The Art of Being Rafael Nadal

 

Its easy to get hooked on to Rafael Nadal. Let’s face it, there’s not much not to like about the kid: jumping on the balls of his ankles before the match starts, stooping for a picker-upper orange-flavored energy sachet, and his genuine passion for the game. “Yeah, but, he’s always so in-you-face with the fist pumps”, say Those Who Just Don’t Get It. Let’s get this clear just once, since i find it extremely tiring explaining it over and over to casual fans – Nadal’s medium of fist-pumping is the exact opposite of what Hewitt tries to do: while the Little Aussie’s only goal is to piss the opponent off in at “gotcha, you little..” kind of way, the Nadal Pump’s sole purpose is to pump himself up. If you pay attention and notice, he makes sure to turn his back to his opponent during his routine pumps, or to just eye his box to make SURE the guy across the net knows that he does not mean to offend. It’s just part of the spanish passion that plays out – some guys keep it in and pump themselves up verbosely in their own heads (pass the Federer, please)- while others like the occasional verbal telling-on (did i just make that up?) to keep them going. Please know, the boy means no harm. He’s just a lovepot of good nature.

 

Which takes us to the subject of Nadal’s good nature.

 

These youngsters coming up, they certainly forget to pick up their Thank Yous and Pleases before they wiped their shoes on the doormat, didn’t they? Mr “Merry” Murray seems to find peace by muttering an (audible) f-word in every other of his mumblings. Or worse, he directs them to Brad Gilbert. When the likes of Djerkovic, ahem, i meant Djokovic (did you really now, Plath?) go on public television and say things like “I only have three words for Roger Federer: ‘He is going down!’” – are not only ungentlemanly (besides being something that you will ultimately regret, come Play Day) and need a bit of sharpening of the math skills (they’re four words not three, Djoker) – you take that spectrum of the scale and try to place the likes of Nadal onto it, and you’ll find he’s a magnet that just won’t stick there.

 

If you haven’t had the pleasures of reading a post-match interview of his, you are far far behind friend, for not only is the spanish-tinted english the most amusing thing since Premiere League footy, you’ll find him effortlessly being humble, gracious, and unwilling to point fingers or raise any sort of stinging remarks to the otherwise Prodding for Controversy Since the Doughnuts aren’t Fun This Morning journos. No really, Nadal has been pounded with “So Ljubicic says he wants Federer to win in the final, not you, what do you have to say to that?” and “So Monfils recently said in an interview he can beat you easy, what do you have to say to that” and the suchlike, yet the Spaniard That Jesus Loved bows with good grace, and a showing of a very Christian upbringing, miraculously avoids saying anything the least bit retaliatory, rather, RESPECTS the quoted player in question.. jesus…

 

They even fish him with the occasioanl Federer – but it fails. “So you’ve played Federer six times and won the last four – you have beaten him on every surface, surely, you are no longer afraid of him, and know you have a great chance in the final, what do you have to say to that?” – and the Kid takes it better then an angels wings, correcting the questioner quickly that Federer is number one in the world, most probably in history, and that’s that, next question please, no?

 

Again, how can you NOT love the Kid?

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