In this episode, we sit down with Nil Giraldéz, a player whose college tennis path took him through UC Davis, the University of San Francisco, and Notre Dame.
Nil opens up about everything from finding courage in golden points at college matches, the self-doubt that creeps in after two years off, coming back to compete with top-tier players, and learning that belief can flip the outcome of any match. More than anything, he shows us what it means to lose, adapt, and grow—on and off the court.
“Tennis is a sport for losers, honestly,” he says. “Only one person wins each week.” But through the brutal reality of competition, Nil found something bigger: resilience, confidence, and a work ethic that now drives him in life beyond tennis.
This one’s about the grind, the doubt, and the fire that comes when you decide to keep showing up.Totally. Actually, the first thing I wanted to ask you is that I saw you’ve been to three different universities: UC Davis, then, San Francisco and finally Notre Dame?
Exactly, I went to the University of San Francisco, and then ended up at Notre Dame.
Right. So why all those moves?
Man, it’s a long story. When I was 18, I was in the process of going to the U.S. for college. I was checking out universities, but as you know, especially in Spain, it's tough to balance tennis with academics. When I was 16, I was playing really well—I had won an Nikes, was top 5 in Spain, top 16 in Europe—but I had to make a decision: either go full-on tennis with online school or stick with my demanding private school and focus on academics. My family leaned toward academics, so I had to prioritize school.
Because of that, I dropped in the rankings a lot. So by the time I was 18 and ready to go to college, it was tough. Coaches look at UTRs, rankings, recent results—and I hadn’t played much the last couple of years. The offers I had at 16 were way better than what I had at 18.
UC Davis isn’t a bad school at all—academically it’s solid—but tennis-wise, I think I could’ve done better. I worked with an agent, got a couple of offers, and ended up choosing UC Davis. But when I got there... I didn’t love it. That’s one of the hard things about being in Spain—you don’t get to visit campuses or get a feel for the culture beforehand, so the fit might not be great. UC Davis is in California, which sounds like the dream—surf, sunshine—but it’s not San Francisco, Santa Barbara, or San Diego.
I stayed there for six months. Tennis-wise, I enjoyed it, the people were great, but I couldn’t see myself there for four years. So I came back to Spain. I wasn’t really happy, and honestly, I was a bit immature at 18. I spent two years back home studying at ESADE, a private business school. Super academic. Zero tennis.
When I say zero, I mean I didn’t touch a racquet for two years. It was intense. And even though I was doing really well—great grades, top of the class—I felt this huge hole. I missed tennis like crazy. I couldn’t do another two years like that—seeing the same people, partying at the same places, not playing. I realized how much I was missing by not being in the U.S.
So I picked up my racquet again, played three tournaments—somehow got through them—and entered the transfer portal. That’s when I got into the University of San Francisco. Tennis and academics were both solid, though not elite like Notre Dame or Berkeley. Still, I loved San Francisco, the college experience was great, I was playing No. 1, beating ranked guys, and really enjoying it. I stayed an extra year because of COVID.
Then I decided to try for something new. I entered the portal again and landed a master’s program at Notre Dame, where I played one more year. And that experience was on a whole different level.
At Notre Dame, you're treated like a pro athlete—like a race car. Unlimited resources, money, travel. It was unreal. That last year felt like a dream. But yeah, I’ve lived three completely different lives at three very different schools. Almost four, if you count ESADE.
That’s wild. Two years without touching a racquet? That’s insane.
Yeah. Totally stopped playing. It was intense.
Same here, actually. I didn’t play at all during college—four years without picking up a racquet.
But dude, Notre Dame? That’s huge. Such a big-name university.
Yeah, South Bend is a bit in the middle of nowhere, but the university itself is incredible. Sports are everything there—football, basketball, even tennis. There’s tons of money in the program. Daily massages, full support—you feel like a semi-pro. But it's kind of a fake reality. When you go play on the pro circuit, doing Futures, it’s a war zone. Still, that one year was a dream.
Yeah, their football team is one of the best. And their tennis team is legit too—I know they have a really strong squad.
For sure. I think a Spanish guy just joined this year—Luis Llorenz.
Yeah, that’s right!
I don’t know him personally, but I heard he’s there. I was actually the first Spanish player ever at Notre Dame. I think he’s the second.
No way, that’s wild. I remember hitting with Luis once when he was 13, just a couple of sessions in the summer. Had no idea he’d turn out that good. Unreal.
