I’m Completely Dehydrated From Crying — But It’s Not Just Any Cry. It’s The Kind That Comes From

I’m completely dehydrated from crying — but it’s not just any cry. It’s the kind that comes from deep within, when your heart overflows with gratitude, pride, and a love that asks for nothing in return.

Because Rafael Nadal… he’s not just a champion. He’s raw emotion, unshowy courage, soul in its purest form. It was never just about the numbers — it was about everything he made us feel.

He walked onto that court with his heart in his racquet and fire in his soul. He fought for every point like the world depended on it. And sometimes, it did. At least mine did. Because he taught us that winning isn’t just about lifting trophies — it’s about lifting yourself, even when your body’s screaming and your mind is hanging by a thread.

Every “¡Vamos!” was a battle cry that pierced the screen and hit me right in the chest. Every scraped knee he pushed through, every fierce look in the middle of chaos, every silent tear he swallowed just to keep fighting — that was passion. Raw, real, undiluted. Nothing performative. Everything him.

And the most beautiful part? He never needed to scream he was the best. He just was. And the story he wrote — with grit, pain, joy, and honor — screams it for anyone willing to hear. Or feel.

Today, tennis cries. Because it loses one of its greatest gladiators. But it also celebrates. Because Rafa’s legacy doesn’t retire. It lives. In every young player who steps on court with fire, in every fan who learned to dream because of him. In me. In everyone who was touched by his story.

He gave us the world — and all we can do now is applaud with our hearts in our hands.

Rafael Nadal. Por siempre en nuestros corazones. Forever my inspiration. And what a privilege it was to live through all of it with him.