Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

Alcaraz sat on a bench in the rest area, his sweat still damp.

Today's training is complete. I did three sets of cycles in a row, and my fingers are still a little sore.

He picked up his phone and scrolled to a number.

The assistant told him:

"That Chinese player's number, Schneider's newcomer."

Schneider Electric.

At the age of 12, he had just finished a junior match on the clay courts of Murcia.

A German man in a shirt walked over and squatted down.

"When you hit the ball, you don't look at the landing point, you look at your opponent's center of gravity. Who taught you that?"

No one taught him.

Alcaraz himself didn't know what he was looking at.

Schneider took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to his father: "He'll print it out."

Five years.

Schneider never said "I believe you".

He just sat there, waiting to finish his last set, then turned to the next page of the plan, pointed to a technique highlighted in yellow, and said:

"We'll practice this again tomorrow."

Five years have passed.

Alcaraz is 17 years old and ranked 132nd in the world, not far from the ATP top 100... but Schneider has left IMG.

The Germans left him only one letter.

The letter was short, only four lines.

The first sentence is, "There is a young Asian player that I would like to mentor personally."

The last sentence is "You will be able to type it out."

He didn't remember the middle two sentences.

When Aka read the last sentence, only one thought remained in his mind:

He doesn't need me anymore.

Alcaraz's finger hovered on the screen for two seconds before dialing.

The call connected, and there was the sound of wind in the background.

Aca announced his name—Carlos Alcaraz, a Spaniard.

The voice on the other end was tinged with curiosity, but mostly wary: "Hello, Mr. Alcaraz?"

alert.

Aka could sense it.

The other party was not hostile, but seemed to have entered a warning mode, as if facing a telecom fraud.

Aka thought for a moment:

I've watched your matches.

"Your rhythm of continuously pressing the backhand side with your forehand is very good, but when you get to slice, the rhythm breaks down."

"After you've cut, you're less likely to go online because you don't trust your own cuts and you don't dare gamble on the bounce quality after landing."

"So every time you use a slice to transition, you're always a beat too slow to get back to position."

After Aka finished speaking, the footsteps on the other side stopped—the breathing was still there, but the rhythm had changed.

"Who are you?"

The vigilance remains, but the direction has changed.

The initial concern was, "What is this scammer up to?"

The current vigilance is, "How could you possibly know this?"

Aca introduced himself again: "Carlos Alcaraz, judging from your voice, are you training?"

He doesn't like others interfering with his training, so he was also worried that it would be inconvenient for Chen Jixian.

"...Go home after school."

There was a moment of silence on Aka's side.

School's out?

Is this person still in school? Do they only train for a few hours each day?

He suddenly asked:

"How long have you been practicing?"

"One...year".

Aka's finger twitched.

The phone was gripped even tighter.

He was taken away by Schneider when he was 12 years old, trained for 3 years before turning professional, and trained for 5 years before making it into the ATP Tour.

This person has been training for a year and can already defeat professional players, and by a crushing margin.

For a moment, Aka didn't know how to respond.

The person on the other end spoke again, this time a little faster than before.

"Actually, it's more than a year."

"I used to play ball when I was a kid, but I stopped for a while. There were related courses in high school."

"These weren't taken into account. Saying one year earlier isn't very accurate."

Aka listened.

The words piled up, each one trying to fill in the gaps, attempting to dilute the answer that had slipped out.

When I was a child,

high school,

I let it go later.

These patches were useless; instead, Alcaraz confirmed one thing—it was true that he had only trained for one year.

It's also possible.

Even shorter!?

He composed himself: "It's okay, no need to explain."

The other side quieted down.

Aka could hear the breathing on the other end; it sounded a little hurried.

That person seemed to regret letting something slip.

"I played alright."

"It's mainly because I watch a lot of matches. I've watched Federer's and Djokovic's matches many times... I'm pretty good at imitating."

Aka sat up straight.

imitate?!

This person isn't just boasting about his talent; he's making excuses to patch up his outrageous figures.

But he didn't know what that word meant to another professional player!

Without systematic training,

Without coaching guidance,

He can deconstruct other people's movements and then replicate them on himself.

Aka recalled the video of the final match.

That's right,

It's not just Federer's shadow that's there.

His sliding step is also very similar to Djokovic's.

"So that's how it is."

As Aka spoke,

He suddenly felt like laughing.

I suddenly felt empty inside.

I spent five years, from age 12 to 17, following Schneider's plan step by step.

That person only took a year, starting from the playground after high school, to step into the professional arena.

He realized one fact: Schneider had given up on himself because he had found an unprecedented monster.

"Thank you for telling me all this."

Aka spoke again.

His tone returned to normal.

"It's not appropriate to talk too much on the phone. Let's talk again when you get to the tour."

He paused for a moment.

"...I'll be waiting for you on the tour."

He spoke very formally, as if he were announcing a given fact.

Alcaraz hung up the phone.

He gripped his racket tightly:

"This person showed me that progress can be this fast."

"I need to work harder so that I won't be overtaken."

stand up,

Keep training!

He made up his mind: You have indeed made great progress, but I am the leader and I will not stand still and wait for you!

……

Chen Jixian stood under the ginkgo tree, his phone still pressed against his ear, the screen already dark.

The call log popped up: a Spanish number, the call lasted less than five minutes.

He says,

wait for me?

Where should we wait?

It's definitely not on the streets of Seoul.

"He's waiting for me on the tour?"

"But I've never even played in the Hopefuls tournament!"

[ITF Hope Tournament]

M15, the lowest tier, awards 15 points for the champion and a prize of just over two thousand US dollars.

M25, a step up, with the champion earning 25 ATP points.

The following is,

[ATP Challenger Series]

CH75、CH90、CH100、CH110、CH125，冠军积分从75到125分。

Between each level are dozens of rankings, dozens of lottery tickets, and dozens of people like him gritting their teeth and climbing upwards.

Further up,

[ATP Tour]

However, you have to start from the qualifying rounds and fight your way up step by step.

Competing with a group of people ranked 80th or 90th in the world for four tickets.

Then comes the main competition.

ATP250,

The lowest tier of the tour.

Alcaraz, wait for him here!

In between are five tiers: M15, M25, Challenge, and Tour Qualifier.

There are at least dozens of competitions between them, hundreds of people climbing the ladder like him, and at least one or two years between them.

The person was already standing in that spot, with their back to him, and said—

"I'm waiting for you".

There was no encouragement, nor any polite formalities.

Akka was simply stating a fact that he believed.

"Damn it, how come you trust me more than I do?"