He’s from Madrid, right?
Yeah, Madrid. So, the next thing I wanted to ask you was about the actual experience of playing college tennis. Everyone I’ve talked to says it’s totally different from playing ITFs or junior tournaments—completely different vibe playing on a team. How different was that experience for you?
It’s a totally different experience. When you play juniors or ITFs, you're just in a draw, and all you see is your name—you focus solely on your own path. You watch how your name moves forward, and you build those scenarios in your head.
But in college tennis, the only thing that matters is the team winning. It’s intense. At first, you don’t realize it. I remember when I was at USF, I’d be like, “Okay, I won, but the team lost—at least I won.” But eventually, you understand that doesn’t matter. There’s a conference, there are nationals, and you can lose every match while your team wins—and that’s what counts.
And honestly, that’s beautiful. Some of my happiest days came at Notre Dame, even when I lost. I played 1 and 2 there, and I lost a lot. But if the team won, I was happy. That’s what it’s all about.
You have doubles first, then singles, and it’s all packed into one day. It’s not like traveling to France for a tournament, losing, then hopping on a flight home. In college, you might play up to three matches in a weekend. You get tons of chances to reset, it’s all about teamwork. Completely different vibe.
The team becomes your family. That’s why I believe anyone unsure about turning pro should definitely experience college tennis. It teaches you how to work within a team.
Yeah, everyone I’ve spoken to says the same—it becomes such a team sport.
Absolutely. And for some people, it’s a huge motivator. For others, it adds pressure—knowing they need to deliver for the team.
What about you—how did you handle that?
I already put a lot of pressure on myself, so whether I was playing for me or for the team, it was always there. But yeah, there’s definitely more pressure when the team’s counting on you to clinch the match.
It’s one thing if your team is up and cruising. But when it’s 3-3 and your match is the decider... it’s a different beast. That’s why I think college tennis builds so much mental toughness, and it’s also why so many college players do well on the pro tour.
Golden points? Man, they’re brutal. I don’t think I’ve ever been as nervous in my life as during those. But eventually, something clicks.
At the beginning, I’d choke in a lot of key moments—set points, break points. But eventually you hit that one golden point that you play like a beast. You realize, “Damn, I need to play brave.” And from that moment, you start forming a habit—playing bolder, more confidently, more relaxed. Long-term, it works. But yeah, early on, it’s tough. You’ve gotta adapt.
A lot of players have told me the same—that those golden points really push you to be gutsy and build confidence. Did you always try to play them that way?
Imagine being at deuce on your serve, knowing it’s a break point. You might think, “I’ll just play it safe, don’t risk it.” But that’s where experience and maturity come in. You’ve got to know how to play that point.
It depends on your playing style too. If you’re a big hitter, you might go for bombs. But I’m more of a Spanish-style grinder—I don’t have huge weapons. But here’s the thing: if you get 10 golden points in a match and you play them all brave—but with control—you’ll win more than you lose.
You can’t go crazy, but you also can’t be passive. You need to find that 80% effort where you’re hitting heavy but within your margin. That’s what works.
Eventually, I learned to approach golden points with my strengths in mind. For example, if I was serving from the deuce side, I knew my go-to play—serve wide, hit a backhand crosscourt. If I play that pattern 10 times, I’ll win 6. That’s enough. 60% win rate? I’ll take it.
So yeah, play to your strengths, play brave—and over time, you come out ahead. It feels counterintuitive, but players who get too tight usually lose those points.
Exactly what I’ve been hearing, man.
Another thing: college matches get wild compared to juniors or even the pros. You’ve got opposing fans yelling, teams heckling, people trying to rattle you. I’ve heard stories about biased umpires too.
Have you ever dealt with that kind of situation? How did you handle it?
Man, yeah. You need guts and confidence to deal with that.
Think about it—when we were playing nikes as kids, who did we have? Your dad, your coach, maybe four friends tops.
In college? If you’re playing away, there’s a whole crowd cheering against you. People shouting stuff, sometimes even insulting you. And a lot of the umpires are older and can’t see the ball properly.
When it comes to line calls, if you call a ball out, 90% of the time the umpire will back you. But if the crowd goes nuts, the call might go against you. You’ve gotta be super patient and mentally tough.
I used to be that kid—always causing a scene on court. People knew me for that. I’d fight hard, but I’d also lose it a lot.
