Aug. 28, 2023
Dear Reader,
The Editorial Team of Textile is suggesting today only one item for your personal reading, it is entitled “Carlos Alcaraz Is Bringing the Thrill Back to Tennis” and can be accessed for your reading at only this link as Newsletter: https://textile-future.com/archives/118387
Thank you for calling back next Tuesday for the new edition of the TextileFuture Newsletter. The text of this newsletter was published firstly by the Wall Street Journal Magazine and we proudly present it to you.
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Here is the start of the proposed item!
Barely out of his teens, the phenom made a blistering ascent to become the top-ranked player in the world—and has electrified fans as he defends his title at the U.S Open.
By guest author Jason Gay from the Wall Street Journal Magazine. | Photography by Theo Wenner | Styling by Jenny Hartman
THIS WAS supposed to be tennis hell.
The reign of the Big Three is winding down, and it should be sad, sad, sad. Roger Federer is retired, watching Wimbledon from the royal box in an immaculate khaki suit. Rafael Nadal, injured and absent, faintly clings to the dream of a final rodeo on the red dirt in 2024. Novak Djokovic remains a fearsome champ at age 36, but he’s starting to look lonely, like the last senior stuck on campus.
This prospect used to terrify tennis fans. The sport spent two decades spoiled rotten by a historic trio with a combined 65 major tournament titles—23 for Djokovic, 22 for Nadal, 20 for Federer—their epic battles seared into our memories like children’s birthdays. The top of the men’s game had never been so heavenly, but when the Big Three finally wrapped it up? Yikes. The sport’s next generation looked unready for the job, barely able to mount a challenge. Tennis heaven was going to decay to an arid desert of uninspired also-rans.
There was no limit to how dull it would get. We were all going to wind up watching pickleball.
Then The Kid showed up, and changed everything.
CARLOOOOS!!! CARLOOOOS! CARLIIIIIIIIITOS!
It is early August, just three weeks from the start of the 2023 U.S. Open, and in the upper deck of Sobeys Stadium in Toronto, 20-year-old Carlos Alcaraz, the most exciting player in tennis, the men’s world No. 1, takes in the view below. I thought the newly crowned Wimbledon champ might be able to sit up here unnoticed, catch a bit of practice by a fellow competitor, the Canadian star Félix Auger-Aliassime, but no such luck.
VAMOS CARLIIIIIIIIITOS!
Alcaraz has been discovered. Fans in the stadium’s lower bowl crane their necks skyward, trying to get a look. By now, Alcaraz’s cropped, first-day-of-school haircut is as recognizable as his wicked forehand. They begin to chant his first name, singsong style.
CAR-LOS! CAR-LOS! CAR-LOS!
Alcaraz in Toronto with ATP’s Nicola Arzani. Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com.
Alcaraz waves back appreciatively. He is still in phase one of superstardom: the shiny, grateful, almost goofy-happy stage, when he can’t quite believe strangers notice him, shout his name or start wearing old-school tennis bucket hats because he started wearing old-school tennis bucket hats. “I love it,” he says of bucket-hat mania, which began at Wimbledon when he grabbed one from a Nike display. “It’s something new for me.”
A short while later, as he hurries down the stadium’s concrete steps to his next appointment, Alcaraz keeps apologising to fans who have gathered for autographs. He looks at each fan directly, clasps his hands together and says, “Sorry,” over and over. At this point, I think I can tell the difference between a fake sorry and a real sorry. These are real. I think if they let Alcaraz wiggle out of his appointments, he would stand here and sign autographs for the next 14 years.
Alcaraz celebrates after winning a point in the men’s singles quarter final match during the 2022 U.S. Open. He went on to win the tournament and returns to this year’s Open as the men’s world No. 1 player to defend his title. Photo: Corbis via Getty Images
When Alcaraz walks into a room, he says hello and offers a handshake to everyone inside: the person he’s there to meet, the person he’s not there to meet, also the person who just happens to be there—congratulations, you’ve just shaken the racket hand of a two-time major champion. To most fans he is Carlos, though no one in his personal orbit calls him that. Carlos is his father’s name, his grandfather’s, too. To his friends, he is Carlitos, or Charlie. Call him what you want. It’s all good.
