French Open will miss Rafael Nadal, the man who humbled and humanised Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic

As it happens with most ageing stalwarts contemplating retirement, for Nadal, Roland Garros next year wouldn’t be merely about getting the feel of the glowing powdered red-brick surface under his feet one last time. It could be business as usual, history shows he rarely leaves Paris without the silverware neatly packed in his cabin baggage.

At 36, he is the defending champion of the tournament he first won as a teenager and went on to win 13 more times. His 6-3, 6-3, 6-0 win in the final last year, within days of comprehensively beating the great Novak Djokovic in the quarters, makes the tennis world stretch that famous phrase about life’s certainties – death, taxes and Nadal on Court Philippe Chatrier.

At this French Open, along with the cheque and trophy, the winner is likely to unwittingly get caught in the media frenzy around Nadal’s final outing at Roland Garros next year. He is likely to be on the promotional posters of Nadal’s last dance on clay. He will also get to play the anti-hero that the world will want to lose. Sports fans – they are suckers for fairytale endings. Every sporting great dreams of a perfect end, but few get it. Nadal fans will wish he gets his 15th French Open title, and this is no wishful thinking.

Roger Federer on grass, the New Zealand All Blacks at Eden Park, Manchester United at Old Trafford, Baggy Greens in Brisbane – sport has seen many spectacular streaks but ‘Rafa at Roland Garros’ is much more than mere overwhelming domination. Nadal didn’t just own the clay court and build a kingdom on it, he shaped world tennis’ most engaging era ever that is about to end. He made the tennis narrative richer and also maintained the balance of power.

Nadal on clay played a big part in humbling and humanising his contemporary greats Federer and Djokovic. He was the disruptor who didn’t allow world tennis to first be a monopoly and then a duopoly. Federer and Djokovic had the skills to win consistently on clay, but not on Nadal’s watch. The two could have swept all Slams they figured in, but there was always that heartbreaking trip to Paris that denied them glory. On the other hand, the Spainard, himself an all-court player, would have to deal with Federer on grass and Djokovic on hard courts. The world would be divided into three fan groups and everyone remained invested in the GOAT race. They all believed their man would eventually come out tops, and they weren’t being delusional.

Statistics show Nadal was a bigger obstacle for the other Big Two. Federer was twice denied a Slam sweep – 2006 and 2007. Nadal at the French was too much to handle even for the modern-day great at the peak of his prowess. In 2010, Nadal too would miss the ‘all four’ opportunity as Federer pocketed the Australian Open. On four occasions, the year would start with Djokovic winning the Australian Open, kicking off speculation about the ‘fittest of them all’ finishing the year unconquered. The dream wouldn’t last long as Nadal at the French would burst the bubble.

What is it about Nadal that makes bonafide greats like Federer and Djokovic – players capable of adapting and reinventing themselves – look inadequate and inconsistent when they find themselves facing him on clay? The answer takes one to the Spanish island of Mallorca where a 4-year-old, who spent all his time playing football on the street, picked up a tennis racquet on the clay court at a local academy where his uncle was a coach.

Years later, Nadal would recall how from his very first ever hit of a tennis ball, he found the game easy. It was something Uncle Toni, his travelling coach for most of his career, also saw. The hard taskmaster would be strict, force him to run the extra yards and, most importantly, nipped the footballer in his nephew. He didn’t let Nadal drift back to the street. Unknowingly, Toni would be denying Spanish footbal’s tiki-taka golden generation of Xavi Hernandez, Andres Iniesta, Carles Puyol, Cesc Fabregas, Sergio Busquets a fleet-footed, hardworking and creative teammate. For all you know, Nadal could have been the Messi that Barcelona had and Spain envied.

Very early in Nadal’s life, he had become a part of an ecosystem with an all-encompassing red clay topography. The timing of Nadal’s entry into tennis was immaculate. The 1990s was the time Spanish tennis was on an upswing. This was when Sergi Bruguera had won the country’s first Grand Slam in two decades – of course, it was the French Open – and the sparklingly new infrastructure built for the 1992 Olympics was attracting kids with sporting dreams.

Tennis in Spain had a very scientific regime that was rigorous but not regimental. On the clay courts around the country, beginners like Nadal learnt important lessons that would stay with them for a lifetime. They had to do tough drills but after a while, were allowed to slide around the clay courts to do their things – play drop shots and test their audacious game plans. On the slow court, the grind was harder and one needed a killer forehand to win a rally. As the surface sucks out pace off the ball, there were no free points.

On clay courts, players need to strain every sinew to muster brutal force. Compare the forehands of Federer and Nadal to understand the nuance of tennis’ most-used shot – the forehand. Federer, the Swiss champion born and bred on indoor hard courts, moves forward to meet the ball. On the astro-turf, since the bounce is true and the ball travels fast, players can afford to be less cautious and throw their entire body into the forehand. They can also use the pace of the ball.

In contrast, on clay, the natural variation of the surface makes a player circumspect. They wait for the ball to bounce and get behind it. And then like Nadal, they need to give their all to it. Nadal, with his exaggerated lasso-like swing of the racquet, imparts the ball heavy topspin – this gives him control and makes the ball jump at the opponent. Anything above shoulder height isn’t easy to return across the net.

Coaches in Spain also ensure that their players have a 360 degree vision of the court. During on-court cardio training, kids don’t just move laterally and forward, they are asked to fall back. This helps them retrieve the ball and wait for the window of opportunity to move towards the net again and attack. The fluidity to move from offence to defence and vice-versa is what makes Nadal and his compatriots succeed on clay courts.

Nadal’s scampering runs on the baseline, his stumbling rushes to the net, and the scurrying dash to reach impossible balls will be missed by fans. His ankle would be hurting, his hip pain would get excruciating, but Nadal never gave up. He would be in tears because of agony, get angsty because of the injury-ridden body, but still sweat and grunt to finish matches. Nadal knew that even if he was half-fit, the clay courts would be kind to him. Nadal and clay go back a long way.

The game’s ultimate trier’s long run is coming to an end, but around the baselines of the world-famous clay court, there are enough Nadal footprints to make him immortal and remind the world of his incredible journey.

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