It's Wednesday and there's no room for a pin on the Rafael Nadal court, because here is condensed a history of 21 years and twelve titles in the RCTB, the story of the tennis player who named the court.
Nadal (37) fights, reborn these days in Pedralbes, who knows for how long, and it's all onomatopoeia.
(Well, he ends up defeated, 7-5 and 6-1, surpassed by the pace of Alex de Miñaur, a tennis player who maintains his rictus and pose, does not get scared, does not break down before the power of his opponent).
We heard an oooooh, a boom, also the agonistic aaaaargh of the manacorí, all enthusiasm and courage in his tennis autumn, autumn in spring.
The myth is watched by his parents, his sister and his wife (this time, little Rafa, the baby, does not appear on the scene, unlike the previous day), everyone wants the sun to rise, but the dark clouds appear in Collserola and De Minaur is not Cobolli.
-Historically it is the tournament par excellence that we have had in this country, the best players have passed through here and I have looked at the history of this sport, and it is played in a tennis club, something that makes it very different -he says later.
Alex de Minaur passes balls but also cuts them, cuts them again and again, and each of those cuts is a China in the shoe of the manacorí, who still runs forward, gives his all as he has always done, but this It's not the same as always.
The chronicler contemplates the imperturbable Australian, today the eleventh racket in the world, and believes he is contemplating a Terminator 2.0.
“Come on,” Nadal says to himself, he says it quietly and those of us standing on the court barely hear it.
“Let's go,” the manacorí seems timid, who in other times shouted like a bull and now is giving up his life to score his first game.
By then it is already 25 minutes into the match, and the Australian who does not fail, does not let the myth breathe, is a hammer with his right hand and then his insistent left shot.
–Haaaaaala – Nadal laments when he misses a winner –. No, man, nooooo.
Threatening, the gray clouds continue to loom in Collserola.
At five fifteen, the organization turns on the lights.
Below, Nadal lights up.
At forty minutes, the Manacorí hooks a backhand cross to break De Miñaur's service (3-3, the Balearic equals the break he had conceded at the beginning), and then, for a few minutes, the Aussie feels the power of Nadalidad .
Sebastián Fest coined the concept four or five years ago: Nadalidad as a spirit, the ability of the manacorí to transform a stage, make it his own, tune it, crush the opponent and bury him behind the curtain.
Nadalidad, this time, is an illusion, a mirage that confuses the viewer and, for a few moments, De Miñaur.
For a few moments.
Well, the Australian corrects himself, tempers himself, stops playing with the drop shots and lengthens the points, troubles the beast, whose service is slow (it rarely exceeds 180 km/h) and hinders him. At 1h10m, Nadal gives up the first set.
From there, the game is decided.
-There have been moments in which I saw that it was yes and others, in which it was not. What I can't do is reach 100 in such a short time. I haven't played for almost three months and today I couldn't afford to play for two and a half hours. I missed two forehands at the end of the first set and I missed the first set and there I already saw that it would not be possible - confesses Nadal, who attends to the press in a hurry, just as he leaves the court, because now he has no You don't have to get overheated, or relax, or check what's coming tomorrow.
Now, at least in Barcelona, it is the end.
The Australian runs downhill and Nadal finds himself facing an Everest.
And he will not be able to promote it, because he lacks the competition rhythm, he lacks the body, he lacks the flow.
Faced with the embryo of the second set, the chronicler resigns himself and savors the moment, the last Barcelona episodes of a unique tennis player.
We visualize its dawn, almost at the dawn of this century, the tank top, the pirate pants, the ribbon holding the hair of that teenager who was also a gladiator, the antithesis of the dancer Roger Federer, the astonishment of all his adversaries, because one after another they fell at his feet.
Nadal's future in Pedralbes has marked an unrepeatable era, 21 years and twelve titles, everyone standing when the Balearic player sends the last shot long, at 1h52m into the match, at 6:02 p.m., witching hour : 7-5 and 6-1.
Faced, with the bright, colorful uniform as he has always dressed, a bag on each shoulder, Nadal raises his arms, toasts the public and feels the pain of what was and was gone. He leaves amidst the praise of De Miñaur, who says goodbye to him in Spanish, “it has been wonderful to live this with him”, he leaves Barcelona as he always wanted to leave, fighting on earth.
As he leaves, he says goodbye, although not completely:
-A week ago I thought it would not be possible, and yet I have played two games. On a personal level I feel reinforced. I said goodbye with a 6-1, but that's what had to happen. I have to act in accordance with what has to come now: Madrid, a little more; Rome, a little more. And Paris, let it be what God wants.