“This has been a dream for me since I was a little kid,” he explains. If, like me, you own jeans older than Carlos Alcaraz, this observation sounds funny, but for him, it’s been a longer road. “Obviously, it’s my job,” he says. “But I am enjoying this time.”
Today I’m following Alcaraz through the fine print of tennis stardom—a media day at the National Bank Open, where he will be put through the paces of interviews, photographs, TV spots, social media blips, a full press conference, a funny video stunt with player Casper Ruud for the ATP tennis tour and who knows what else. Everyone wants a piece of The Kid, who was an infant when Federer won his first Slam, grew up in Spain under Nadal’s stirring shadow, just shocked Djokovic in a five-set opera at Wimbledon and plays tennis like he’s from outer space.
A
“The most complete player I’ve seen at that age,” says Paul Annacone, coach to Federer and others, now an analyst at the Tennis Channel. “He seems to have the perfect disposition to handle this: loves the game, loves to compete, yet knows you don’t always win…just a remarkable young talent.”
As the sport’s new prince, Alcaraz is beginning to receive its spoils. He is Nike’s fresh tennis comet, a new wrist for Rolex, behind the wheel of a BMW, in his skivvies for Calvin Klein. This summer he posed atop a steam trunk as he was announced as a brand ambassador for Louis Vuitton. When Alcaraz needed a last-minute tuxedo for the Wimbledon champions’ dinner (he hadn’t packed one for the trip), LV came through with the fit.
Stars from other arenas come to see him—an Alcaraz match is an experience everyone wants to have.
“Incredible to witness in person,” says the NBA star Jimmy Butler, an Alcaraz friend who has sat in his box at matches. He explains: “He never gives up on any ball, he’ll dive, he’ll do something miraculous just to try to get the ball over the net and win a point.”
Alcaraz courtside at Sobeys Stadium. His coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero, has cautiously managed his early professional career, shielding him from hype—until he was too good to ignore.
The attention is still a mind-bender for this child of El Palmar, a village in Murcia, Spain, about a half hour from the Mediterranean. Dad Carlos was a professional player, and young Alcaraz grew up on the local club courts, where he was recognized early as a prospect but carefully developed. Alcaraz’s success is a triumph of rationing: His coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero, cautiously managed his early professional appearances, shielding him from hype until he was too good to ignore.
“It’s crazy how fast he plays. If you hit one weak ball, you’re in massive trouble.” – Tommy Paul
Last year was the breakthrough. In a blistering three-month stretch, Alcaraz won the 2022 Rio Open, the Miami Open, the Barcelona Open, and then he beat Nadal and Djokovic in back-to-back matches on his way to capturing the Madrid Open. In the fall he brought New York City to its feet for his first major, becoming the youngest men’s No. 1 since the ATP began rankings in 1973.
“It was faster than I thought,” Alcaraz tells me. “I did not expect to win a Slam at age 20. I did not expect to win Wimbledon. Everything came so, so fast.”
Alcaraz taking a selfie with a young fan. Distressed Nike hoodie, USD 65, and Nike jacket, USD 120, similar styles at Nike.com.
WE HAVE to talk about his tennis.
On the court, Alcaraz is pure joy. He possesses sublime technique and flair, having mastered the fine details of the game but also adding the flourishes that make it his own. The first thing you notice is speed—Alcaraz’s ability to sprint everywhere, especially side to side, almost falling into the champagne-drinkers in the front row to return a ball a competitor would have abandoned three shots before.
“It’s crazy how fast he plays,” says Tommy Paul, a U.S. pro who’s had memorable battles with Alcaraz. “If you hit one weak ball, you’re in massive trouble.”
“I want to yell while I’m sitting in the stands,” says Jimmy Butler. “I understand you can’t, but I want to yell, ‘Don’t worry—we’re never out of this!’ He’s going to try to get to every ball.”
