He is a man who needs no introduction. Especially here, where his statue adorns the grounds. But when Rafael Nadal came out Monday for his first match of the 2024 French Open, the courtside announcer did his thing. Taking a breath, he summoned Nadal by name and then ticked off the years he had won the title.
2005
2006
2007
2008
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2017
2018
2019
2020
2022
Fourteen in all. It’s a joke of a tally. The recitation of which enabled a somber occasion to start with some levity.
Presumptively, this was to be Nadal’s last French Open, his final raging against the dying of the light. He turns 38 next week. His current ranking slums outside the top 250, the kind of grim math that comes when your body doesn’t let you play—much less win—many matches.
He entered the tournament unseeded, jarring in itself. And, the tennis fates did their thing, yielding a first-round opponent of … Alexander Zverev, the fourth seed, the player who won last week’s big preview event in Rome, one of the top contenders, the last player at Roland Garros to push Nadal.
So it was these last dance vibes that came edged with a wince. The Rolling Stones or Elton John can announce a final tour. They may not hit every note. But they also don’t lose in straight sets to, say, Mumford & Sons.
Tickets to the most anticipated first-round match in the history of tennis—it’s not hyperbole: try and name another—fetched $5,000 on the secondary markets and brought out both royalty and tennis nobility. Though he plays Tuesday, Novak Djokovic was in the stands. As was Carlos Alcaraz, the betting favorite to win this event. Iga Świątek, the defending women’s champion, finished her first-round rout, showered and took a seat.
From on court to in the stands at Philippe-Chatrier 😎@iga_swiatek capturing her own Rafa memories 🤳#RolandGarros pic.twitter.com/88K8o7OG9l
As for the match itself … it played out as expected. Nostalgia and hope are powerful intoxicants. But eventually, they regress to the mean, and talent and time win out.
There were moments when Nadal did a convincing Nadal impersonation, striking the ball ferociously, picking off volleys, looking like the clay court impresario whose career record at this venue, going into Monday, was 112–3. There were times when he looked like a man in his late 30s—playing a fine opponent, more than a decade younger. There were times when he looked fresh, and there were times he looked physically spent, as one would expect from any player who had gone more than 450 days without playing a best-of-five match.
Nadal was, inauspiciously, broken to start the match, and Zverev took the first set 6–3. Nadal broke Zverev and served for the second, electrifying the crowd. When he failed to close, the deflation was palpable. When he lost the second set in a tiebreaker, this went from an exercise in potentially witnessing history to an exercise in potentially witnessing Nadal’s final match, at least at the French Open.
The third set was Nadal’s insistence on not going quietly. He got up an early break but then gave it up and fell 6–3, 7–6, 6–3. Respectable? Absolutely. But not the result befitting a 14-time champ.
You cite the comical, flattering stats, you also have to cite the downers. For the first time in nearly 20 years, Nadal lost in the first round of a clay event. For the first time here, he lost in the first round. For the first time ever, he has now lost back-to-back matches on clay.
Credit Zverev for compartmentalizing, ignoring the occasion, locking in mentally, and simply bringing his flagrant talent—especially on his backhand—to bear. He can now pivot from this momentous match to trying to win his first major, a distinct possibility. (Zverev’s appeal of a penalty order issued by a German court stemming from domestic abuse allegations made by his ex-girlfriend goes to trial during the tournament.)
As for Nadal … who knows? He called off a retirement ceremony the tournament had planned. It’s not that he’s being coy about the endpoint of his unrivaled career. It’s that, by all accounts, he genuinely doesn’t know when the ride will end. Ironically his last match might be in Paris in two months, assuming he fulfills his vow to play in the 2024 Olympics.
He left the court wearing a look of resignation. One that suggested he has played the French Open for the last time. But also—a champion to the end—that he genuinely thought he could take this match.
On Monday, Zverev won. So, alas, and as ever, did time.
JON WERTHEIM
Sports Illustrated executive editor and senior writer L. Jon Wertheim is one of the most accomplished sports journalists in America.
