Alcaraz: from retirement fears to winning at Grand Slams

Alcaraz, between decline and the Grand Slam: Part II

A player who withdraws from Cincinnati and, in all likelihood, the US Open with a wrist injury, and of whom it is said that "he's not coming back to tennis, he's retiring," ends up, months later, winning Grand Slam matches. That is the paradox running through the second part of a chronicle that began as an announcement of decline and has ended up as an inventory of comebacks. The starting material is not an opinion: it is a sequence of results, withdrawals and returns that leaves insiders and outsiders alike disoriented.

The first installment of this chronicle peine with the suspicion that the player from Murcia was finished. The second starts with the realization that Spanish tennis is producing champions at a pace not even the most optimistic anticipated. And in between, a detail that sums up the tone of the whole affair: someone asked whether the thread was "in decline" and the answer was that decline begins "when he moves into Bugs Bunny's little house."

The injury that was supposed to bury him

The turning point was not a defeat. It was a medical report. Alcaraz withdrew from Cincinnati and, as was hinted in the conversation, "probably the US Open" because of a wrist injury. The prevailing reaction was not compassion: it was an epitaph. "Frentemono isn't coming back to tennis, he's retiring. DEAL WITH IT," declared one voice, adding a phrase that aged poorly: "I can't see him playing at 35." Another participant went further: "all he needs now is to start losing his hair, and that's it."

The technical diagnosis, however, was more nuanced. "That kind of injury is serious," it was admitted, and a cautious roadmap was proposed: "he'd have to play some minor tournament over 3 sets and see how it goes." Prudence, in an environment that had already written him off, sounded almost like provocation.

The calendar that disproves the funeral

The facts, which are stubborn, kept coming. "If the doctors give him the green light on Friday, Alcaraz would start training this coming Monday," it was reported, with the possibility of "playing the US Open after some warm-up tournament." Then came confirmation: victory in Vienna over Khachanov "4-6 and 6-7." Later, a doubles match alongside Mensik that was described as a "great match" and "spectacular."

The announced decline was turning into a packed schedule. And not just his: the Spanish tennis ecosystem began producing headlines of its own.

Davidovich and the Shanghai Masters 1000

The other big story of the period was Alejandro Davidovich Fokina, who won the Shanghai Masters 1000. "He's done it, he goes down in history as the first Spaniard to win here," was the celebration, with a scoreline of "1-6, 7-6 and 6-4" after coming back from a first set "to forget." The victory was described as "epic, guerrilla-style" because he "had the match lost until Jódar choked the tie break and collapsed physically."

The triumph had a structural significance: with it, Spain notched its 65th Masters 1000 title and consolidated its position as the country with the most different champions in that category, 16, compared with 10 for the United States. "Spanish tennis is the absolute best, we're the world leaders of the whole wide world," someone summed up, with more enthusiasm than syntax.

Jódar, Landaluce and the generation pushing through

The conversation turned to the names expected to take over. Jódar made his debut at Wimbledon and won "3 sets to zero" against a local player; he then beat Moutet and Musetti, the latter "above all," and faced the very best. "Right now Jódar is inferior to Sinner, Alcaraz and Zverev, and also to Fritz on this type of court, but against everyone else it's no longer clear that he's below them," was the reasoning.

Landaluce antiestéticatured in the cruelest episode: he had "four match points" against Zverev and fell "13-11 in the tie break of the third set." "It makes no sense that Landaluce only plays this well against the very top players," was the lament. The comparison with Alcaraz was inevitable and, at the same time, nuanced: "the Murcia player is a generational talent who had a complete game at 19."

The end of an era and the Big 3's succession

The backdrop was historic. "For the first time since 2003, no member of the Big 3 will be present in the second round of a Grand Slam," it was pointed out, with the realization that "the greatest era of men's tennis is fading away." Djokovic lost in the first round and the stat went viral: 23 years of uninterrupted dominance were coming to an end.

The debate over surfaces also surfaced: "if everything were hard court, matches would be serve and volley, a disgusting throwback to the Sampras era," versus the thesis that "great players are made on clay."

The question that remains open

With Alcaraz winning, Davidovich making history and Jódar and Landaluce knocking on the door, the chronicle of an announced decline has been left without a protagonist. Or has it? The question is not whether Spanish tennis has a succession plan, but whether that succession can withstand the pressure of a country that already counts its Masters titles by the dozen. The answer, like everything in this sport, will come with the next draw.