Then there is Alcaraz’s shot-making, which is comically precise. Young phenoms tend to lard on the power—they’ve yet to develop touch or the patience to toy with pace, so they brawl their way through matches. Alcaraz has ferocious power—he can beat you from the baseline with a howling forehand or backhand, and his serve might simmer at 120 mph. But he can also hit a delicate low volley, a vintage shot that hasn’t been in vogue since Pete Sampras roamed in baggy shorts. He can push a slice forehand for a winner—sort of a change-of-pace knuckleball that isn’t too fast or slow but freezes opponents in their tracks.
Carlos Alcaraz making the rounds at Sobeys Stadium in Toronto; Alcaraz’s rackets and tennis gear; signing autographs for fans in Toronto.
Then there’s the drop shot. When Alcaraz is done, there will be canonical poetry dedicated to his drop shot. A dropper is a hazardous tool; players can fall in love with it, deploy it too much or dump it weakly into the net. Alcaraz was not immune—“When he was 16, 17, 18 years old, he did it too much,” says Antonio Martinez Cascales, a dean of Spanish tennis and Ferrero’s former coach, who is coaching Alcaraz in Toronto. Today Alcaraz’s drop shot is his signature weapon, cleverly disguised, set up by a torrent of forehands and backhands, right up until he turns his wrist and flicks a vicious, back-spinning eggshell over the net.
“Lethal,” says Tommy Paul.
Even with his ferocious tools, Alcaraz’s greatest skills might be mental—“his ability to strategize to the opponent,” says Brad Gilbert, the ESPN analyst currently coaching Coco Gauff. Tennis requires focus and real-time problem-solving, and many talented players fall apart upstairs. This was always a killer advantage for the Big Three—they’d been in big matches so many times, on the largest stages. Versus a less experienced opponent, they wielded a mental edge before the match began.
“[Carlos] is sui generis. We haven’t seen anything like it. He’s like a new strain, you know?” – Caitlin Thompson
Alcaraz does not rattle. He frolics in high-pressure situations. On his inner right arm is a tattoo with the letters CCC—a tribute to a blunt motto his grandfather Carlos instilled in him: Cabeza, Corazón, Cojones.
You could feel a tectonic shift in the fifth set at Wimbledon. Historically this is Novak Time, when the Serbian all-timer summons life and plunges the stake. But Alcaraz was unrattled. With King Felipe VI of Spain and Brad Pitt watching attentively, Alcaraz kept smiling, running, being patient, unlocking Djokovic’s tendencies—learning, as Andy Murray said recently. Suddenly it was Djokovic who was unsure, on the run. The lion who had won the last four Wimbledons was toppled at last.
“He’s seen the very best of the best, his whole life,” Billie Jean King says of Alcaraz’s coming of age during an era when Federer, Nadal and Djokovic dominated the sport. “He knows nothing else but those three.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com, Rolex watch, USD 32,100, similar styles at Rolex.com.
Alcaraz prepares for such scenarios, says Ferrero, a former world No. 1 who won the 2000 French Open and played against all of the Big Three himself.
“To stay mentally active during long matches is something every player should practice,” Ferrero tells me. Though Alcaraz is still adapting to the five-set grind, “We work to be ready for all kinds of situations during the matches.”
Tennis pioneer Billie Jean King thinks Alcaraz isn’t merely the successor to the Big Three—he’s their spiritual baby. “He’s seen the very best of the best, his whole life,” King explains. “He knows nothing else but those three.” Djokovic more or less said the same after Wimbledon, comparing Alcaraz’s on-court maturity to Federer’s, his competitiveness to Nadal’s, and his body-sliding defensive skills and backhand to his own. “He’s basically got the best of all three worlds,” Djokovic said.
How does a young player possibly respond to such praise? “Crazy,” Alcaraz says, when I ask him about Djokovic’s compliment. “He’s played with the best, with Rafa, with Roger. You don’t expect that.”
“To stay mentally active during long matches is something every player should practice,” says Alcaraz’s coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero. “We work to be ready for all kinds of situations during the matches.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, stylist’s own vintage Nike sweatshirt.
