The German sitting beside us in the Court Philippe-Chatrier press box an hour before Rafael Nadal vs. Novak Djokovic knew he was doing wrong.
This was a section for yellow badges. He had a red badge. But over where he was supposed to sit, it was already bursting.
The first time an usher told him to leave, the German pretended not to understand French, then English, and then German.
The second time, he pretended to be on his phone – body contorted to obscure his credential.
“Well played,” I said, after the usher wandered off in search of easier prey.
“I do not think it is over,” the German said, a bit breathless.
He was right. They got him on the third pass.
Eventually, the crashers had all been located and replaced with the good people. Those still waiting for seats had to be screamed off a stairwell where they were attempting to form an encampment. Throughout the match, you could hear bursts of shouty frustration in the hallway behind.
It’s not usually like this at the tennis, or at any other sport. But the opportunity to be there at the end of an era will make people do things they wouldn’t otherwise do.
Three days into the Olympics and it’s not going to get any bigger than this. Two legends who share 46 grand slam titles and maybe one good knee.
Nadal-Roger Federer will always be more iconic, but Nadal-Djokovic is the greater body of work. Sixty matches, including this one. Twenty-eight finals, including nine grand slam finals. With Federer now gone, these two are the institutional memory of men’s tennis in this century. When they go, a lot more than a couple of libraries will burn.
At best, this would be the Thrilla in Manila – a last epic battle between two of the greatest ever.
At worst, it would be Muhammad Ali-Larry Holmes. One man near his peak versus another who’s lost his legs.
It didn’t turn out as people wanted, but what ending ever does?
The Ali-Holmes scenario seemed likeliest at first. Every time Djokovic got Nadal running with a drop shot – which was often – it seemed more cruel than clever.
Down 5-0 in the first, the crowd hailed Nadal coming out of a break, but they’d lost heart. So had he. After planting his second serve into the net, Nadal pulled back and slapped his thigh – an exceedingly rare expression of mid-game frustration.
Paris Olympics: Top seed Novak Djokovic survives wobble to ease past error-prone Rafa Nadal
He did manage to pull the game out, avoiding getting blanked in a set. That would have been the first time that had ever happened to him at Roland Garros.
It’s even possible Djokovic gave it to him. The Serb declined to have the umpire step down and check on a critical ball that looked out.
It was only in the last moments that it became a great occasion. Nadal pulled himself back into the second set – 4-4. The crowd was suddenly delirious. Nadal was reanimated. At which point, Djokovic decided to pull even with them and hit the boosters.
After winning the game that put him up 5-4, Djokovic cupped a hand to one ear. The crowd began to boo.
Part of what will make it hard to lose these two is that we, the audience, know their roles so well. How hard will it be to accept a new comeback specialist who isn’t Nadal, and a bloodless court killer that isn’t Djokovic?
At the end, the score was the sort you’d expect in a second-round match – 6-1, 6-4. Just not this one.
Djokovic finished it with an ace. The pair embraced, though not for long or with any particular emotion. Djokovic went back to his chair and appeared to mime playing the violin – one of his new go-to’s – to a section of the crowd behind the player seats.
It’s not particularly Olympic, but nor is cheering when a guy hits a double fault to lose a game. Djokovic could be forgiven a little pique.
He was in the middle of stripping when Nadal walked off. There wasn’t any ceremony to his exit. He hiked his bags over his shoulders and just started going. The crowd called out to him. He spun, acknowledged them and kept going. Djokovic was also clapping as he left.
And that may be that.
Every record will be broken, but it’s hard to believe any theoretical future player will own a court the way Nadal owned this one. His loss on Sunday was only his sixth at Roland Garros in more than two decades.
Nadal has been coy for months about whether or not he is leaving. He was coy at the French Open, and then at Wimbledon, and then here: “Who says it is the last dance?”
Eventually, it will occur to him that he’s not extending anything. He is only taking small chips out of the edifice he spent so much time constructing. Losing like this to Djokovic is one thing. It’s not good, but it’s forgivable. Even Djokovic gave him a pass – “He was not at his best.”
The risk is losing this way to some journeyman or kid, and then doing it again, and again. That cannot be permitted.
Reflecting on all those other, better encounters over 18 years, Djokovic said afterward, “We will eventually appreciate this match very much.”
One of you might.
By the end, the crowd was spent. Or that could have been the sun. It was hammering down on Monday.
As everyone got up to leave, a different German sitting near us, one with the right badge, called out to the usher of doom. He held out his phone. The usher moved to take it from him. He’d snapped about a thousand photos for people by this point.
The German waved his hand away.
“No, no, both of us. Both of us,” he said, pulling the smaller Frenchman into his embrace. “You made this day so special for me.”
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