Watching a movie a couple of weeks ago. An American movie. I can’t remember the name, but it wasn’t even a sad movie. It caught me off guard. I was on an airplane.
I had a nice dinner. I let the evening unfold, flow. I like to sit in a chair with a wine glass. When I woke up, I thought, ‘Why didn’t I go to bed at 11?’ I came back at 3 and went to bed at 5.
The nicer the point, the more — the better I feel, the more excited I get. But I never play that my opponent looks stupid. I think that is wrong. I have too much respect for every opponent I play.
I was aware of how incredible the match was. Unfortunately there had to be a winner. From my point of view many left feeling sorry for me instead of being happy for Rafa. Which hurts.
My dad said if you become a tennis professional just make sure you get into the top hundred, because you have to make a little bit of money. You make a living so you can pay your coaching and, you know, your travels.