The subtext to all the buzz around Alcaraz is this: The Kid is not just a star. He may also have the potential to be one of the best ever. Whether you adored the Big Three, or got bored by their dominance, this is an astonishing prospect, a unicorn birth after a 20-year rainbow. And unlike other phenoms, who can get forced upon the public by the media or eager sponsors, Carlos and the mania he inspires are not the product of premature hype or an obnoxious commercial campaign.
We see what he’s doing with our own eyes.
“He is sui generis,” says Caitlin Thompson, the publisher and co-founder of the tennis media and lifestyle brand Racquet. “The fact that they didn’t manufacture him is so beautiful…we haven’t seen anything like it. He’s like a new strain, you know?”
“This has been a dream for me since I was a little kid,” Alcaraz says of his success on the tennis court. “Obviously, it’s my job, but I am enjoying it this time.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com.
Managing expectations will be essential. Tennis is a sport with a grim history of premature burnout and superstars who walk away. Björn Borg was done by 26. Women’s No. 1 Ash Barty recently left at 25. Talented children get shoved into competition while they’re in elementary school, collecting thousands of hours of training and grinding out travel with no guarantee of return. The machinery is merciless. A 17-year-old can look and sound 52. A 25-year-old might seem 90.
Alcaraz has had a few setbacks—a disastrous bout of cramping in the 2023 French Open semis versus Djokovic, which cost him the match—but he’s rallied after disappointments. His relentless playing style likely means a heightened risk of injury; he missed the Australian Open this January because of a bad hamstring. One suspects that as Alcaraz ages, he will dial down his cross-court scrambling, to preserve his energy and health.
Much of this will fall to Ferrero, who agrees that keeping Alcaraz on track will be a challenge. They intend to stay careful with his schedule and training, trying to keep his mind and body fresh. “This is the hardest thing to manage when winning a lot,” Ferrero says. “Keeping him motivated is important.”
Alcaraz’s athleticism is “incredible to witness in person,” says NBA player Jimmy Butler. “He never gives up on any ball, he’ll dive, he’ll do something miraculous just to try to get the ball over the net and win a point.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com. Similar styles at Nike.com. Grooming, Samantha Pickles; production, Makers.
Alcaraz wants a long run. At one point, I ask him what his favorite song is to listen to before matches. “Eye of the Tiger,” he says, referring to Survivor’s Camaro-tastic Rocky anthem from 1982. The Balboa oeuvre is Alcaraz’s favorite movie series—he’s fond of Rocky IV and all the recent Creed films starring Michael B. Jordan as Apollo’s son. These are not the chosen films of an exhausted athlete contemplating an escape from sports.
It helps that he has the Big Three to model himself after. Alcaraz needs only to look up the road for three examples of players who played for a very long time, with consistent excellence and few valleys. He will locate his own generational rivals—his duel with the 22-year-old Italian star Jannik Sinner comes to mind—but there will always be an inspirational debt to the legends before him.
A couple weeks after our meeting, Alcaraz plays another epic thriller with Djokovic, this time in Cincinnati, where he loses in a deciding-set tiebreak. Afterwards, Alcaraz sits shrunken in a chair, in tears, a towel over his face, but he still manages a smile when the crowd cheers for him. It’s what makes Alcaraz so compelling—his total commitment, and irrepressible joy. Djokovic remains awed. “You never give up,” he says during the trophy ceremony.
The prospect of a Djokovic-Alcaraz tangle at the U.S. Open is a tantalizing possibility that already has the tournament in a flutter. Alcaraz would also love one more opportunity to play Nadal if he returns for a last hurrah. There will always be a part of him that’s sad he never got to play Federer, the eldest of the Big Three. But this is his sport now, and the timing is impeccable. Carlos Alcaraz has arrived. Tennis heaven remains.
VAMOS CARLIIIIIIIIITOS!
Alcaraz has been discovered. Fans in the stadium’s lower bowl crane their necks skyward, trying to get a look. By now, Alcaraz’s cropped, first-day-of-school haircut is as recognizable as his wicked forehand. They begin to chant his first name, singsong style.
CAR-LOS! CAR-LOS! CAR-LOS!
