Rafa Nadal's Last Gift, a Message from the Heart: "I Hope My Legacy Is.."

Before finishing his final professional calendar, the 22-time Grand Slam champion captivates us with a spectacular letter written in his own handwriting.

Fernando Murciego | 17 Dec 2024 | 20.06
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Rafa Nadal and a farewell message you won't forget. Source: The Players' Tribune
Rafa Nadal and a farewell message you won't forget. Source: The Players' Tribune

The portal The Players Tribune has been bringing us closer to the protagonists of the sports world through their own experiences. Athletes who dare to sit in front of a blank piece of paper – or a Word document – and express with words what a moment, a tournament, or a complete trajectory has meant to them. The latest guest they have had is none other than Rafael Nadal, ready to explain every feeling that accompanied him over the last 30 years, both on and off the court. A journey through time that you cannot miss, which is why we bring you the full letter written by the greatest Spanish athlete of all time. Enjoy it.

RAFA NADAL'S TEXT IN 'THE PLAYER'S TRIBUNE'

When I was young, I learned a lesson that still resonates strongly in my mind. I'm not exactly sure how old I was, but I think I was around 12 years old. At that time, I loved to go fishing. I love the sea because I am from Mallorca and, in my case, the sea is part of my life. It's about the feeling of being by the sea, sitting on the rocks with your family and friends, or out on a boat; the disconnect and peace you feel is something special. One day, I went fishing when I could have been training. The next day, I lost the match. I remember crying in the car on the way back home, and my uncle, who at that age had a great influence on me and was the one who made me fall in love with tennis, told me: "It's okay, it's just a tennis match. Don't cry now, it doesn't make sense. If you want to fish, you can fish. No problem. But you are going to lose. If you want to win? If you want to win, then you have to do what you have to do first." It was a very important lesson for me. If people see me as a perfectionist, it comes from that inner voice that spoke to me on the way back home. That voice has never left me. One day, I can be at sea. Today, and tomorrow... I have to train.

I wasn't a child who had sports idols. I suppose it has to do with my Mallorcan character. My heroes were people I knew in real life. But when I was 12, I got to play with Carlos Moyà for the first time. A compatriot, also from Mallorca. The French Open champion and the first Spanish player to be No. 1. I was nervous just thinking that I was going to hit some balls with him. It was an unforgettable experience, a window to another world. Tennis was transforming from something just for fun — a children's game — into a real goal to make it a way of life. It made me dream a little more. One day, maybe I can play in Roland-Garros...

But pain is one of life's great teachers. I got injured when I was 17 and was told that I might never play professional tennis again. I learned that things can end in an instant. It wasn't just a minor fracture in my foot, it was an illness. An incurable disease, only manageable: Mueller-Weiss Syndrome. What does that mean? You go from the greatest joy to waking up the next day unable to walk. I spent many days at home crying, but it was a great lesson in humility, and I was lucky to have a father — the true influence in my life — who was always very positive. "We will find a solution," he said. "And if we don't, there are other things in life beyond tennis." Hearing those words, I could hardly process them, but thankfully, after much pain, surgeries, rehabilitation, and tears, a solution was found, and throughout all these years, I was able to keep fighting through it.

Tennis is a sport that demands a lot from you mentally, but there are many moments of joy that I will never forget. The Davis Cup in 2004, Roland-Garros in 2005, of course Wimbledon in 2008. But then there's my first US Open, and when I completed the Grand Slam tournaments circle in Melbourne. And I don't forget those tournaments like Madrid and Barcelona in my country, or Indian Wells in Miami, or Cincinnati, where I won for the first time in 2013, or the beautiful Monte Carlo, or the special feeling of Rome, or Shanghai and Beijing with those amazing fans... Canada, Mexico, Chile, Brazil, my early days in Buenos Aires... so many moments. I am full of incredible memories. Yet, you can never stop demanding from yourself. You can never relax. You always need to improve; that has been the constant in my life. Always pushing your limits and getting better. That's how I became a better player.

For 30 years, the image I projected to the world wasn't always what I felt inside. Honestly, I have always been nervous before every match I've played, that never goes away. Every night before a match, I would go to bed feeling like I could lose (and also when I woke up in the morning!). In tennis, the difference between players is very small, and among opponents even smaller. When you step onto the court, anything can happen, so all your senses must be alert, alive. That feeling, the internal fire, the nerves, the adrenaline of stepping out and seeing a full court, is a feeling that is very difficult to describe. It's a feeling only a few can understand, and something I'm sure will never be the same now that I'm retiring as a professional. There will still be some moments playing exhibitions and maybe other sports as well. I will always compete and try to give my best, but it won't be the same feeling as stepping out in front of the fans in any stadium.

For most of my career, I was good at controlling those emotions... with one exception. I went through a very difficult time, mentally, a few years ago. I was very accustomed to physical pain, but there were moments on the court where I struggled to control my breathing and couldn't play at the highest level. I have no problem admitting it now. After all, we are humans, not superheroes. The person you see on the center court with a trophy is a person. Exhausted, relieved, happy, grateful — just a person. Thankfully, I didn't reach the point of not being able to control things like anxiety, but there are moments with every player where it's hard to control the mind, and when that happens, it's hard to have total control of your game. There were months when I thought about taking a complete break from tennis to clear my mind. In the end, I worked on it every day to improve. I conquered it by always moving forward, and slowly I became myself again. What I'm most proud of is that, although I struggled, I never gave up. I always gave my all.

Tennis is also a teacher of life itself. Most of the time, you don't win the tournament you play in. No matter who you are, at the end of many weeks, you've lost. Real life is the same. You learn to live with moments of joy and moments of pain and try to treat them the same way. In good times, I never thought I was Superman, and in bad times, I never thought I was a failure. What makes you grow as a person is life itself: the failures, the nerves, the pain, the joy, the process of waking up every day and trying to be a bit better to achieve your goals.

In the end, when all is said and done, you get what you give. I hope my legacy is that I always tried to treat others with deep respect. This was the golden rule of my parents. When I was a child, my father always told me: "Inventing is hard, copying is much easier." He wasn't talking about tennis. He was talking about life. Look around you and observe the people you admire. How they treat others. What you like about them. Act like them, and you will likely lead a happy life. I carried that lesson with me into every match I played. I didn't feed off hatred towards my rivals, but off deep respect and admiration. I just tried to wake up every morning and get better to keep up with them. It didn't always work! But I tried... I always tried.

For over 30 years, I have given everything I could to this game. In return, I have received joy and happiness. Joy and happiness, love and friendship, and much more...

Sincerely,

Rafa

This news is an automatic translation. You can read the original news, El último regalo de Rafa Nadal, un texto desde el corazón: “Espero que mi legado sea…”