When the agony ends, as end it must, the winner is more apologetic than ecstatic. For he recognizes that in his victory he has humbled, maybe even humililated, a master.
Today Rafa won a record 4th French Open, defeating The Great Federer 6-1, 6-3, 6-0.
During the final, ignoble set, I mailed to a dear friend telling her how disappointed I was. Here is what she replied:
What is to separate this man from the Gods? Every once a year he is confronted with his mortality and to the fact that there is one aspect of his prowess that one other human is better at, thanks to Nadal.
The wisdom of her words made me think - what about Rafa? Everyone talks about Roger Federer and how Roland Garros would be the crowning jewel in his coronation as the Greatest Tennis Player Ever (if not the greatest athlete ever). We all sympathize with TGF for being repeatedly denied the only major title to elude him for four successive years by this ONE man (for everyone acknowledges that were it not for this kid from Mallorca, Pete's 14 and Andre's Slam would have been conquered years ago). The French crowds, delighted with TGF's charm and fluency in their language, have unsuccessfully rallied behind him against the defending champion. But had it not been for Fed, Rafa would have undoubtedly been Numero Uno in men's tennis. For now, however, he has to stay content with winning at Roland Garros and being the best Number Two ever in men's tennis.
So in a way, they each take away from the other, and in that taking away, add to each other's greatness. Their evident mutual respect and affection only adds to the allure of this great rivalry. Shakespeare could not have scripted this better - for in the decades to come, no mention of The Great Roger Federer will be complete without naming Rafael Nadal. And this is how it is, this is how it should be.