Alcaraz in Toronto with ATP’s Nicola Arzani. Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com.
Alcaraz waves back appreciatively. He is still in phase one of superstardom: the shiny, grateful, almost goofy-happy stage, when he can’t quite believe strangers notice him, shout his name or start wearing old-school tennis bucket hats because he started wearing old-school tennis bucket hats. “I love it,” he says of bucket-hat mania, which began at Wimbledon when he grabbed one from a Nikedisplay. “It’s something new for me.”
A short while later, as he hurries down the stadium’s concrete steps to his next appointment, Alcaraz keeps apologizing to fans who have gathered for autographs. He looks at each fan directly, clasps his hands together and says, “Sorry,” over and over. At this point, I think I can tell the difference between a fake sorry and a real sorry. These are real. I think if they let Alcaraz wiggle out of his appointments, he would stand here and sign autographs for the next 14 years.
Alcaraz celebrates after winning a point in the men’s singles quarter final match during the 2022 U.S. Open. He went on to win the tournament and returns to this year’s Open as the men’s world No. 1 player to defend his title. Photo: Corbis via Getty Images
When Alcaraz walks into a room, he says hello and offers a handshake to everyone inside: the person he’s there to meet, the person he’s not there to meet, also the person who just happens to be there—congratulations, you’ve just shaken the racket hand of a two-time major champion. To most fans he is Carlos, though no one in his personal orbit calls him that. Carlos is his father’s name, his grandfather’s, too. To his friends, he is Carlitos, or Charlie. Call him what you want. It’s all good.
“This has been a dream for me since I was a little kid,” he explains. If, like me, you own jeans older than Carlos Alcaraz, this observation sounds funny, but for him, it’s been a longer road. “Obviously, it’s my job,” he says. “But I am enjoying this time.”
Today I’m following Alcaraz through the fine print of tennis stardom—a media day at the National Bank Open, where he will be put through the paces of interviews, photographs, TV spots, social media blips, a full press conference, a funny video stunt with player Casper Ruud for the ATP tennis tour and who knows what else. Everyone wants a piece of The Kid, who was an infant when Federer won his first Slam, grew up in Spain under Nadal’s stirring shadow, just shocked Djokovic in a five-set opera at Wimbledon and plays tennis like he’s from outer space.
Alcaraz kisses his trophy following his victory over Novak Djokovic at Wimbledon in July. The two players met again in August, an epic thriller in Cincinnati where this time Alcaraz was defeated in a deciding-set tiebreak. Djokovic remains awed by his young rival. “You never give up,” he said during the trophy ceremony. Photo: Getty Images
“The most complete player I’ve seen at that age,” says Paul Annacone, coach to Federer and others, now an analyst at the Tennis Channel. “He seems to have the perfect disposition to handle this: loves the game, loves to compete, yet knows you don’t always win…just a remarkable young talent.”
As the sport’s new prince, Alcaraz is beginning to receive its spoils. He is Nike’s fresh tennis comet, a new wrist for Rolex, behind the wheel of a BMW, in his skivvies for Calvin Klein. This summer he posed atop a steam trunk as he was announced as a brand ambassador for Louis Vuitton. When Alcaraz needed a last-minute tuxedo for the Wimbledon champions’ dinner (he hadn’t packed one for the trip), LV came through with the fit.
Stars from other arenas come to see him—an Alcaraz match is an experience everyone wants to have.
“Incredible to witness in person,” says the NBA star Jimmy Butler, an Alcaraz friend who has sat in his box at matches. He explains: “He never gives up on any ball, he’ll dive, he’ll do something miraculous just to try to get the ball over the net and win a point.”
Alcaraz courtside at Sobeys Stadium. His coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero, has cautiously managed his early professional career, shielding him from hype—until he was too good to ignore.
The attention is still a mind-bender for this child of El Palmar, a village in Murcia, Spain, about a half hour from the Mediterranean. Dad Carlos was a professional player, and young Alcaraz grew up on the local club courts, where he was recognized early as a prospect but carefully developed. Alcaraz’s success is a triumph of rationing: His coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero, cautiously managed his early professional appearances, shielding him from hype until he was too good to ignore.
