Stubborn Rafa reaps rich reward
OPINION: The rejuvenation of Rafael Nadal is a curious concept, given his mystique has always been derived from his image as a man-child, one whose primal intensity on court is leavened by bashful, innocent charm.
But in his performance against Grigor Dimitrov, winning a fivehour spectacular in a slam semifinal just months after joking with Roger Federer about playing a charity match in Majorca, he offered a sense that, aged 30, he had rediscovered the elixir of eternal youth.
Shorn of heavy strapping around his knees, or of worries about his wrist, Nadal played with a strut and verve that one feared had dimmed due to his litany of injuries. Here, on this balmy Melbourne night, was a reminder of everything quintessentially Nadal: the scowls, the grimaces, the screams of ‘‘Vamos’’, even the theatrical flourish with which he shakes out the sweat of his hair, like a dog who has just returned from a satisfying dip in the sea.
To observe him in this mood was to feel the comfort of rewatching a favourite film, and the exhilaration of knowing that he is not about to be pensioned off any time soon. This Australian Open has been an invigorating nostalgia rush, and nobody encapsulates it better than Nadal.
While Federer, truth be told, has never really gone away, reaching at least the semifinals in each of the past five majors he has played, the Spaniard has struggled since 2013 to convince that he could ever recapture what made him unique.
Only 18 months ago, he was bundled out of Wimbledon by dreadlocked journeyman Dustin Brown in the second round.
His revival in Australia this past fortnight has been one to make the heart soar. Although an unaffected Balearic boy at heart, Nadal is pure aristocracy in his sport. Some of his records, not least his nine French Open titles in 10 years, might never be broken. But it is that dash of the exotic, that streak of faintly piratical charisma, for which he is justly adored.
Nowhere is his fan base more febrile than in Melbourne, a city shaped by a century and more of immigration from southern Europe. It boasts the largest Greek population outside Athens and offers the perfect stage for Nadal to channel his Mediterranean passions into matches. While he has lifted the trophy here only once, he has compiled a canon of stunning displays under the lights of Rod Laver Arena. His compelling war of attrition with Dimitrov was one that demanded instant inclusion on the list, alongside the 2012 final against Novak Djokovic all 5hr 53min of it - and the lastfour slugfest with Fernando Verdasco in 2009, when he produced his famous ‘banana ball’ winner around the net-post.
Not even his own coaching team can fully fathom the depths of Nadal’s endurance.
It had looked for all the world as if Dimitrov, swinging for the fences with his forehand early in the fifth set, was finishing the match the stronger, but the 14-time major champion was cussedness personified in resisting the younger man’s power.
Carlos Moya, the former world No 1 who joined Nadal’s corner late last year, was exhausted by it all. ‘‘It was unbelievable,’’ he said, looking drained. ‘‘He’s such a fighter, a warrior. I have no words to describe what I saw.’’
In the jubilant aftermath, few sported a wider grin than Uncle Toni. For three years, a struggling Nadal has been under pressure to look beyond his family for inspiration, with John McEnroe arguing that his only hope of a revival lay in jettisoning his uncle as a coach. Nadal, a sensitive soul deeply wedded to his roots in Manacor, would not hear of it.
He values blood ties above anything - indeed, his fourth-round defeat by Robin Soderling at Roland Garros in 2009, his only loss in Paris for four years, was widely attributed to the trauma of his parents’ separation - and he had no intention of ditching the man who had guided him to 14 majors.
Against all expectations, that stubbornness is reaping its reward. Nadal is a one-off, a gloriously talented and relentlessly obsessive character who demands everything to be just as he likes it, right down to the alignment of his courtside water bottles.
At last, after a fallow period that we had worried might be terminal, it all appears to be coming right once more.