For what Nadal offered us over the course of his rousing career are lessons of — dare I say it? — civilisational significance. I am not talking about how to hit a backhand, or his ground-shot accuracy, or cardiovascular range. And I am not talking about the serial victories, many of which have characterised the tributes that have been written in the Spaniard’s honour since his defeat by an impressive Alexander Zverev on Monday, which may prove to be his last outing at the competition he made his own.
No I am talking about the mortality of what we call character. Here’s a man who fought to win but who showed dignity in defeat; who sought to deny his opponents that which they most desired but who grasped that competition, at its best and most stirring, coexists with respect for one’s adversaries and the rules. It is why I’ll remember that sinuous forehand and indomitable will; I’ll remember his conquests at Roland Garros and beyond, but the more vivid memory will always remain the humanity and decency that made him such a beloved icon. I am not sure we’ll quite see his like again.