“It’s crazy how fast he plays. If you hit one weak ball, you’re in massive trouble.” – Tommy Paul
Last year was the breakthrough. In a blistering three-month stretch, Alcaraz won the 2022 Rio Open, the Miami Open, the Barcelona Open, and then he beat Nadal and Djokovic in back-to-back matches on his way to capturing the Madrid Open. In the fall he brought New York City to its feet for his first major, becoming the youngest men’s No. 1 since the ATP began rankings in 1973.
“It was faster than I thought,” Alcaraz tells me. “I did not expect to win a Slam at age 20. I did not expect to win Wimbledon. Everything came so, so fast.”
Alcaraz taking a selfie with a young fan. Distressed Nike hoodie, USD 65, and Nike jacket, USD 120, similar styles at Nike.com.
WE HAVE to talk about his tennis.
On the court, Alcaraz is pure joy. He possesses sublime technique and flair, having mastered the fine details of the game but also adding the flourishes that make it his own. The first thing you notice is speed—Alcaraz’s ability to sprint everywhere, especially side to side, almost falling into the champagne-drinkers in the front row to return a ball a competitor would have abandoned three shots before.
“It’s crazy how fast he plays,” says Tommy Paul, a U.S. pro who’s had memorable battles with Alcaraz. “If you hit one weak ball, you’re in massive trouble.”
“I want to yell while I’m sitting in the stands,” says Jimmy Butler. “I understand you can’t, but I want to yell, ‘Don’t worry—we’re never out of this!’ He’s going to try to get to every ball.”
Then there is Alcaraz’s shot-making, which is comically precise. Young phenoms tend to lard on the power—they’ve yet to develop touch or the patience to toy with pace, so they brawl their way through matches. Alcaraz has ferocious power—he can beat you from the baseline with a howling forehand or backhand, and his serve might simmer at 120 mph. But he can also hit a delicate low volley, a vintage shot that hasn’t been in vogue since Pete Sampras roamed in baggy shorts. He can push a slice forehand for a winner—sort of a change-of-pace knuckleball that isn’t too fast or slow but freezes opponents in their track
Carlos Alcaraz making the rounds at Sobeys Stadium in Toronto; Alcaraz’s rackets and tennis gear; signing autographs for fans in Toronto.
Then there’s the drop shot. When Alcaraz is done, there will be canonical poetry dedicated to his drop shot. A dropper is a hazardous tool; players can fall in love with it, deploy it too much or dump it weakly into the net. Alcaraz was not immune—“When he was 16, 17, 18 years old, he did it too much,” says Antonio Martinez Cascales, a dean of Spanish tennis and Ferrero’s former coach, who is coaching Alcaraz in Toronto. Today Alcaraz’s drop shot is his signature weapon, cleverly disguised, set up by a torrent of forehands and backhands, right up until he turns his wrist and flicks a vicious, back-spinning eggshell over the net.
“Lethal,” says Tommy Paul.
Even with his ferocious tools, Alcaraz’s greatest skills might be mental—“his ability to strategize to the opponent,” says Brad Gilbert, the ESPN analyst currently coaching Coco Gauff. Tennis requires focus and real-time problem-solving, and many talented players fall apart upstairs. This was always a killer advantage for the Big Three—they’d been in big matches so many times, on the largest stages. Versus a less experienced opponent, they wielded a mental edge before the match began.
“[Carlos] is sui generis. We haven’t seen anything like it. He’s like a new strain, you know?”— Caitlin Thompson
Alcaraz does not rattle. He frolics in high-pressure situations. On his inner right arm is a tattoo with the letters CCC—a tribute to a blunt motto his grandfather Carlos instilled in him: Cabeza, Corazón, Cojones.
You could feel a tectonic shift in the fifth set at Wimbledon. Historically this is Novak Time, when the Serbian all-timer summons life and plunges the stake. But Alcaraz was unrattled. With King Felipe VI of Spain and Brad Pitt watching attentively, Alcaraz kept smiling, running, being patient, unlocking Djokovic’s tendencies—learning, as Andy Murray said recently. Suddenly it was Djokovic who was unsure, on the run. The lion who had won the last four Wimbledons was toppled at last.
