In 50 years, in 100 years, for as long as this earth is spinning and they play a tennis tournament on the red clay of Roland Garros, the display listing its men’s champions will never cease to be a marvel of human endurance and brilliance.
2005: R. Nadal
2006: R. Nadal
2007: R. Nadal
2008: R. Nadal
2010: R. Nadal
2011: R. Nadal
2012: R. Nadal
2013: R. Nadal
2014: R. Nadal
2017: R. Nadal
2018: R. Nadal
2019: R. Nadal
2020: R. Nadal
2022: R. Nadal
Imagine what our future descendants will think, what questions they will ask, when they look at that name listed 14 times.
How did Rafael Nadal Perera do it? What kind of physical mastery and mental desire did it take to dominate a Grand Slam from his teenage years until his late 30s? And did it end by his own choice, or did time finally tell the great Spaniard, “no mas?”
The first two questions will always be part history, part mystery. The third was answered Monday − not yet definitively, but symbolically. Even on his favorite surface, at his favorite tournament, one of the game’s best players of yesterday was no match for one of the game’s best players of today.
In the first round of the French Open, Alexander Zverev beat Nadal, 6-3, 7-6, 6-3. The legend walked to the net, shook hands with Zverev and sat down on the bench. He was called to the microphone to say what was probably a goodbye. And then he walked off Court Philippe-Chatrier having lost for just the fourth time in 116 matches there, knowing it’s a feeling both he and a sport that adores him will probably never experience together again.
“Is difficult for me to talk,” he said. “I don’t know if it’s the last time I’m going to be here in front of all of you. Honestly, I’m not 100 percent sure, but if it’s last time I enjoy it, no?”
Nobody on a tennis court has ever been more relentless than Nadal. But he’s also a realist caught between a desire to keep competing and a nearly 38-year old body that has been telling him for a few years it’s time to finally stop.
The simple act of hitting the ball is still there, still pure, still devastating. But tennis, especially at the highest level of the sport, isn’t just hitting a ball. It’s a game that hinges on the smallest of margins; mere percentage points of movement and ability to change directions and hit the shots that steal fractions of a second from opponents.
Maintaining those things over the course of years as the muscles and joints deteriorate becomes more and more difficult. And then, those small percentage points are just gone. Even the greats eventually get exposed.
Nadal has pushed it off, often successfully, for a long time. When he won the French Open two years ago for his 22nd Grand Slam title, he took injections that essentially put one of his feet to sleep so that he didn’t feel the chronic pain brought on by a degenerative condition he’s suffered with since he was 19.
Then, a few weeks later, he had to withdraw from the semifinals at Wimbledon due to an abdominal injury. And the harsh truth is we haven’t seen the old Nadal on a tennis court since.
His attempts to come back since then have all been undone either by more injuries, rust or poor play caused by a combination of both. It is sad and cruel in some ways, especially for someone who wants to fight through everything, but it’s what happens after two decades of pushing a body to its limits.
Nadal actually played very well against Zverev, probably as well as he physically could. He made it difficult and created a few opportunities to grab momentum that could have maybe led to something special. He asked a lot of questions that Zverev found answers for.
That’s both the good news and bad news for Nadal, as he contemplates how much more to give. He can still play, and on occasion play quite well. But when you’re an athlete who is no longer able to dictate what happens in a tennis match against the people you used to beat, what are you?
“I was competitive, I had my chances, but it was not enough against a great player like Sascha,” Nadal said. “For me, it’s difficult to say what’s going on in the future.”
Because his game and his body have felt progressively better over the last couple months, Nadal will most likely continue onto Wimbledon and the Olympics, which will be contested on the Roland Garros grounds.
He’s signed up to play the Laver Cup, the team event in the fall where his rival and friend Roger Federer played his last official match in 2022. He’s left open the possibility of coming back to Paris next year, which is why he told tournament officials he didn’t want a full ceremony now. Even though so many things are telling Nadal he’s had enough, there’s still part of him that wants more.
“Maybe in two months, I say, ‘It’s enough, no? I can’t give anything else,’” he said. “But it’s something I don’t feel yet.”
Whatever this last chapter looks like and no matter how much of it remains, Monday’s match was the hard break between what Nadal was and what is he now. There are no more illusions, no more what-ifs and no more miracles. Even at Roland Garros, the fountain of youth does not exist.
None of us usually get to write the ideal ending to our lives or careers or goals, and Nadal is no exception. He understands this better than most because he has forever been among the most human superstars in sports: Empathetic to everyone, respectful to the game and fully aware that even if he is one of the great tennis players of all time, he’s merely a tennis player. There are more important things in the world than hitting a fuzzy yellow ball.
At the same time, his job for the last two decades was also important. Without the kind of hope, joy and inspiration that a great athlete like Nadal can provide, this planet is a tiny bit lesser of a place.
A century from now, it may be hard to fully grasp what that meant. But those 14 titles will still stand as a sporting achievement to be admired forever.