![Céline, towel on her shoulder, offers a cone of fries to her smiling female opponent beside a clay court, scoreboard reading 6-1 6-4.]](https://grandchelem.be/wp-content/uploads/20261101-2c5143-en-list.webp)
Alcaraz beat De Minaur 6-1, 6-4 in the final in Vienna. Seventh defeat in seven matches for the Australian. I watched the ceremony that evening, towel still on my shoulder after interclubs (club league, Belgium’s weekend team league), and I recognised myself.
Because at the trophy presentation, De Minaur said: “it’s really annoying to play against you”, laughing. Then that Alcaraz is “one of the nicest guys on the tour”. Annoying and nice. I live that every Sunday at ten. There’s a player on the opposing team, lovely at the clubhouse bar, unbearable on court 4. She gets everything back. I invite her for a cone of chips afterwards, and I lose anyway.
The 6-1, 6-4, I won’t pick it apart: I don’t have the patterns, I wasn’t in the zone, I was at the bar. But I know one thing. At my level, a score like that is always the strings.
And my down-the-line forehand, against that kind of opponent, I make it. Not every time, but I make it.
Céline, that player on the other side, have you ever beaten her?
Once, in 2023. It was pouring, and she isn’t used to the bubble. That counts.
What I like about De Minaur is that he congratulated “his whole team”. I congratulate the whole opposing team too, even the captain who writes down the scores in biro. Seven defeats in a row against the same person is a number I know. Two practice sessions away, mind you.
It’s true, we checked: We Love Tennis.