But in college? You can’t afford that. You’ve gotta fight for every point and stay composed—because the match can fly by.
You lose 10 points in a row, drop a set 6-2, and suddenly your whole team’s watching the No.1 guy getting smoked. It throws off the whole vibe.
So yeah, you need to be mentally solid and patient—because matches can flip fast. I lost count of how many times I was down 4-1 in a set, or lost the first 6-2, and then came back in the third.
College matches are full of ups and downs. You’ve got to ride them out and just understand—that’s tennis. That’s what pro-level competition looks like.
Alright dude, I’m going to take you back a little and ask about the ITFs. I saw you didn’t play many. And you told me earlier that it was because those last two years you focused more on the academic side, right?
Yeah, that’s right. On the academic side.
How was it for you to face that moment where you said... I mean, man, nationally people knew you, and you were a tough player. How was it knowing that for two years you weren’t going to compete much, despite the level you had?
It’s tough, man. After playing this sport for so many years, the love for tennis is huge. But it’s indirect.
When you’re 16, I used to look at the people I competed with and saw a clear divide: the ones who did online school or went to Equelite or Sánchez-Casal Academy, and then the ones who stayed in regular schools that weren’t made for athletes.
My school didn’t give much flexibility. And in my head, my family always told me—and I kind of internalized it—being a pro tennis player is extremely hard. Only people like Alcaraz, like Sinner, make it. That’s 0.001% of tennis players.
So I kind of accepted it and didn’t overthink it too much, but yeah, it was sad.
That’s why when I came back at that age, I thought, “Okay, maybe not pro, but maybe college tennis, traveling the world and playing at a high level—yeah.”
And I think it was a great idea.
At the end of the day, okay, I didn’t play much during those two years, didn’t play ITFs. But when I was 18 and went to UC Davis, I was playing at number 2 and doing really well.
I could’ve transferred to a better school. I didn’t make the best decision there.
But I think there’s a path for everyone.
Sure, I won’t be #1 in the world like Alcaraz, but I’ve played at a high level and competed with guys you now see on TV. So yeah, there’s a way for everyone.
Totally, man. Since I was little, I was always told that the most important thing is to feel competitive.
That’s what matters. As long as you feel competitive, you can be satisfied.
Now, about your time at ESADE—you said you didn’t even touch a racket?
Didn’t touch it at all, yeah.
Was there a specific reason? Like, was there something that made you say, “I’m done with tennis”? What happened?
The turning point, I think, was going from UC Davis to ESADE and realizing my schedule was 8am to 4:30 or 5pm, then home, three hours of studying…
And I’m super competitive with everything I do.
So in class, I wanted the best grades, wanted to be top of the class, wanted to do a transfer from ESADE to one of the best universities in the world, I wanted to get into Wharton. I always aimed for the top.
So I couldn’t keep playing tennis just for fun. When you’re at ESADE, you don’t just “play for fun,” you have to really go in.
I couldn’t do that and also be the best academically. So I chose academics. It’s tough, but now I realize sport is really important too. I got great grades, but what did that do for me now?
Now that I’m in the U.S. and did the transfer—not much. So it puts into perspective how important sport really is. In the long run, having balance between sport and academics is more important than going all in on studies.
That’s the truth.
Yeah, I totally agree with you, man.
Same thing happened to me. I basically stopped playing when I moved to Panama. Around 15–16 years old. When I came back to Spain, damn, people were already passing me by.
When I was younger—under-10, under-12—I was doing really well.
I was number one in Madrid as an under-10, number one as an under-12. As an under-14, it started to get a bit harder because guys like Alejandro Moro were coming up. And then he started overtaking all of us.
But I could still compete at the national level. But once I got to under-16 and Junior, others started passing me.
I lost a lot of competitive edge in Panama. And by 18 I was like, “I don’t really see a future with this.” So I went through the same thing as you, man.
I’m super competitive in everything—even school. I may not be the smartest, but I’ll work twice as hard as the next guy if I have to. And I got into a good American university.
Which one did you go to?
Georgetown.
Whoa—not just good. That’s an amazing one.
Yeah man, when I got in, I was like, “Holy crap.”
I was lucky and went all in on it. And yeah, during those four years I barely touched a racket. When the pandemic hit, I played a little because I felt the itch, but that’s about it.
That was kind of a turning point too.
