Mutua Madrid Open – Day 2
A whole day of 3rd round matches was ahead of me, so of course I took it easy getting there. The first match was between a couple of guys I have zero feelings about (Karatsev and Bublik) which started at 11am but I didn’t get there until maybe 40 minutes later, or early in the second set. Bublik was already leading so I had plenty of time to get familiar with my new home for the day. The Arantxa Sanchez Stadium is the one next door to the Manolo Santana one and about a quarter its size. It felt much more intimate and, of course, my seat was way closer to the action. Similar to yesterday, I got a seat in the corner of the court, which is a much better location from which to view a tennis match than I thought, even at the great height of the Caja Magica. In this stadium, the location was just perfect. So perfect, as a matter of fact, that I got to catch a ball that bounced up to me, one, unfortunately, I was obliged to return. It was also a spot where I could be seen on the TV feed, and yes, I have gone back and rewatched all the matches to see if and when I was visible and I grabbed screenshots. You’re welcome ☺️; how else could I have proof of my presence, after all.
The first match was over in no time at all, Bublik coming out of top, but since I had arrived late I didn’t bother leaving the stadium. I had to get ready for the next match: the latest Chilean star, Christian Garín was taking on one of my least-favourite players, Andrei Medvedev, seeded N°2. I was sure this was going to be the best place in the city to spot some Chileans, as well. The first set went great, Garín breaking the Russian early on and holding steady. His serve was definitely working well. The second set was much closer, Medvedev edging out Christian in the tie break. I was beginning to get a little nervous at the start of the third but shouldn’t have bothered: Garín destroyed Medvedev 6-1. The Chileans in the audience and I were ecstatic and we made a lot of noise. The best part of the match, however, came at the end when I spotted my favourite referee from Switzerland, Mohamed Lahyani, who was sitting in the VIP area, presumably taking a break between the matches he was working that day. To say I have a huge crush on this guy is an understatement … but then again, it is a little weird being a fangirl of a tennis official, is it not? Though, to be fair, I used to love watching football matches when Howard Webb was the referee too, so maybe this is normal for me. (I was very sad when Howard retired a few years ago.)
Giddy as a schoolgirl, I decided I needed to take a quick break and grab something to eat. I didn’t have a lot of time but it was enough to try one of the food places on the main concourse, though the lines were starting to get a bit long by then. They did have a pretty good system for directing people to tables and all that, so I was in and out of there pretty quickly. The meal, however, was very forgettable; all I remember is that there were dry French fries included. I really must figure out how to get the VIP seats one of these days; I’m certain their food is way better.
The third match was between a couple of guys I don’t really like that much, the American John Isner and another Russian, Andrey Rublev. I don’t know if it was the aftermath of my lunch or the fact that I really couldn’t care less which one of them won, though that scale was ever so slightly tipped in Isner’s direction, but I swear there are bits of the match that are a little hazy. It’s almost as if I had slept through some of it; I’m pretty sure my eyes glazed over more than once and I had to do everything in my power to keep them open. I was on screen, after all, and it would have been very embarrassing to be caught napping. The other reason I was so sleepy was probably the fact that the match was extremely boring. I do not like Rublev much because he’s Russian (a rather irrational dislike, I admit, but it is universally applied to all players from Russia, albeit not equally in intensity), but the reason I do not like Isner is that his game is so … damn … boring … His one and pretty much only weapon is the serve and when he wins, it is usually because his opponents beat themselves, as Rublev did on this occasion. The only good thing about this match was that it was relatively short.
The fourth match promised to be way more exciting: I got to see Stefano Tsitsipas again, this time taking on another one of the young new stars, the Norwegian Casper Ruud. I was expecting a tight contest but, surprisingly, it was the younger man who prevailed, coming out on top in two sets. I was saddened by that, mainly because I wouldn’t get a chance to see Tsitsipas Sr. again the next day but such is life. And this is tennis: sometimes your faves have good days and sometimes they don’t and you just have to hope they have more ot the good ones. Roberto Bautista Agut had gone down to John Isner the day before so I was robbed of a chance to see him as well (and here we have another reason to dislike the American).
The last match was between one of the stars that have come out of Italy recently, Matteo Barrattini, and Federico Delbonis of Argentina, but I never got to see it. I just couldn’t. The match wasn’t going to start until quite late and the idea of spending a couple more hours seated and watching a couple of guys I really didn’t know much about, was just too much, especially since the curfew was looming and I had seen enough tennis for one day. I headed out quite satisfied to have spent many hours watching my favourite sport without any guilt (as I sometimes feel when watching this much at home).
I finished off my day by meeting one of the young Chilean fans I had spotted earlier in the stadium. I was walking behind him and noticed his red, white, and blue flag, so of course I had to say something. We ended up chatting the whole way to the metro and during the ride to Sol. His name was Tomas, he’s from Santiago, and living in Madrid with his French girlfriend. It was so nice comparing notes from the Garín match as well as reminiscing a little about Chile. He gave me some suggestions for finding a good Chilean restaurant but, unfortunately, my memory is crap if I don’t write things down immediately so I never did find the one he said had great empanadas. Oh well, maybe next time.
This is him, on the left:
