In the past, I used to actively look for indications about whether Rafael Nadal was close to getting back to his best. Was he hitting his down-the-line forehand with authority? Was he stepping into the court during the rallies? Was he flattening out his crosscourt backhand? Conventional wisdom suggested there were always a few tell-tale signs that heralded the next Rampaging Rafa Run.
But ‘conventional wisdom’ has never worked in the case of Nadal and clay, and it likely never will. Once the tour hits the dirt, all of his struggles magically disappear. Not hitting his down-the-line forehand frequently enough? No problem; I'll just batter everyone into submission with my crosscourt bombs. Not hitting the right spots with the serve? Who needs a serve on clay anyway when you've got the best ground game in the business.
To be fair, it wasn't like Nadal was coming into the claycourt swing this year with a lot of problems. He had reached the final of the Australian Open, Acapulco and Miami, and his points total before the start of the clay swing – 2,235 – was actually the third highest of his career (after 2009 and 2014). But the failure to get over the hump at the last hurdle, and the tendency to retreat far behind the baseline when put under pressure, would have been rankling his camp.
Did it help that he faced Albert Ramos-Vinolas in the final of Monte Carlo, instead of, say, Andy Murray or Stan Wawrinka? We thought it was helpful that he faced Sam Querrey in the Acapulco final, but that match showed us that no draw is ever ‘lucky’. If a player has played well enough to reach the final of a tournament, it means he is a force to be reckoned with, irrespective of his reputation or ranking.
In that context, Nadal's third-round Monte Carlo match against Alexander Zverev may have been more than a simple claycourt lesson for the ages. Sure, Zverev didn't play a very smart match, but he still hits the ball bigger than most on the tour, and is exactly the kind of player that can give Nadal problems – even on clay.
Once Nadal had emphatically got that obstacle out of the way, you could almost feel the waves of confidence emanating from every pore of his body. You don't normally associate the word ‘swagger’ with the almost comically-humble Nadal, but there's something about the way his legs eat up the clay as he sprints across the court, hammering groundstrokes into the corners, that screams out one thing loud and clear: he is the boss.
‘Boss-like’ is exactly how I'd describe Nadal's play against Dominic Thiem in the Barcelona final yesterday. Before the match started, it seemed like the Spaniard's early claycourt run in 2017 had been buildling up to this moment. He had faced some quality claycourters in his previous nine matches, but none that could consistently hit the ball with as much power as Thiem. In some ways, this was Nadal's first real claycourt challenge of 2017.
So what does he do? Turn in a vintage performance that would leave the Austrian shaking his head in resignation, of course.
It wasn't just the way Nadal played the big points or controlled the proceedings with his forehand that impressed us yesterday. It was the way he defused Thiem's power – and there was plenty of that on show – that told us there was no way he was going to lose.
In case you have never seen Thiem play, you should know that the man thinks every shot in every rally of every match needs to be sent into orbit. He doesn't just hit the ball; he throws himself at the ball, letting his feet fly off the ground as he lashes his racquet like a jackhammer. Logic would dictate that he needs to learn the importance of conserving his energy, but when you're 23 years old and built as strongly as Thiem, how can you be bothered by silly little things like logic?
That approach almost served him well too. Nadal couldn't find a way to break the Austrian's serve right until 5-4 in the first set, and a tiebreaker seemed likely at that stage. But Nadal's defense, as it has so often in his career, helped turn the tables at just the right time. Except that this time it was his backhand, rather than his forehand, that did all the damage.
A lot has been said about how much better Nadal's backhand has looked this season; it was absolutely lethal during the Australian Open, and was almost as effective over the American hardcourt events. It makes sense, then, that it would look even better on clay.
Thiem looked to pound at the Nadal backhand every chance he got yesterday, but the Spaniard always seemed in position, ready to crunch a strong crosscourt reply that would give him back the ascendancy in the rally. Considering how Nadal has utterly mastered every other element of claycourt tennis, is it really fair that he now owns this aspect too?
With Thiem serving at 4-5, 40-30, Nadal's backhand swung the point in his favour, and that was pretty much that. The second set was one-way traffic, and by the end Thiem looked so frustrated at every one of his bullets coming back with interest that he started swinging even wilder than usual. Breadsticks have a tendency of transpiring when a player reaches that stage.
Nadal's improved net play has also been the talk of the town this season, and not without reason. His reflex volley winner against Hyeon Chung in the quarterfinals was a shot that came straight out of McEnroe-land. The volley still seems a little impossible, no matter how many times you watch it.
The second leg of ‘La Decima’ has been completed, and I won't get into the total and incomprehensible ridiculousness of that stat – let's just say it is unpredecented by any standard. But the danger with such ludicrous landmarks is the kind of conversations and expectations they invariably elicit.
Can he complete the third leg too, capturing his 10th Roland Garros title to go with his 10 titles at Monte Carlo and Barcelona? Can he sweep the claycourt season, winning Monte Carlo, Barcelona, Madrid, Rome and Paris (something he's surprisingly never done before)? Can he get back the World No. 1 ranking and establish the Rafa Reign over the men's tour one more time?
These are all loaded questions, but I also think they are a little unnecessary at the moment. Nadal hasn't looked this carefree and injury-free for a long time; is he even looking that far ahead, or is he just focusing on one match at a time? Knowing Nadal, you can be sure it is the latter.
The man has achieved more than anyone ever has on clay, and likely ever will. Yes, it would be nice if he wins a 10th Roland Garros title. But since nobody else has even gone past eight, would it really matter if he didn't? A return to the No. 1 spot would be the Achievement of the Decade. But hasn't he notched up enough ‘___ of the Decade’ accolades already?
10 is the number of the season. But it's been more than 10 years – 12, to be precise – since Nadal first started making our jaws drop with his astonishing claycourt prowess. Over the past decade and a quarter we've learned to never count him out when the tour moves to European clay. But the fact that he still manages to surprise us – whether it's with his backhand, or his ability to press the ‘reset’ button whenever he wants to, or his skill in neutralizing every new big hitter's power – is perhaps the most remarkable aspect of his legacy.
Rafael Nadal may or may not win the 2017 French Open, and he may or may not end the year ranked World No. 1. But he doesn't need to do either of those things; his career, and 2017 season, are already worthy of being celebrated every second of every day.
But if he does manage to do both of those things, will we be surprised?
What is the foot injury that has troubled Rafael Nadal over the years? Check here
