Have a friend? Try having a rival.

Why Rafael Nadal is the Rolling Stones of tennis

I have a weird obsession with rivalries. They are incredibly fascinating to me. It might have something to do with the fact that I wouldn’t have become a tennis player if it hadn’t been for K.

K. was my rival when we were 12 years old. She was consistent and fit, never missed and played GREAT drop shots. She was even-keeled. I was, well, the opposite. Let’s be frank, I was a hot mess on court when I was 12. When she beat me for the first time, I was shocked. I had never been beaten this way before. It was the day I decided to become a professional tennis player and show them all. Who were they all? Nobody knows but I was convinced I was wronged by somebody.

You can see why I would obsess over rivalries. Without K. I wouldn’t be here today.

In my opinion, a great rivalry consists of three things: Similarities, differences and a common goal.

Let’s take a recent one from pop culture which is the epitome of a great rivalry: Barbie vs. Oppenheimer. Barbie is pink and colourful, feminine and fun, made by a woman. Oppenheimer is dark and moody, masculine and dire (the subject matter, not the film), made by a man. The difference is blatant. Yet, I also saw two hit movies that revived the industry after a pandemic with an original screen play that was not a superhero plot (some would argue against this, but you know what I mean). They both produced a captivating world around two protagonists who pushed the story forth with groundbreaking ideas. They had a lot in common, you see? The common goal was obvious: break box office records. Barbie and Oppenheimer profited from one another. The participants in rivalries usually do.

Often times, one is the grittier version of the other. Think about it, the drug-raided Rolling Stones versus the clean-cut Beatles. “Dirty” X-tina Aguilera versus alleged virgin Britney Spears. Denim-short wearing Andre Agassi versus Polo-shirt wearing Pete Sampras. As a fan, not only do you decide on who you prefer but also what you signal to the world to be. Or choose to be. I could go on and on about this. The differences are always evident, the common goal is assumed but it is the similarities that we like to brush over. Two American tennis players dressed by Nike and dating actresses. Two young women exploited by the music industry for their sex appeal. Two boybands essentially. Just because they are artists doesn’t make them less of a boyband.

In tennis (and sports in general), rivalries are the icing on the cake. They are the narratives fans flock to and the thing that brings new people in.

I’m convinced that the one problem we have had on the WTA side for a while is the lack of consistent rivalries. It seems to be slowly changing with Iga Swiatek and Aryna Sabalenka exchanging the world number one ranking last year around the US Open. But we need them to play each other in the big finals regularly. As we need the other top women. This year at the Australian Open the most electric atmosphere on the women’s side we had was during the semifinal match between Aryna Sabalenka and Coco Gauff. It was the re-match from the US Open final and people were locked in. It was briefly like time had stopped and the outside world had stopped and all that existed was us in this stadium, protagonists and observers, a vacuum in the space-time continuum. The moment passed and the world carried on as ever but we had had that flicker.

The men were lucky, weren’t they? They just so happened to have the three greatest tennis players to ever play the sport competing with each other at the same time. How lucky is that? Novak Djokovic has surpassed Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal in part because he couldn’t be part of their rivalry, I am certain. It was like walking into a railway carriage and all seats were already taken. Now, everyone else would have just sat on the floor or taken the next train. Not so Novak, no, he just went ahead and build his own carriage.

What a rivalry Roger and Rafa’s was! Roger with his beautiful technique and delicate footwork, the polo-shirts and white cardigans, the tender hair flip, the man who never seemed to sweat (except that one time at the US Open against John Millman, what was up with that?). On the other hand, el toro, the bull Rafael Nadal who brought a new kind of athleticism to the game, who played like his life depended on every single point. There was no lightness in his game. He made tennis look just the way it is: hard. Hard freaking work. And yet. And yet! Both men are about the same height, about the same weight, have the same exact wingspan. They both like the simple things in life, being with their family near the sea or in the mountains. They are funny. And both had the ability to excel in moments when others would falter. Until Novak came and shattered it all. There are some that will never forgive him for it.

A good rival will bring out the best in us. I would have never reached the TOP 10 if my friend Angie Kerber hadn’t been breathing down my neck the entire time. I secretly knew she was the better tennis player, I felt it every time I stepped on court with her, but if I did all things right und remained tough and competitive, I could keep up with her for at least a short period of time.

me with all my remaining rivals, photo by wolfgang stahr

It’s a strange thing, a rival. Having somebody that wants exactly the same things you want sometimes to the detriment of you. After all, in tennis you win or lose. This is not soccer where you can run down the clock (it wouldn’t be Finite Jest if I didn’t throw shade at another sport at least once, next time: golf). At the same time your rival is the only other person in the world that understands what you’re going through. All my opponents, all my rivals, all these women I shared so many valuable years of my life with, I kept them at bay. I kept them at an arm’s length, fearing they would see the vulnerability I carried around with me and use it against me the next time we played. Only understanding later, after I retired, that they were also the only women in the world who understood exactly what was going on at all times. Because they were going through it too. My opponents, my rivals, my friends. I miss them.

Who will make me better now? Only time will tell.

In the meantime: Are you more of a Beatles gal or do you roll alongside the Rolling Stones? Do you save yourself for marriage à la Britney or do you prefer things dirty like Christina? Running-forehand Pete or return-inside-the-baseline Andre? Roger or Rafa? Or are you just a lone wolf like Novak is?

Somewhere in the periphery of my mind I am aware that the world is more complex and that technically, technically, you could like both things at the same time and possibly even others. I grew up in tennis, however, in a bipolar world where at the end of every single day only two ideas remained: victory or defeat.

Things that make me happy:

My second book just had its release day. Roughly translated the title says “It’s time to cut and run” and it’s about my last year as a tennis player. I call it my concept album. The twelve chapters of the book are the twelve months of the year and a stand-in for the process I went through in my last outing as a professional athlete. From grief to anger to freedom, it’s all there.

a brief review of my new book

Things that make me unhappy:

I wasn’t invited to the Academy Awards. Again. How dare they.

I remain hopeful and trust that so do you. I wish you a week full of 10%-fat greek yogurts drizzled with honey!

As ever, truly yours, Andrea