Grace

by Craig Hickman


Getty

The Rafa Slam will not come to pass.

Imagine my surprise at the scoreline that flashed on the television when I awoke today. Didn't get to see any of the match until the reply on ESPN late this afternoon. Because of my onging love affair with cooking, I was right out straight all day. Had to cook a lunch for 25 people for my community soup kitchen (roasted chicken, beans, kale, salad, homemade biscuits, and marble cake) and cater a private dinner for 9 at my farm (scallops with fennel buerre blanc, organic carrot ginger soup, organic farm-raised roasted leg of lamb with sour cream and leek mashed potatoes and haricot vert, and Hazelle's Mississippi sweet potato pecan pie with homemade vanilla ice cream), and now I'm beat. But I've sat down for the first time all day to write this drive by.

From what I saw of the match in the background, David Ferrer ran the world No. 1 ragged. Rafa's first service game took forever. And in that forever, he injured himself.

He finished the match.

To his credit, he tried not to make any excuses. Tried not to diminish his compatriot's excellent tennis. Tried not to magnify the loss as he expressed gratitude for all he has won.

In the brief bit of his interview I was able to catch, I was reminded of the Rudyard Kipling quote that appears over the player's entrance to Wimbledon's Centre Court:

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;

It takes grace to achieve that. And grace is what I saw in Rafael Nadal today.