I’m not big on conspiracy theories, but count me among those who suspect that things may not be what they appear in the formerly happy kingdom of the much-acclaimed King of Clay, Rafael Nadal. Like all palaces, this one seems to generate a fair amount of intrigue, even if nobody is about to leap out from behind a velvet curtain to plunge a dagger into the heart of Toni Nadal or Albert Costa.
The story, as we’ve been told, is that a stomach virus has knocked Rafa out through at least the Australian Open, the first Grand Slam tournament of the year, which begins in mid-January. Nadal was to have launched his preparations for the Aussie about 10 days ago in Abu Dhabi, but the bug laid him low. Apparently, very, very, very low, even though Nadal’s own minions initially said that his doctors advised him only to take “a week-long period of rest.”
That week was to have begun last Friday, and in a few days Nadal is supposed undergo further examination and an X-ray. “Starting next week,” said the head of his medical team, Dr. Angel Ruiz-Cotorro, “He won’t be in sufficient physical conditions to continue with his rehabilitation process.”
That was code, it turned out, for, “Australia? Forget about it.” Never has a stomach bug eaten up so much hope.
Tennis fans are keenly disappointed, and not for the first time in this increasingly baffling saga. Month after month, it seems, Nadal has sent out mixed signals about the date of his return. And his comments about his left knee have raised as many questions as they’ve answered. About 10 days ago, Nadal told the <em>London Times</em> that the knee is “still not perfect” and that, while the (MRI) images are encouraging, he still feels that “something” is not quite right, adding that he needs to be focused on how “the knee is getting better or worse every day.”
You can understand why Nadal and his crew are obsessive about the state of that damaged tendon and taking the most conservative, non-surgical approach to rehab. But the idea of a knee getting “better or worse every day” makes me think it’s not a very stable or trustworthy knee. Perhaps something was lost in translation.
I don’t believe Nadal has raised and dashed hopes just for the sheer fun of watching his fans suffer through it all with him, or that he would willfully deceive. But I don’t think we’re getting either a full story or a particularly straight one—and haven’t been since Nadal withdrew from the game after he was upset by Lukas Rosol in the second round of Wimbledon.
(By the way, I’m not sure there’s anything wrong with being secretive, if that applies here. I know of no ATP rule and certainly no law that obliges a tennis player and his team to be utterly frank and forthcoming about a player’s physical state or long-term intentions. But the story of Rafa and his left knee has come to incorporate more plot twists than a Robert Ludlum novel, and it’s becoming just about as credible.)
Most people accepted Rafa’s logic of pulling the plug on the year when it became clear that there was no way he could return to the fray in time for the U.S. Open, even if they held out hope that he might return in time for the ATP World Tour Finals. Nadal, like most champs, believes it’s all about the Grand Slam events, and the most important thing about the year-end championships for Nadal is the resume-damaging fact that he has yet to win one. This certainly was not the right year to set that as a goal.
For that same reason, the decision to skip Abu Dhabi, a remunerative exhibition tournament, also didn’t seem like such a big deal—at least not until it was followed almost immediately by the announcement that Nadal also pulled out of Doha and the Australian Open. And here you thought Montezuma’s Revenge was tough to handle!
Now, everyone is reeling—again.