Endure, put up with whatever comes your way, learn to overcome weakness and pain, push yourself to breaking point but never cave in – Toni Nadal
After well over two hours on court, Rafael Nadal turns his back to the Rod Laver Arena, dabs in vain at the streams of sweat and stares forlornly as the saltwater pools at his feet. Few athletes have ever epitomised such strength and unbreakable spirit as Nadal but, as the 35-year-old pushes wearily through his pre-serve rituals, even the most believing have surrendered to doubt. Already trailing by two sets and now facing three break points, the cruelty of age and the excellence of Daniil Medvedev have merged into a force that feels for all the world unstoppable.
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When Lance Armstrong was at the peak of his powers, after recovering from testicular cancer and before his downfall and disgrace, the cyclist was asked what he feared more: losing or death? “They’re the same thing,” he replied. It might seem like ridiculous machismo, a sense of drive so consuming it’s in fact dangerous, but such a singularly extreme outlook is what so often separates sport’s true elite. In Rafael Nadal’s case, it was inherited.
When Nadal first began training under his uncle Toni, he’d come home in tears but refuse to tell his mother why. If he forgot to bring his water bottle, he wouldn’t be allowed to have a drink. If his concentration slipped, Toni would belt a ball at him like an alarm bell. Once practice was finished, he’d have to sweep the court clean after all the other boys had left. His life existed within the white lines of that regime, tested and pushed to a breaking point every day.
Nadal has spoken since about how those years left him feeling “insecure”; about how after he won junior competitions, Toni would cancel celebrations and remind him that most prodigies burned out and were condemned to be forgotten. It was a sense of inadequacy reinforced at every step, no matter what Nadal accomplished, because there was always another level to reach.
It’s easy to drift into hyperbole in sport because to the vast majority of us, that sense of will and sacrifice is almost incomprehensible. We are taught to have balance and moderation; to push ourselves but also protect ourselves; that family should come first. But for Nadal to not just reach the top of the sporting world but then stay there, those values are an enemy to success. That was the message Toni drummed so deep into his mind that it governed his every choice, from the relentless dedication that’s caused his body to break down to the decision to delay having children until his “sporting life determines it”. It’s the total and unyielding philosophy that differentiates between the special and the truly extraordinary. And perhaps, no modern athlete has come to embody that image quite so recognisably as Nadal.
“I play each point like my life depends on it.”
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Two sets down, three break points. In effect, three match points. Nadal’s probability of winning stands at just four per cent. If you go by the punctured atmosphere on court, those odds feel generous. Nadal isn’t resigned to defeat, but he is so unusually and visibly deflated, concludes John McEnroe. Amid all the strain, as fatigue sets in and hope slips away, the Spaniard executes a wonderfully disguised drop shot. 15-40. Medvedev then hesitates under the pressure of the finish line and a mistimed backhand sails long. 30-40. Nadal rips a cannon of forehands, swinging his way out of the corner, fighting like it’s life and death. Medvedev is rocked back behind the baseline and then can’t scamper to another drop shot. The crowd erupts with a sense of belief that accounts for far more than just a last stand. And in that moment, the momentum turns and takes history with it. Nadal wrestles back control across two gruelling rallies encompassing 40 shots. He has reached breaking point and refused to cave in.
The astonishing fightback that followed will be remembered as Nadal’s greatest triumph, not only for the fact it made him the most successful male player in history, but for how it perfectly encapsulated his force of nature. That utter refusal to be beaten that’s so intrinsic it might as well be embedded in his DNA, ingrained as a child under an unforgiving flame and still so indestructible all these years later. If some feared the fire was finally doused when Nadal reckoned with retirement last year, the final showed how the best can still summon ways to make it burn brighter. It is the resolve required to achieve something unmatched. And for now at least, Nadal stands unparalleled and alone.
After five hours and 24 minutes that began in despair and then stretched beyond disbelief, Nadal didn’t collapse to the floor with joy and relief like in days of old. Instead, he stood at the net and covered his smile in surprise. It had been the sort of Herculean effort that belongs to a mythical world. And just for a second, even Nadal seemed shocked to learn quite how far and deep his courage continues to run.