“He’s seen the very best of the best, his whole life,” Billie Jean King says of Alcaraz’s coming of age during an era when Federer, Nadal and Djokovic dominated the sport. “He knows nothing else but those three.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com, Rolex watch, USD 32,100, similar styles at Rolex.com.
Alcaraz prepares for such scenarios, says Ferrero, a former world No. 1 who won the 2000 French Open and played against all of the Big Three himself.
“To stay mentally active during long matches is something every player should practice,” Ferrero tells me. Though Alcaraz is still adapting to the five-set grind, “We work to be ready for all kinds of situations during the matches.”
Tennis pioneer Billie Jean King thinks Alcaraz isn’t merely the successor to the Big Three—he’s their spiritual baby. “He’s seen the very best of the best, his whole life,” King explains. “He knows nothing else but those three.” Djokovic more or less said the same after Wimbledon, comparing Alcaraz’s on-court maturity to Federer’s, his competitiveness to Nadal’s, and his body-sliding defensive skills and backhand to his own. “He’s basically got the best of all three worlds,” Djokovic said.
How does a young player possibly respond to such praise? “Crazy,” Alcaraz says, when I ask him about Djokovic’s compliment. “He’s played with the best, with Rafa, with Roger. You don’t expect that.”
“To stay mentally active during long matches is something every player should practice,” says Alcaraz’s coach, Juan Carlos Ferrero. “We work to be ready for all kinds of situations during the matches.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and Nike sweatpants, USD 60, stylist’s own vintage Nike sweatshirt.
The subtext to all the buzz around Alcaraz is this: The Kid is not just a star. He may also have the potential to be one of the best ever. Whether you adored the Big Three, or got bored by their dominance, this is an astonishing prospect, a unicorn birth after a 20-year rainbow. And unlike other phenoms, who can get forced upon the public by the media or eager sponsors, Carlos and the mania he inspires are not the product of premature hype or an obnoxious commercial campaign.
We see what he’s doing with our own eyes.
“He is sui generis,” says Caitlin Thompson, the publisher and co-founder of the tennis media and lifestyle brand Racquet. “The fact that they didn’t manufacture him is so beautiful…we haven’t seen anything like it. He’s like a new strain, you know?”
“This has been a dream for me since I was a little kid,” Alcaraz says of his success on the tennis court. “Obviously, it’s my job, but I am enjoying it this time.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com.
Managing expectations will be essential. Tennis is a sport with a grim history of premature burnout and superstars who walk away. Björn Borg was done by 26. Women’s No. 1 Ash Barty recently left at 25. Talented children get shoved into competition while they’re in elementary school, collecting thousands of hours of training and grinding out travel with no guarantee of return. The machinery is merciless. A 17-year-old can look and sound 52. A 25-year-old might seem 90.
Alcaraz has had a few setbacks—a disastrous bout of cramping in the 2023 French Open semis versus Djokovic, which cost him the match—but he’s rallied after disappointments. His relentless playing style likely means a heightened risk of injury; he missed the Australian Open this January because of a bad hamstring. One suspects that as Alcaraz ages, he will dial down his cross-court scrambling, to preserve his energy and health.
Much of this will fall to Ferrero, who agrees that keeping Alcaraz on track will be a challenge. They intend to stay careful with his schedule and training, trying to keep his mind and body fresh. “This is the hardest thing to manage when winning a lot,” Ferrero says. “Keeping him motivated is important.”
Alcaraz’s athleticism is “incredible to witness in person,” says NBA player Jimmy Butler. “He never gives up on any ball, he’ll dive, he’ll do something miraculous just to try to get the ball over the net and win a point.” Distressed Nike T-shirt, USD 45, and sweatpants, USD 60, similar styles at Nike.com. Similar styles at Nike.com. Grooming, Samantha Pickles; production, Makers.
