This was supposed to be his year of redemption. Of resurgence from unexpected depths, of fresh ink on the stamp of greatness. Most of all, this was supposed to be the year of winning, again. It started in right earnest, in Qatar, in a nondescript tournament that everyone plays because, well, the Sheikhs have money and they are not shy to fling it around. Australia came next, a grand slam. He was playing well, even ferociously well at times, as if he wanted to wash away the setbacks of the