Grateful emptiness

It’s been almost 9 years to the day since I’ve expressed my thoughts here. I suddenly stopped feeling the need to do so… until today. Or yesterday by the time I’m publishing this post.

September 15th, 2022

It all started like any other day: coffee, work, meetings, emails, more coffee, more meetings… until 4:30 pm when suddenly time stopped and I froze. I felt a knot in my stomach and goosebumps all over my skin. My eyes were watery even before reading the announcement. I felt it, I knew it in my gut, somehow I’ve been expecting it for some time without ever actually being ready for it: the end of his professional tennis career, the end of my hopes of ever seeing him winning Wimbledon live, the end of tennis as I loved it.

For more than 20 years he has been the heart of this sport, the man to beat, the pinnacle of grace, elegance, talent and class. Every tournament came to life as soon as he entered the grounds, stepped on court or attended a press conference. Win or lose, his presence would always convey peace, warmth, calm and confidence to everyone watching.

During his matches, I have cried tears of immense joy and gutting pain more times than I would like to admit. I’ve stayed up long nights, skipped classes, ghosted friends, rejected dates and ended relationships just to watch him play with every chance I got… I knew it was a limited time offer and that I had to make the most of it, although it was never and will never be enough.

I chose to watch perfection, to see it up close, to study it. Sometimes I could anticipate his every shot, every grunt, every “come on”, every fist in the air. Watching him, I felt alive, alert… connected. He was my energy boost, my motivation, my inspiration, my faith in humanity.

I’ve had a (one-sided) relationship with him for 21 years, since I first saw him playing against Sampras at the Championships in 2001. My appreciation, respect and love for his game have never wavered, nor will they ever falter. But for now tennis has lost its spark, the lights will be dimmer on Centre Court as the GOAT has left the tour.

We might survive, but it will be a bleaker existence without his kindness, humor and modesty.

Next weekend I will be there, saying goodbye and crying my eyes out while he will play his last matches of his professional career.

Thank you, Roger! It’s been an honour and a privilege to be your fan!