Italy's Jannik Sinner with the winner's trophy after his victory against Spain's Carlos Alcaraz in the men's singles final at Wimbledon.HENRY NICHOLLS/AFP via Getty Images
If last month’s French Open was the first instalment of a fantastical sports serial, that would make Sunday’s Wimbledon final The Italian Strikes Back.
The headline is that Jannik Sinner adapted after being gazumped in Paris, bringing new levels of precision, aggression and mental strength to his game. Faced with this overwhelming force, Carlos Alcaraz wilted.
An indicative moment came in the third set. Alcaraz was getting pressed backward. Those in his box were shouting encouragement at him.
After getting broken again, Alcaraz slumped in his chair and looked up at them. He put his hand high, then pointed at himself and put it much lower. The implication: “He’s up here. I’m down there.”
One set later, his box tried the same thing – rising and shouting “Vamos!” at him during a break. This was around the same time in the French Open that Alcaraz had turned a loss into a stunning win. This time, he looked up at his team and laughed ruefully. You try coming down here and beating this guy.
Sinner won the match 4-6, 6-4, 6-4, 6-4. He becomes the first Italian man to win Wimbledon.
Judged against the classic at the French, this was more of an enjoyable action film. Not something you’ll watch again. Sinner was good; Alcaraz wasn’t; it happens.
What was most notable about it was their reaction to one another afterward.
If two men who enjoy each other in a non-sexual, often professional context is a bromance, they need a new word for whatever it is these two share. Brifepartner? Bromitment?
Sinner, left, reacts with Alcaraz after winning the final 4-6, 6-4, 6-4, 6-4.Stephanie Lecocq/Reuters
Alcaraz was first with the lavish praise. “It is a really well deserved trophy,” the Spaniard said, beaming at the man who’d just removed his back end and handed it to him in a box. “Really happy to build a really good relationship off the court, but then a really good rivalry on the court.”
Sinner was even more effusive. Initially, the on-court interviewer tried to get the dreary game stuff out of the way.
Sinner slid right out of its way: “Yeah, hello everyone and I would like to start with Carlos, again, an amazing tournament. Thank you for the player you are.”
Later: “We keep pushing, trying to become a better tennis player, but mostly a better person.”
The cynical part of you wonders what the angle is here. Is this some sort of next-gen mental warfare so laser-focused on total destruction that it looks like best buds having fun to the rest of us? Are the two of them going to wait until one or the other has gained the decisive, tactical upper hand and then bro-ghost the other?
Or maybe it’s what it looks like. Maybe what’s shaping up as the most intensely observed sports rivalry of the decade is also a best buds situation.
After winning on Sunday, Sinner refused the usual gesture of modern champions – falling to the ground and rolling around in imaginary heather. Instead, he extended his arms bashfully. His gaze drifted to Alcaraz as he did so.
Sinner shows the trophy from the balcony of Centre Court.Kin Cheung/The Associated Press
Was he rubbing it in? No, didn’t seem to be. At that point, he allowed himself a little disbelieving face-in-hands action. But that was it.
No sprinting into the stands. No whipping the crowd up. All very demure. The many major and minor royals in attendance must have approved.
Is it possible to have a truly great rivalry that has no personality friction at its centre? Not even a little.
Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal showed each other elaborate respect, but they didn’t become friends until they were both close to done. Larry Bird and Magic Johnson are besties now, but they famously hated each other’s guts when they played.
Historically, a great sports rivalry involves some sort of animus. It can be unspoken, but it’s there. You can see it in the eyes. Occasionally, the mask drops in public. The other end is hatred and/or suspicion that cools with age.
It’s a deeply held belief that no one can be great at sports unless they have something to work against, as well as toward. The system, or their circumstances, or – usually – another person who is trying to thwart them.
Neither Alcaraz nor Sinner have any of those things. Sinner could have used his recent drug suspension as rage-fuel, but tennis wound itself in knots to help him get through it. No trauma-mining there. Both men have been tapped for greatness since they were children. The world has laid itself out in front of them.
This Wimbledon showed how neither has an equal aside from the other. You could see that in the hollow faces and awed comments of their best opponents.
Ben Shelton on Sinner: “When you play him, it’s almost like things are in 2x speed.”
Cameron Norrie on Alcaraz: “His level was unreal.”
Sinner applauds runner-up Alcaraz.Toby Melville/Reuters
Maybe the greatest ever, Novak Djokovic, averred that he could still beat both men, but only if he was able to scare up an alternate, presumably much younger, body.
In a sense, Alcaraz and Sinner both won here. They have redefined the parameters of men’s tennis for the next five, 10 years. To win Grand Slams going forward, opponents will most likely have to beat both of them. Good luck with that.
Both seem to get that and revel in it. Sinner called this situation “a dream of a dream,” which he should write down for any future autobiography.
So for now, they will have to invent an imaginary enemy.
“I’m going to work even harder because the young generation before us, they are catching up,” Sinner said while here.
You heard it here first. A wave of kindergarten tennis prodigies is upon us. Just look down. If it helps, we’ll agree that the two best players in the world – a 22-year-old and a 23-year-old – should start watching their backs. As long as they agree to keep this rivalry and this level of play on the rails, we’ll agree with whatever they say.