Vamos, @RafaelNadal!
As you get ready to graduate from tennis, I’ve got a few things to share before I maybe get emotional.
Let’s start with the obvious: you beat me—a lot. More than I managed to beat you. You challenged me in ways no one else could. On clay, it felt like I was stepping into your backyard, and you made me work harder than I ever thought I could just to hold my ground. You made me reimagine my game—even going so far as to change the size of my racquet head, hoping for any edge.
I’m not a very superstitious person, but you took it to the next level. Your whole process. All those rituals. Assembling your water bottles like toy soldiers in formation, fixing your hair, adjusting your underwear... All of it with the highest intensity. Secretly, I kind of loved the whole thing. Because it was so unique—it was so you.
And you know what, Rafa, you made me enjoy the game even more.
OK, maybe not at first. After the 2004 Australian Open, I achieved the #1 ranking for the first time. I thought I was on top of the world. And I was—until two months later, when you walked on the court in Miami in your red sleeveless shirt, showing off those biceps, and you beat me convincingly. All that buzz I’d been hearing about you—about this amazing young player from Mallorca, a generational talent, probably going to win a major someday—it wasn’t just hype.
We were both at the start of our journey and it’s one we ended up taking together. Twenty years later, Rafa, I have to say: What an incredible run you’ve had. Including 14 French Opens—historic! You made Spain proud... you made the whole tennis world proud.
I keep thinking about the memories we’ve shared. Promoting the sport together. Playing that match on half-grass, half-clay. Breaking the all-time attendance record by playing in front of more than 50,000 fans in Cape Town, South Africa. Always cracking each other up. Wearing each other out on the court and then, sometimes, almost literally having to hold each other up during trophy ceremonies.
I’m still grateful you invited me to Mallorca to help launch the Rafa Nadal Academy in 2016. Actually, I kind of invited myself. I knew you were too polite to insist on me being there, but I didn’t want to miss it. You have always been a role model for kids around the world, and Mirka and I are so glad that our children have all trained at your academies. They had a blast and learned so much—like thousands of other young players. Although I always worried my kids would come home playing tennis as lefties.
And then there was London—the Laver Cup in 2022. My final match. It meant everything to me that you were there by my side—not as my rival but as my doubles partner. Sharing the court with you that night, and sharing those tears, will forever be one of the most special moments of my career.
Rafa, I know you’re focused on the last stretch of your epic career. We will talk when it’s done. For now, I just want to congratulate your family and team, who all played a massive role in your success. And I want you to know that your old friend is always cheering for you, and will be cheering just as loud for everything you do next.
Rafa that!
Best always, your fan,
Roger
#Brustkrebs frühzeitig selber erkennen und Heilungschancen drastisch verbessern. Letzte Woche habe ich auf der #exoworldnow eine virtuelle Session mit @alexjness von Welwaze Medical, Inc. moderiert. Er hat mit seinem Team Celbrea, das erste vollständig in…https://t.co/XsYGxPlOQp
9 years ago, Tony gave me the morning routine of champions.
Once I religiously followed his routine, my whole life changed.
Stop using your phone and try this morning routine Tony Robbins taught to President Clinton, Serena Williams, Marc Benioff, Conor McGregor, and me 👇
My favorite Charlie Munger story:
In 1953, Munger was 29 years old.
Recently divorced. Lost the house. Huge social stigma of divorce back then.
His 8-year-old son, Teddy, was diagnosed with cancer.
The leukemia was incurable.
No medical insurance - Munger paid for all his medical care.
Charlie would visit Teddy in the hospital every day -- and then walk the streets crying.
Teddy died at the age of 9.
Charlie was broke, divorced and just lost his child.
99.9% of people would've turned to alcohol, drugs, or suicide. (And you'd understand why)
Munger never did.
Fast forward to 52 years old, a failed surgery left him blind in one eye with the potential of going fully blind one day.
Charlie was an obsessive learner who read every book he could get his hands on.
When confronted with the possibility of going blind and no longer being able to read he said:
"It's time for me to learn braille!"
The only thing that might be more impressive than his intellect was his actions.
RIP.
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Munger on Self-Pity:
"Generally speaking, envy, resentment, revenge, and self-pity are disastrous modes of thought.
Self-pity gets pretty close to paranoia…
Every time you find your drifting into self-pity, I don’t care what the cause, your child could be dying from cancer, self-pity is not going to improve the situation. It’s a ridiculous way to behave.
Life will have terrible blows, horrible blows, unfair blows, it doesn’t matter. Some people recover and others don’t.
There I think the attitude of Epictetus is the best. He thought that every mischance in life was an opportunity to behave well. Every mischance in life was an opportunity to learn something and that your duty was not to be immersed in self-pity, but to utilize the terrible blow in a constructive fashion. That is a very good idea."