The pandemic hit while I was at ESADE, and I was overthinking everything. I was like, “Man, I’m just stuck here, in class, everyone the same.” So I told myself, “I gotta get back into tennis.” I remember being at home during lockdown, getting in shape. And I said, “As soon as this pandemic ends and we can go out again, I’m getting back into tennis and going to the U.S.” And I did it.
But dude, your story sounds just like mine. One of the top in Catalonia as an under-12, then under-14 number two, then under-16 dropped off… Tennis is super tough to get into the top 100 or 200, but if you put in the hours, it’s rewarding.
And how many people we’ve played with are ranked 200, 300, 400 in the world? They’re not living the perfect life, they still need that jump into top 200 or Grand Slams. But still, being ranked 300 in the world is something to be proud of. And a lot of them made it not because they were super talented, you know?
Totally, it’s exactly like you said. I feel like the guys who were really good when we were kids—man, they put in the hours. Like you said, maybe they didn’t make it to the top 20, but they became solid professionals. That was the level.
I’ve thought about this before, like, damn, you know? I mean, if you do the math, statistically I probably wouldn’t have become some superstar, but hey—who knows? Maybe I could’ve made it to, say, #600 in the world. And honestly, I would’ve been happy with that. But yeah, I’ve definitely had those thoughts. Especially seeing some of the guys from our generation who did make it.
Just look at Alejandro Moro now. I think he’s the one doing the best out of all of us, right?
He’s a physical beast, and I think mentally he’s really solid too. The thing is, I remember my coach when I was 14, I played against Alejandro and he didn’t think he was anything out of this world. Talent-wise, he wasn’t ultra gifted.
Yeah, I never really saw him shine until we were in juniors or maybe early teens.
Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. I actually admire him a lot. He’s really worked hard for it—put his heart into it.
Yeah, totally.
Alright, let’s go back to the beginning. When did you start playing tennis, and why?
My dad, man.
I was three years old on a padel court. He put a racket in my hand and I started dragging it around. From that moment, I never stopped.
They signed me up for all kinds of after-school activities—tennis, skiing, music, you name it—but all I wanted was to chase a yellow ball. Since then, it’s been tennis, tennis, tennis.
My dad wasn’t a tennis player or anything. He picked it up when he was like 30 or 35, fell in love with it, and made my brother and me play too.
You didn’t try any other sport?
Just football during recess, but I was obsessed with tennis. When I was around 10, I played under-10 and was already doing well.
Even without playing that many days a week, I was already champion of Catalonia and all that. And when a kid’s obsessed with a sport, they just keep going.
Totally. Same thing happened to me—I got hooked and never stopped.
I’m telling you, when I have kids, they’re getting a racket from day one. Not just because tennis has given us so much, but because it teaches you so much too.
Exactly, it gives you discipline and a whole different way of seeing life.
Alright, next question: pressure. Tennis is full of high-pressure moments—tiebreaks, third sets.
How do you approach those? Not just single points like deuce points, but, say, the start of a third set—how do you mentally prepare for that?
I think it’s about coming out strong from the first point.
In tennis, momentum shifts all the time. But in a third set, there’s no room for ups and downs.
What I focus on the most is breathing—slowing down my heart rate. I tend to walk fast, breathe fast, basically hyperventilate. So in those moments, I try to calm down.
I keep things simple: repeat the plays that I know work for me 80% of the time.
If I’m serving and I go up 40-0, then maybe I’ll go for a wide serve and a down-the-line forehand. But otherwise, everything is super basic—crosscourt rallies, come in when it’s clear, no risks.
Tennis is a sport where fewer errors usually win. So be aggressive, yes, but with margin and low risk.
Especially at our level. The difference between college and pro tennis isn’t the speed—it’s the errors and the mental side.
So that’s what I focus on.
And what about confidence? It’s such a big part of a tennis player’s journey.
Sometimes you lose in a few early rounds and start to question everything, especially when you lose to players you feel you should beat. Has that happened to you? And how do you bounce back?
Totally. I think the key is understanding that confidence is earned.
When you’re going through a rough patch, you have to know it’ll pass. It always does—the sooner, the better. So the idea is to trick your mind a little. Tennis is 80% mental, right? So tell yourself, “I’m playing well.” If you’re training hard and playing well in practice, there’s no reason you can’t do it in a match. The only difference is nerves. Once you realize that your real weakness is tension—not your game—you can start to manage it better.
