French Open 2014 Men's Singles Final: A portrait in words

Rafael Nadal

‘Twas said of him as he fended the monster off
in battle but a few suns back.
He’d be the one to go all the way.
He’d fight for the grandest prize.
He’d arch his back; he’d hold his breath,
to sway the king of clay.

The skies breathed fire
as mortals watched.
The warriors took measure of each other’s might.
The shades of blue in their armor 
in midst of a sea of dirt.
War raged on red soil
as wise men cried.
It was a moment of a lifetime,
as the contender began to thrive.

The champion dug his paws in
as he burnt in spite.
He unleashed his venom of choice
in the face of a fight.
Tipped and turned, the contest did;
the relentless sun at the champion’s back.
Finally he wreaked havoc on the challenger’s bid,
as he tore open the little crack.
The unforgiving hour rolled on
as his strength started failing.
He lost his footing in the duel
and took to complaining.
As was the story in the second
the third was different no more.
It was going to end for him, 
in right about four.

Would it be one last fight or the last rites?
He came roaring to unsettle the master,
but his joy was not to live long.
He gave the match away in double blunder,
the master was just too strong.
Glory for the reigning king,
carved through sweat and blood.
There has been truly no better ever
on the hallowed mud.