“I have the worst memories of Spain, but very few bad memories of the Spanish.”
George Orwell, ‘Homage to Catalonia’
I don’t know about you, but for me the summer crossing of the desert, the dry season for soccer, is unexpectedly brightening up tennis, a sport that I thought I would give up in the absence of Rafa Nadal. To my surprise, I found myself in front of the television nine days ago watching the final of a minor tournament, the one at Queen’s in London, which had never aroused the slightest interest in me before.
The reason: the most explosive and charismatic young athlete in the world, Carlos Alcaraz, winner at Queen’s and number one in the world ranking. I am not alone. Wherever you play in the world, the stands are packed. The Swedish Mats Wilander, a great tennis player in his day and today a television commentator, said it: “Alcaraz is the most exciting tennis player who has ever set foot on a court.”
And perhaps, with the possible exception of Novak Djokovic, the most complete. The loquacious John McEnroe, who today comments on the Wimbledon matches for the BBC, struggles to find words that adequately express the admiration he feels for the young Spaniard.
Among the things I noted that McEnroe said of him during the three matches he won at Wimbledon last week: “He has everything, absolutely everything… Backhand, forehand, volley, serve… Brave, tactical, smart, lightning fast, subtle… Equally good in defense as in attack… Adapted to all surfaces… Gives magical blows, that others can’t even imagine… Incredible… Inexplicable… Amazing…”.
Added to Alcaraz’s extraordinary ability is a presence on the track that, at just turned 20, intimidates his rival and dazzles the public. Topicazo to say it from a Spaniard, and more than one guy whose facial features are so authentically Iberian, but he is a bull. He fights like a bull, he puffs like a bull. And he is both a showman. He aspires not only to win but to offer a show. He transmits the arrogance of the one who knows he is a champion, but he likes him because it is seen that he enjoys the game like a child and, as a child, he needs the applause of the greats. When he makes a great shot he does not hide his satisfaction, he is not a point in favor anymore. He heads to the stands for recognition, but not as a bull this time, but as a matador.
At Wimbledon they have already fallen in love with him. Win or lose in the current tournament, he will be the favorite of the English for a while, joining a long list of Spanish athletes that the perfidious Albión has treated as if they were one of his own. Nadal has been an object of adoration on the islands too, as was Manolo Santana, winner of Wimbledon in 1966, in his day. In golf we have Severiano Ballesteros, more beloved in the United Kingdom than in Spain.
In football, well, where to start? Xabi Alonso, Juan Mata, David Silva, Fernando Torres and Cesc Fábregas all belong to that rare species of players admired almost as much by their rivals as by their own fans. In England they are considered, beyond their sporting gifts, as good guys, good people. Just like the coaches Pep Guardiola, Mikel Arteta, Juande Ramos or Roberto Martínez and even Quique Sánchez Flores.
This makes me happy. As a half British and half Spanish who prefers his half Spanish, I am fueled by a prejudice I have in favor of the country in which I have chosen to live. It consolidates me in the idea that the Spanish are happy and friendly, faithful to what they say they value most in life, being good people. There is no better person than Rafa Nadal in the world of sport and that is why he has enjoyed special affection since he became famous in tennis almost two decades ago, when he was the age of his Murcian heir.
Will Alcaraz be as great as Nadal? Will the prince measure up to the king?
Alcaraz has all of Nadal’s resources plus a great serve, a weapon that the Spaniard never had, which adds even more merit –along with the ordeal of injuries he has suffered– to the feat of having won 22 Grand Slam trophies. We will see if the injuries respect Alcaraz more. The very serious possibility that he becomes the best of all time will depend on that. And if fame and money and the love of the crowds allow him, like Nadal, to keep his feet on the ground, on the grass and on the asphalt. I want to bet yes.
