backhand; on the other he uncoils viciously through a state-of-the-art topspin forehand.
This is why I love to watch Federer. He encompasses the game. Countless times I've walked around the grounds at the US Open, sampling a match here and there, seeing playes struggle with their service motions, spray unforced errors, suffer through agonizing mental meltdowns. Countless times I've left the grounds behind, walked into the big court inside Arthur Ashe stadium, and let Federer remind me of how tennis, in an ideal and usually unreachable world, is supposed to be played. Federer's service motion couldn't be simpler - he does nothing more than toss the ball and hit it. On his ground strokes, he keeps his eye on the ball all the way through contact, just like you're taught, and just like few of us can. Between points, Federer sticks to the old, gentlemanly codes of this individual sport. He doesn't waste time setting up to serve, he doesn't boss the kids around, he doesn't grunt, and he doesn't look to his box to tell him what to do. He keeps his head down, and, occasional Hawkeye harangue aside, his mouth shut. I feel calmer when I watch Federer. The struggles and failures of the outer courts are forgotten; here everything is possible. With some players I want the spectacural. But with Federer the routine is beautiful enough. I don't need to see him carve up a delicate touch volley to know that I'm in good hands.