In the current circumstances, it is not advisable to underestimate such a victory. After 6-2 and 6-3 (in 1h 25m) against the young Flavio Cobolli, the first obstacle since January 5, Rafael Nadal shows his thumb, thanks and celebrates in the Barcelona headquarters what in other times would have been a routine, ordinary triumph, another one. Not now. “When you have been competing so little for two years, any tournament you can play is important. The fact that it is on this track, where I have experienced so many things (12 titles among other experiences), makes it even more special. I was nervous when I was winning, so imagine now,” he responds to Tommy Robredo at the foot of the track. He is satisfied. And there are no mishaps, which at this point and in this difficult situation is no small thing. With his physique safeguarded and his tennis calibrated between real fire, a test is now approaching that will surely come much sooner than desired: Alex de Minaur, 11th in the world. Prepared? “The truth is that no idea. I don’t have any certainty. “Today I could only think about playing the first game.”
Time passes, almost two years since he played his last match on clay – that monologue against Ruud at Roland Garros -, three since his forehand did not make craters in the Godó sand – epic ate Tsitsipas -. But some things never change. Nadal enters the court and Barcelona stands at his feet, the game has returned sheriff from Pedralbes; packed to the brim and with compliments everywhere, he jumps and traces the occasional race. Everything measured and calculated, yes. The fears are there and that mind must now overcome the logical boundary of fear. It’s a long time without competing, too many months in reserve. Many blows suffered. And the physique, of course, does not stop threatening. And if…? Doubts embed themselves in the brain like ticks and walk around, always bloody. But it’s a holiday.
“Thanks for coming!”. “Never leave!”, they dedicate to him from the stands, while his family watches and his father crosses her legs sideways, like like like like. A tracing in the pose. In other boxes, the one from a corner, is witnessed by the entire staff of his technical team: López, Marcaccio and Moyà complete the three-in-a-row, attentive to each maneuver and tucking in the entire time: “Força!” The tennis player gives off a come on! shy in the first set and punishes his thigh for a long right hand, No! Seriousness from beginning to end, just the right expressiveness during the action.
The sun beats down hard in Barcelona and Nadal, with his usual chocolate tan, tries to cling to the baseline tooth and nail, and tackle from there. He hooks the toe of his left foot in the step, all the tics are still there; He takes his time to draw, processing how he can sink his teeth into that young Italian—prolific quarry, today nine representatives in the top-100—sds— who faces his big day, because if there is any option to overthrow the king it is this, now that he lacks rhythm and that he does not have everything with him. “Anything can happen these kinds of days, after so long without playing a professional game,” he says. So he doses, he economizes everything. It is a Nadal of circumstances, according to the current reality: each hit can be the last. The Mallorcan does not waste a single drop of energy and that characteristic vigor is only seen in reduced doses.
Nadal, wrapped in a straitjacket, caged. He wants to explode, take the hammer out for a walk, but the script asks for something else. Containment and more containment, head and more head. Prudence as a flag. In any case, it is enough for him to control a match that reveals an interesting opponent – 62nd in the world at 21 years old – although still very green. There are many white hair from his side and Nadal exercises methodically from there, intelligently, taking over the center, in those six tiles that allow him to win points and games; gaining a lot of peace of mind, which in tests like this is surely the priority. A break in the fourth game decides the initial set and in the second there is an outburst, with a volley that tastes like glory when Cobolli opens the angle and he, the boss, who plays at home for a reason, releases the wrist shot and, now, shows off the fist of war.
It has been known for a long time that Nadal, with very little, goes a long way. The last stay in the infirmary – more than three months, since he again felt discomfort in the area operated on in June of last year – has not diminished his competitive instinct one bit, no matter what happens. But yes, his service. He draws the maneuver without forcing, protecting that conditioned abdominal that, as his uncle Toni revealed last week in Segovia, has been playing tricks on him since his return from the antipodes, at the beginning of January. The digits on the speedometer do not deceive: its first services frequently reach 160 or 170 kilometers per hour – some do not exceed 145 -, when its usual average is rather close to 190. It reaches a peak of 187, but in an isolated manner. Any precaution is too little.
Only in the final stretch of the duel does he punctually release the power: volleyball, and the fan kicks against the metal sheet of the stands. In weight exchanges, he prevails in almost all of them. Very concentrated, he only relaxes his attention for a couple of moments, to take a couple of glances at his son Rafael, in the arms of his wife. He points his finger at the child and calls out to the father from the fourth row: there he is, there he is again.
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