A Snapshot of Paris 2025: The Unforgettable Final

There are matches, like the final of the 2025 Roland Garros, that, after the euphoria of what you’ve witnessed, leave a small feeling of sadness. Will we see anything like this again? Is it possible to go even further? Can tennis be played better? The answer is yes, but when and how much more? What margin does this final leave for another to be considered better?

Just as humans can run 100 meters in 9.58 (Usain Bolt, 2009), we are as certain that someday this record may be broken as we are that, no matter how hard we try, humans won’t break nine seconds for many decades, or eight for centuries, and even that would require an evolution of our species.

In other words, there are limits, even in tennis. Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner, at various moments in this Sunday’s match, explored those boundaries, stepped on them, and threatened to cross them at times. There were points where it simply couldn’t be played better: you couldn’t hit the ball harder, you couldn’t place it closer to the line, you couldn’t go faster on clay, you couldn’t be more focused. All this took place in the center court of Roland Garros, during a five-set Grand Slam final, displaying every possible emotion over five and a half hours for the fans of both players, with twists even in the last set, when Sinner seemed to buckle and suddenly surged ahead, seemingly reclaiming the match.

The final had everything, including the mythological comeback of a hero when, in the third set, Sinner had three match points (0-40) with two sets already up. In other words, a potential victory for someone who hadn’t lost a set in Paris this year. Better than Wimbledon 2008, Nadal-Federer? Better than Wimbledon 1980, Borg-McEnroe? It’s a matter of taste. But yes: this rhythm isn’t the same as before, nor is this strength, nor this speed. It’s pure evolution. Tennis entered a new dimension this Sunday, hand in hand with its two best ambassadors, two boys aged 22 and 23 who offered a sublime show.

One more thing: the fear Sinner instilled at various points in the match and why, for the good of the species, Alcaraz was the preferable winner. The Italian was not just almost perfect, but perfect in many games. He reached everything, hit everything, and adjusted everything. There was something like evolving artificial intelligence there. And when one player never misses and another occasionally does, the preference should always be for the one who falters. Mistakes (or rather trial and error) make us unique. Alcaraz began to vary: short balls to draw him to the net, deep balls to set up a drop shot, angles to tire out his legs. When one has such a variety of resources and plays with such thought, they expose themselves and make more mistakes. Sinner, unflappable, was cannonading and running across the court like a machine from the future here to sniff everything out and bulldoze through it. Alcaraz represented, in a way, humanity’s resistance against perfection, the human need to advance by exploring, experimenting, and having fun: playing tennis as one plays in life, occasionally crashing, jumping in puddles, enjoying oneself, and making others enjoy.

This is not meant to diminish Sinner. He is a spectacular player, by the way. He corrected the chair umpire on a bad call against Alcaraz, and he was “robbed” of a bad serve that neither the umpire nor the linesman saw, despite it being a crucial point that he lost. His tennis, otherwise, is so perfect that it’s intimidating. But it’s more one-dimensional than Alcaraz’s; it’s safer, with fewer colors on the palette. Carlos Alcaraz’s victory this Sunday, one of the most significant wins in the history of Spanish sports (and the bar is certainly high in tennis, Rafa), is also a victory of adventure, of the unexpected, of surprise. Of tennis that is fun and exposed, more vulnerable, but also, when hitting cruising speed, a winning tennis that makes people tremble with pure happiness.