What does happiness ultimately come from? Baldness that we had forgotten about, a flashy bandana more endearing than our first hippopotamus comforter, and even pulls of underwear that taste like you’re coming back. 680 days after his last match on earth, Rafael Nadal became a tennis player again at the Barcelona tournament, and the entire black market for reselling tickets to Roland stands up as one man to celebrate.
An almost vintage Rafa
To be honest, we shook our ass for ten seconds, the time to see him serve a second asthmatic chick’s ball at 149. That’s because we read Toni Nadal in the oracle every evening before bed, and the Rafa’s uncle had warned, his former protégé could do everything on a court since his muscle tear in Australia, except serve. Besides, the gesture was a little shaky, sometimes, and the top speed did not exceed 185 km/h, a figure which will not reassure the permanently anxious.
A little more wrapped up than we remember, although it is often said that purple does not do justice to those who wear it, Rafa quickly found his bearings on the court…Rafael Nadal. After all, why bother waiting for him to die when the guy has won the tournament 167 times, right?
In short, after two or three adjustment games, the Spaniard, falling back into limbo in the ATP rankings, quickly got around the little problem of Cobolli, a young Italian hopeful of 21 years and 1m21, approximately. Great forehand lifts at Tsunami height, two or three bleeding backhands to accelerate, and roll old age. 6-2, 6-3 in 1h25 against a player who has paid Monfils and Augier-Alassime this season, not bad right? Obviously, it promises to be tougher from Wednesday against the De Minaur moped. But let’s not shy away from our pleasure