“Nope bruh, we’re the new Gen X, we don’t crack under pressure like previous generations!” Nats, the soothsayer, confirmed
Illustration/Uday Mohite
At the best of times Natasha aka Nats my Gen X neighbour was undramatic, her uber aggression and ultra-vibrancy functioned at a subterranean level. As last Sunday evening settled in, Nats settled onto my couch with some gluten-less popcorn to watch the men’s Wimbledon finals. “Rahul bruh, today the baton changes hands or it doesn’t, today history will be made, a new prince could ceremoniously be crowned bringing to an end the reign of the big 3,” she said, dramatically, as Alcaraz won the toss, and elected to receive serve from Djokovic. “But either way, bruh, tonight will be historic… the young will push the aged, go Carlooooooos,” she screamed, popping more gluten-less popcorn into her mouth.
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“He has to crack at some point,” I felt confidently two hours later, as Alcaraz dropped the service game, that would have won him the final. I was convinced this was where the match would turn, such is Novak’s “survival instinct”.
“Nope bruh, we’re the new Gen X, we don’t crack under pressure like previous generations!” Nats, the soothsayer, confirmed.
“Ok so now you’re voyeuristically speaking for the whole generation…”
“No man dude, don’t take it literally, when you say, ‘he’s way ahead of his years, or ‘he has a wise head on his young shoulders’ or ‘he’s an older person in a younger body’, that’s old school thinking… Rahul bruh, excuse me, those are passe untruths!”
Nats know-it-all attitude masquerading as superior knowledge was maddening, but I decided to be the bigger person by letting out a mere, “Grrrrr!”
“Dude, don’t get testy, all I’m asking you to do is consider the possibility that you at 21 and me at 21 are two different things, I know, you Boomers believe that we are ‘immature over-opinionated children’ who should be seen and heard less, that we have egos with no basis, opinions with no fact. But here we are, Gen X with that X factor, we are wired differently... goooooo Carlosssss, Vamoooosssss!”
And as the Spaniard pummelled the Serb into submission, Nats said, “This is no mere defeat, dear bruh, this isn’t just Federer taking the baton from Sampras… this is the birth of the robot twins Carlos and Sinner … these are dudes who will win tennis trophies irrespective of the surface—grass, clay, hard court, red clay, won’t matter!”
And so, as night morphed into midnight, Nats werewolfed herself into a Spanish rowdy, “Ok Rahul uncle… wakey wakey… the Spaniards now take on the Brits… it’s a Spanish Armada night—tennis ball to football.”
If I had any hope of a quiet Euro Cup final, there was no chance as Nats was now on a Magna Carta treatise on the mechanics of the new X-men in sport, the scene shifted from a tennis court to a football stadium, as she went from merely vocal to vuvuzela vocal.
As the game kicked off, and the 16-year-old Yamal Lamine, passed the ball to a sprinting 22 year old Nico Williams to slot in Espana’s first goal, Nats foghorned…
“Goaaaaaal Yamaaaaal Vamossssss’… bruh, these aren’t prodigies, these are fully formed professionals , the mechanics are in-built. Luis de la Fuenta and Juan Carlos Ferrero, their tasks are different from coaches and managers of the past… they have to give space for their steeds to grow.”
“Nats, Carlos Alcaraz, at 21, Nico Williams at 22 and Yamal Lamine at 16, are all exceptions,” I argued.
“No bruh this bromance, LamiNico, Lamine and Williams in footbal… and Alcaraz in tennis, they’re the rule… they’re ruthless while they seem relaxed, they’re robots with braces… they’re not AI created, look at that finesse, dude, that pirouette from Yamal, that pick up from Carlos from his toes, while he’s still airborne, bruh this isn’t only brute power, its ballerina artistry, these are versatile virtuosos, these are icemen who wait for their opponent to crack. Alcaraz made Novak look old… Yamal made Mhappe seems like a relic… they can move seamlessly into any gear, there’s no emotion, there is a calm outside to control the churn inside, these guys will never burn out, because they will never overstay their welcome.”
And as Natasha aka Nats finished her gluten popcorn, and Spain beat England 2-1, she said, “Dude, Carlos Alcaraz is the new Gen X-X factor.”
“And Novak?’
“He’s Gen Ex.”
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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