“He (Carlos) has great friends, and I do too,” Sinner said, conceding that his relationship with Alcaraz is “a bit different” because of the boundaries imposed by their professional rivalry. Nonetheless, he said, “We do respect each other in a very healthy way. . .It’s a good harmony.”
Cliff Drysdale, recently retired as an ESPN analyst, was part of that pioneering generation of great sportsmen. He doesn’t believe that the fraternal nature of the tour in the 1950s and 60s can—or should be—revived. But Drysdale does see something a little different about Sinner that makes him stand out among his peers, something he calls a “thoughtfulness quotient.”
For Cahill, that thoughtfulness is expressed as “self-awareness” as well as by one of his foundational virtues, the “respect” he shows for others. It is the default setting for how he sees people, although it is often disabled in others by fame and fortune. Having been weaned on Nadal’s humility and respect for others, Alcaraz also knows the value of respect.
“Everyone is trying to accomplish the same things in tennis,” Cahill said. “Respecting the person on the other side of the court, those in the locker-room, and everyone that works in tennis only makes the journey that much easier, and more enjoyable.”
All this may lead you to wonder if the secret sauce in the out-and-out dominance of the field by Sinner and Alcaraz is this in-common ability to keep the sport, and their role in it, in perspective. The cliche reminds us, “It’s lonely at the top.” The relationship between Sinner and Alcaraz suggests that maybe it’s a little less lonely when you’ve got a friend up there with you.
