To grasp the appeal of the French Open, consider the phrases that infect the landscape of our minds. The world is flat. Increasingly complex. Faster than ever. Flat. Complex. Fast. Concepts that could apply from the time man crawled out of a cave.

As these phrases blare, they numb. OMG, check itout on your iPhone. Text it to your BFF. C u.

Which leads us back to Roland Garros. For tennis both benefits and projects contemporary culture. The appeal of tennis is gobbled up by those who wish to affiliate themselves with an activity so vibrant, charismatic, so much an assertion of sheer, artisan-like individualism. Business can automate and amalgamate masses in every corner of the globe, but little is quite as singular – and therefore compelling -- than the will of a Nadal, the grace of a Federer, the grit of a Sharapova, the firepower of Serena. From oil barons in Dubai, to the upwardly mobile of China, to a high-tech billionaire in California, tennis creates a distinct affiliation with the individual.

Roland Garros sharpens the focus. On the one hand, tennis has become more professionalized than ever. Thirty years ago, Tennis Channel’s own Martina Navratilova launched a revolution in training that has become the norm. Cross-training, diet, equipment –all now carefully-calibrated. And why not? The motto is simple: In the pursuit of excellence, leave no stone unturned.

And yet amid all the data and technology a player can draw on, here is what Roland Garros offers most of all: dirt. Raw,dusty, at once able to penetrate the body and invade the soul, nothing is quite as elemental as seeing two players struggle toe-to-toe in a French Open match.

If the US Open champion is king of the world, if Wimbledon’s winner is humbled by the grandeur of tennis’ saga, then a Roland Garros winner is a golem, a creature emerged from the sludge. For Ivan Lendl, loser in four prior Slam finals, Roland Garros was where he at last overcame doubt to find deliverance, battling from two sets to love down to beat John McEnroe in the1984 final. To Andre Agassi, Court Philippe Chatrier was “the dragon,” a beast he had failed to slay in two finals – and where he at last found redemption in his third attempt. Three years ago came the time for Roger Federer. 

Now of course a clay tennis court is as much manufactured as a hardcourt, carpet or grass. In some ways the sensual orange dust of Roland Garros is even more a triumph of engineering and technology than any surface in the world. So to call it natural is a bit misleading.

But no tournament is more about process, preparation and homework than the French Open.  Wimbledon is for opportunists, for those bold enough to grab the point when it’s there for the taking. Get in some time on the grass, play a tournament, practice and jump into the battle. 

Says Roland Garros: Not so fast. The sheer physicality it takes to compete at the French Open is daunting – now more than ever. For many years, from the ascent of Bjorn Borg in 1974 to Thomas Muster’s win in 1995, the French occupied The Age of Attrition. Borg, Ivan Lendl, Mats Wilander, Jim Courier, Sergei Bruguera were all grinders par excellence.  

Then came the shift. Gustavo Kuerten won the first of his three titles in 1997 – victories earned with the Luxilon string that enables players to take huge swings and generate tremendous racket head speed, power and control. Call this now The Atomic Age. With players capable of incurring damage from more parts of the court than ever, the court has become less a rectangle and more of an enormous circle – all the better to appreciate the bullring-like qualities of Roland Garros.  

And so in a time of rapid-fire technology and instant communication, we turn our eyes to the fundamental grind of footwork, of the slip and the slide, to variations in spin and pace, heightand depth – to an incredibly visceral tennis landscape. If Wimbledon is a pop quiz, then Roland Garros is a term paper.     

Nobody knows this better than Nadal. Asked by Elle Magazine writer Elizabeth Kaye what advice he would give to an aspiring pro, the six-time French Open champion gave a simple but powerful response: “Enjoy suffering.”