I hate Rafael Nadal with a passion.
There you go. I said it! So please, stop giving me that look. From the reactions I get, expressing my dislike of Rafa is like committing some unforgivable crime against humanity. How can someone have the heart to criticize a man who gives everything on the tennis court, furiously chasing every ball like it’s match point, sweat flying from his glamorously long locks? How can someone dislike a man who hosts charity matches, still lives in a small house next to his parents, and captivates millions with his charmingly-accented English and earnest smile?
I devoted endless months trying to figure out what was wrong with me. For after all, the problem with hating Nadal is that it reflects more on me than on him. Nadal is a perennial underdog … and after all, how can you root against the underdog?
Full disclosure: I have always been a diehard Roger Federer fan. I first began watching tennis in 2006 and loved Federer from the first moment. His forehand was a controlled arc of destruction; he moved over the court like it was part of a complex dance. He seemed unstoppable; no one could oppose his grace and God-like precision. Unfortunately, I would be proved wrong.
Federer is sponsored by Mercedes; Nadal … by Kia. Somehow, that sums it all up.
I remember it so clearly when I first saw them play. I was watching the 2007 Shanghai Masters Cup semifinal. At first, I laughed at the contrast. Federer was his usual sharp self, ripping forehand winners while gliding across the court. I almost felt sorry for Nadal, the skinny teenager in the bright blue muscle shirt, scurrying along the baseline to retrieve Federer’s shots. But then, Nadal’s tenacity began to trouble Federer, and Federer actually began to sweat. Was Federer showing signs of his mortality?
A day of trauma I will never forget: Sunday, July 6th, 2008. The day that Nadal beat Federer in the Wimbledon finals. It was terrible to witness, but ironically Nadal winning is not what bothers me. What really irks is that people root for Nadal because he is the underdog. This never ceases to amaze me. People view Nadal as a fighter. Regular people can emulate the way he plays. He constantly fights and scraps for points, running down every ball, while Federer plays effortlessly and glides on top of the court. Nadal is all too human; Federer seems like a machine. Federer is sponsored by Mercedes; Nadal … by Kia. Somehow, that sums it all up.
Yet when looking objectively at this historic rivalry, Nadal has a 22-10 (accurate as of Oct. 2013) -advantage in their matches. Nadal is in his athletic prime; Federer is slipping toward the twilight of his career. Not to mention that Nadal seems genetically engineered to defeat Federer, as though some higher force was trying to stop Federer in his quest for unrivaled dominance. His high bouncing topspin gives Federer nightmares, and his doggedness frustrates Federer. Nadal is far from an underdog. So I suppose my ultimate problem with Nadal is that he’s portrayed as the brave challenger to the invincible Fed, tireless in his heroic quest to unseat the Swiss Maestro.
So that’s what I really hate about Nadal: the incorrect narrative surrounding him and the romanticized light the world bathes him in. He’s not just Goliath — he’s Goliath pretending to be David. Underdog status is too important to squander on those who don’t deserve it. There are underdogs out there, and the world should save its cheers for those who need them. Nadal will do just fine without our misplaced emotional support.
Just one thing. After spending so much time writing about my hatred of Nadal I realized something. A come-from-behind kid from a Spanish fishing village who lives next to his parents and leads a simple life. He can’t be that bad … right?
And that’s the problem. Say what I will, hating Nadal will always just be a hair out of reach.
Written in October 2013 for college applications.