Carlitos has shaved, it’s a big day and to be in the photo for the semi-finals you have to look handsome, well groomed. And Stefanos Tsitsipas knows a bit about beauty, Greek proportions (in the strict sense) and a source of sighs, here and there, unhinged in this Parisian episode in which the second set has barely begun and he is already swearing in Aramaic while his father, Apostolos, He transmits on the bench as much or more nervousness than his son, overwhelmed and overwhelmed in the arena, overwhelmed by the impeccable demonstration of the rocket. There goes Alcaraz, without restraint, serious, constant, cutting, inspired again. Redondo, he dictates the town: 6-3, 7-6 (3) and 6-4, after 2h 29m. The Murcian has acquired cruising speed and without eating or drinking it and despite everything, this bloody spring that had not allowed him to take flight until landing in Paris and that triggers sneezes in the stands due to the proximity of the Bolonia Forest and the allergies, it is already there, sparkling, growing and increasingly smiling, overwhelming towards the penultimate round of this Roland Garros in which Novak Djokovic is now, officially, a fallen in combat.
