The Wimbledon men’s singles final over the weekend didn’t crown a new champion so much as it clarified a rivalry. Twelve months removed from a semifinal loss that felt like a coming-of-age moment for Carlos Alcaraz, Jannik Sinner returned to Centre Court and left no room for doubt. With measured precision and emotional restraint, he claimed his first title in the sport’s premier event and, in so doing, flipped a narrative that had favored his opponent since their breakthrough years began to intertwine. In this sense, it was more about correction and less about revenge.
Certainly, Sinner’s victory was forged not in flash but in focus. He dictated the pace from the baseline, minimized errors, and rarely gave Alcaraz chances to seize momentum. When faced with flair and improvisation, he countered with structure and timing. In first withstanding — and then controlling — rallies, he banked on groundstrokes deployed with surgical precision. And, most tellingly, his demeanor never wavered. Gone was the version of himself who blinked at the moment. In its place was one who executed under pressure. The final may have delivered on the drama it was expected to produce, but he made sure it unfolded on his terms.
To be sure, Alcaraz deserved his flowers as well. His run through the fortnight included a composed dismantling of Daniil Medvedev in the semis — a performance that suggested he was poised to keep the trophy in his mantel for the third straight year. Against Sinner, however, the margins evaporated. His shotmaking, invariably his lifeline, felt rushed. His footwork, always electric, seemed half a beat behind. That said, his post-mortem reflected optimism and an acknowledgment of the strides he made despite falling short of his ultimate objective. If nothing else, it shows that, even at 22, he already deems success as a journey and not a destination.
For longtime tennis fans, the contrast between Alcaraz and Sinner in terms of approach is stark — creativity versus clarity, instinct versus intention. Which, for all intents, makes for edge-of-seat fare, and why the outcome of any given encounter is more significant: it’s one won against the other, and at a certain stage in their shared development. That kind of statement win leaves a mark, not just on the scorecard, but on the psychology of future meetings. And, make no mistake, there will be more to come.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994. He is a consultant on strategic planning, operations and human resources management, corporate communications, and business development.