That’s what happened to me. After taking two years off, I started playing again against really good players—some of them were #1 in California, had won junior Wimbledon, all that.
And at first, I thought, “There’s no way I can beat this guy.” But then I realized—yes, I can.
In tennis, anyone can beat anyone. That’s why betting on tennis is so tough.
Look at Alcaraz—he’s #2 in the world and lost last week to the world #80. That’s tennis.
I’ve beaten guys ranked in the 300s. So yeah, you can beat anyone, but you can also lose to anyone.
You need to keep that in mind—it helps you stay cautious against lower-ranked players and gives you confidence when facing higher-ranked ones.
Totally agree, man.
Now, about the loneliness of tennis—it’s known for being a solitary sport.
You went to a normal school your whole life, which is rare. Most people I’ve talked to were in homeschool by 13 or 15. Even though you went to school, I’m sure your life was very different from your friends’. Straight from school to practice.
Did you ever feel isolated or question if it was all worth it?
Yeah, for sure.
But I never thought it wasn’t worth it. I was actually proud. I loved being that “special” kid at school—the one who played tournaments, who the teachers asked about.
It’s definitely a big commitment—lots of training, traveling, missing social stuff. I was lucky to stay in school, but most people don’t.
Still, you gain so much more. The education tennis gives you, the life lessons—you know exactly what I mean.
I’m a bit of a loner anyway, but I love the competitiveness of tennis.
To me, it’s the best sport in the world. That feeling of winning a tournament after all the suffering—that’s pure joy. Better than anything else.
There’s this quote I heard from a pro: “Without suffering, there is no happiness.” That defines tennis for me.
You suffer through bad tournaments, brutal training, missing out on stuff… but then you win that one match, that one title, and it makes it all worth it.
That’s what makes the commitment so fulfilling.
Totally. And now that you’ve mentioned a few things tennis has taught you, if you had to sum it up, what do you think are the biggest life lessons tennis has given you—things that have helped shape your perspective?
I'll say it in English because Spanglish just flows better for me. The first big one is: bounce back from failure. You mess up, you lose, you get injured—whatever setback you face, tennis forces you to get better. And I think it’s even easier to learn that in tennis than in other sports because you lose all the time. You play tournaments every week. In college, you have matches every weekend. So you lose—a lot.
Tennis is a sport for losers, honestly. In a 64-player draw, only one person wins. That’s tough. Everyone else loses that week. So you learn quickly: "Okay, I lost, but I’ve got another shot next week. Let’s do better." Or maybe you had a terrible practice—but the next day you’re back on court at 6 AM, ready to improve.
That mentality of bouncing back from failure—that carries into everything in life. Like at my current job, the guy who hired me literally told me he wanted me on the team because I’m an athlete. He said, “You’re going to mess up, but I know you’ll keep grinding.” And I think that’s really valuable.
Same thing goes for injuries. You get hurt, maybe break your ankle—you start from scratch. Rehab, patience. It sucks, but long-term, it’s such an important lesson.
The second big one is: competitiveness. And that’s a tricky one, because tennis is so competitive that sometimes I’ve taken it to the extreme. Like, I’ve gotten pissed playing Monopoly with friends—true story. But I honestly think that competitive edge is a good thing.
Nowadays, a lot of people are super passive. Like, “Oh yeah, I’ll just go with the flow.” Which is fine. But having that drive—to compete in school, in your career, to want to be better at whatever you do—I think that’s essential. It pushes you to grow, to work harder. My personal philosophy is that whatever you do, you should do it with effort and dedication. Otherwise, what’s the point?
Maybe that mindset is a bit intense, but that’s just who I am.
No, man, I totally relate to everything you just said. I feel the same way about life. To me, the goal is always to become the best version of yourself and to be great at whatever you choose to do.
Like you said, some people find purpose in other things, which is cool—but for me, I love the process of improving. I think tennis gave us that mindset. We’ve been obsessed with improving because we didn’t want anyone beating us. And that mentality transfers to everything—not just the court.
It becomes this obsession, this perfectionism that can be extreme at times, but honestly, I think it’s helped a lot. And that’s the difference between you, me, and someone who maybe never played sports. No judgment to them, of course—it’s just a different way of seeing life.
Alright, so here’s the last question I had written down—though I might sneak in a few more out of curiosity. If you could go back and give your younger self a piece of advice—maybe when you first started playing tennis, or when you were 15—what would you say?