Alcaraz wants a long run. At one point, I ask him what his favorite song is to listen to before matches. “Eye of the Tiger,” he says, referring to Survivor’s Camaro-tastic Rocky anthem from 1982. The Balboa oeuvre is Alcaraz’s favorite movie series—he’s fond of Rocky IV and all the recent Creed films starring Michael B. Jordan as Apollo’s son. These are not the chosen films of an exhausted athlete contemplating an escape from sports.
It helps that he has the Big Three to model himself after. Alcaraz needs only to look up the road for three examples of players who played for a very long time, with consistent excellence and few valleys. He will locate his own generational rivals—his duel with the 22-year-old Italian star Jannik Sinner comes to mind—but there will always be an inspirational debt to the legends before him.
A couple weeks after our meeting, Alcaraz plays another epic thriller with Djokovic, this time in Cincinnati, where he loses in a deciding-set tiebreak. Afterwards, Alcaraz sits shrunken in a chair, in tears, a towel over his face, but he still manages a smile when the crowd cheers for him. It’s what makes Alcaraz so compelling—his total commitment, and irrepressible joy. Djokovic remains awed. “You never give up,” he says during the trophy ceremony.
The prospect of a Djokovic-Alcaraz tangle at the U.S. Open is a tantalizing possibility that already has the tournament in a flutter. Alcaraz would also love one more opportunity to play Nadal if he returns for a last hurrah. There will always be a part of him that’s sad he never got to play Federer, the eldest of the Big Three. But this is his sport now, and the timing is impeccable. Carlos Alcaraz has arrived. Tennis heaven remains.
Alcaraz waves back appreciatively. He is still in phase one of superstardom: the shiny, grateful, almost goofy-happy stage, when he can’t quite believe strangers notice him, shout his name or start wearing old-school tennis bucket hats because he started wearing old-school tennis bucket hats. “I love it,” he says of bucket-hat mania, which began at Wimbledon when he grabbed one from a Nike display. “It’s something new for me.”
A short while later, as he hurries down the stadium’s concrete steps to his next appointment, Alcaraz keeps apologizing to fans who have gathered for autographs. He looks at each fan directly, clasps his hands together and says, “Sorry,” over and over. At this point, I think I can tell the difference between a fake sorry and a real sorry. These are real. I think if they let Alcaraz wiggle out of his appointments, he would stand here and sign autographs for the next 14 years.
When Alcaraz walks into a room, he says hello and offers a handshake to everyone inside: the person he’s there to meet, the person he’s not there to meet, also the person who just happens to be there—congratulations, you’ve just shaken the racket hand of a two-time major champion. To most fans he is Carlos, though no one in his personal orbit calls him that. Carlos is his father’s name, his grandfather’s, too. To his friends, he is Carlitos, or Charlie. Call him what you want. It’s all good.
“This has been a dream for me since I was a little kid,” he explains. If, like me, you own jeans older than Carlos Alcaraz, this observation sounds funny, but for him, it’s been a longer road. “Obviously, it’s my job,” he says. “But I am enjoying this time.”
Today I’m following Alcaraz through the fine print of tennis stardom—a media day at the National Bank Open, where he will be put through the paces of interviews, photographs, TV spots, social media blips, a full press conference, a funny video stunt with player Casper Ruud for the ATP tennis tour and who knows what else. Everyone wants a piece of The Kid, who was an infant when Federer won his first Slam, grew up in Spain under Nadal’s stirring shadow, just shocked Djokovic in a five-set opera at Wimbledon and plays tennis like he’s from outer space.
Alcaraz kisses his trophy following his victory over Novak Djokovic at Wimbledon in July. The two players met again in August, an epic thriller in Cincinnati where this time Alcaraz was defeated in a deciding-set tiebreak. Djokovic remains awed by his young rival. “You never give up,” he said during the trophy ceremony. Photo: Getty Images
“The most complete player I’ve seen at that age,” says Paul Annacone, coach to Federer and others, now an analyst at the Tennis Channel. “He seems to have the perfect disposition to handle this: loves the game, loves to compete, yet knows you don’t always win…just a remarkable young talent.”
