Back in the day, Rafael Nadal, 15, endured a strange evening. In the company of two men he respected, Rafa sat silently listening to them speculate about his future. This was early 2000 and Nadal, along with his coach and uncle, Toni, were guests at the home of Spain’s national hero of that period – the square-jawed, long-haired Carlos Moya.
During dinner, Moya, Spain’s first-ever World No.1, threw a ridiculous question at Toni. Can you sign on a paper proclaiming that Rafael will turn out to be as good as Albert Costa? Just a few months back, Costa had won the French Open. Not known for diplomacy or false modesty, Toni declined. In his deep tenor-like voice, he said Nadal would do better than Costa. Moya didn’t end the game there. “Do you think he is as good as me, can you sign on to that?”
Years later, recalling those bizarre meal-time events in a podcast; Toni said he reluctantly signed the paper just to be courteous to their generous host. But once the goodbyes were done and Toni was sure that the door behind their back was shut, he looked at an utterly confused young Rafa. “I told him, I should have never signed on it but had to. I am sure you will be better than him. For me, it is not enough for you to be Carlos Moya.”
Everyone deserves an Uncle Toni in their lives but only a few lucky nephews and nieces are blessed to have one. Nadal would at times feel the greatness inside him but he wasn’t sure. Toni was always around to remind Rafa that he was the ‘Special One’. The uncle also forced him to train hard, shielded him from distractions and, like that evening at Moya’s home, didn’t let his impressionable ward be satisfied by being merely as good as one of his idols and limit his goals.