I’d tell myself to stop obsessing over winning so much. To care less about short-term results and focus more on improving, becoming a better version of myself, putting in the hours, not getting angry, and so on.
I used to be super emotional. I’d get mad when I lost, and that was especially true when I was around 15. I’ve matured since then, but back then, it really hurt me mentally. Not only did I lose a lot, but I didn’t enjoy a lot of matches because of that perfectionist mindset. Winning mattered so much to me.
But looking back—why? No one was putting pressure on me. My parents didn’t, my coach didn’t—there was no pressure at home. I was the only one stressing myself out. And I think if I’d eased up on myself and enjoyed the process more, I could’ve reached the same point—or maybe even gone further.
It’s like, enjoy the ride, you know? I could’ve gotten to where I am now with less stress and more joy. But I guess that’s just how I was wired. I can’t blame anyone else for that.
That makes sense, man. Alright, now I want to ask about your future plans. You're actually the first person I’ve interviewed who has already graduated, so I’m really curious—what’s next for you? Is there still any tennis in the mix, or is it all professional now?
Right now, it’s all professional. When I was at Notre Dame, I was focused on academics, but I played well too. The coach saw potential in me—I was playing high in the lineup, competing against top players. But that year, I was fully focused on networking and applying to investment banking, consulting—the usual intense industries.
I landed a couple investment banking offers, and one consulting offer in Dubai. So I was all set to move to Dubai in September 2024 to work for a big consulting firm, and I was really excited about it.
But then, they delayed my start date by 8 months due to bad projects and a rough market. I was like, “Sh*t, I can’t go back to Spain for 10 months and risk them canceling the offer.” So I decided to stay in the U.S. and job hunt over the summer of 2024.
And that’s when I found this role—at a tech company here in Florida. It’s an AI company focused on insurance, an insurtech. I started working there and honestly, I love it. So now I’m at a crossroads: do I stay here in this entrepreneurial environment (which isn’t quite a startup, it’s already large-scale), do I go to Dubai, or do I try recruiting again in the U.S. for consulting or banking?
Clearly, I’ve chosen the professional route. I love tennis and I wish I could keep playing. Actually, a few coaches messaged me last month asking if I still had a fifth year of eligibility.
Technically, I played four years—but I spread them across six, so I don’t think I’m eligible anymore. But man, I got those messages from a couple universities and my eyes lit up. I was like, “Wait, do I still get one more year of college tennis?!”
Who knows? Maybe I could still hit as a sparring partner or something. I’m in Florida after all.
Yeah, the only thing I wanted to say is—since you mentioned you're working at a mid-sized company right now—I honestly think that long-term, recruiters really value startup experience. You actually get your hands dirty and understand how a company truly works.
With bigger companies, even though they’ve got big names—like investment banks or private equity firms—it’s different. In those first few years, you're not really doing meaningful work. You’re climbing that corporate ladder slowly, and it’s tough before you get to a role where you’re genuinely adding value.
That’s exactly why I’m kind of rooted here right now. They actually give me a lot of responsibility—I even travel with the team to meetings in New York. I go with the CEO, who’s a multimillionaire. It’s wild. Like, on paper, it sounds unreal.
When I was at ESADE, there was this huge pressure—direct or indirect—to go into consulting or investment banking. But now I’m in a completely different environment—50 employees, tight-knit, super flexible. I sometimes work remotely. It took me by surprise at first, but honestly, I’m learning a lot. Maybe it’s something I need to reflect more on.
Alright, last few questions—just some quick fun ones. What would you rather win: a Grand Slam or be world number one? And why?
Man, that’s a tough one. I mean, the businessman in me says being world number one probably means you’ve won multiple Masters 1000s and made a lot of money. So, financially, that’s tempting…
But nah—Wimbledon. 100%. No question.
Yeah. Winning Wimbledon in all white, throwing yourself onto the grass... that’s gotta be the number one feeling.
Yeah, that’s a whole other level of emotion. Alright, last one: who was your idol growing up on the court?
I had a lot, but my idol has always been Rafa—kind of an obvious choice, but it’s because of everything he represents. What he means to Spain, his mindset—he’s a beast. Not just in tennis, in any sport, he’s an inspiration to everyone.
My favorite player though? Fognini. The class that guy has… man. I think he should be the next Valldoreix collab, honestly.