Carlos Alcaraz, the unconquerable champion at Roland Garros with a historic feat

• Straight
• Statistics
• Chronicle

Jannik Sinner is number 1, yes, but in this Big 2 that tennis has become today, Carlos Alcaraz is the best of the two. And in planet tennis. Only in this way can we understand the result of this final, these two sets down recovered with perseverance, patience, and tenacity. Alcaraz becomes impregnable against this Philippe Chatrier, who celebrates in grand style the confirmation of his undeniable superiority—physically, tennis-wise, and mentally. Roland Garros champion with an epic and apotheotic performance that underlines his sovereignty on this court, in this tennis, against this opponent. Second consecutive Coupe des Mousketeers and fifth Grand Slam, out of five finals played. The limit of the extraordinary in five hours and 29 minutes.

"Victory belongs to the most tenacious," goes the saying from Roland Garros at the Philippe Chatrier. It's a maxim that holds true in this 2025 final. There's a lot at stake, beyond the Coupe des Mousketeers: Alcaraz's experience, Sinner's growth, defeating the Italian for the fifth consecutive time, proving one's number 1 status to end the losing streak. And it all hinges on the mind and the hand.

There, the two engage in a first set of probing, with a lot of respect and a lot of errors. The robotic Sinner shows he's human. He doesn't move a muscle, saying the storm is brewing inside, and the example is that he doesn't get any first serve and is down three break points in the first game. He saves them, being number 1, and because Alcaraz's hand isn't sharp either, twelve minutes to 1-0. There's tension, nerves, many statistics and strategies that they've tried to memorize, but break points on both sides.

More alert after a scare, the Spaniard seems to be taking control, dominating the baseline no matter how much Sinner stretches, his serve never landing, and without that shot, he's less of a Sinner. Alcaraz shows he's been here before, and there's nothing like experience to provide answers to problems that arise.

The Murcian pushes, or at least wants to work on seven break chances, again a list that's too long to be expected, before he puts a foot forward. It's a mirage, because it activates Sinner more than himself. The Italian, confident without risk in his execution, needs fewer opportunities to win back the serve and regain his level playing field, patience, calm, strategy, the chess game, which is played with everything before the racket.

The match is so cerebral, slowed to the point of extreme slowness that Alcaraz calls a timeout because the sand has swirled around him and gotten into his eye. A minor stumble, however, precedes a poor game. The match is too slow for his liking, and with a certain tension from missed opportunities, three errors follow that weren't right, just like against Lorenzo Musetti in the semifinals. And just like against the Carrara native, it's a forehand down the line that grants Sinner the break and the set. In 63 minutes.

The Italian has strung together 30 sets in Grand Slam matches unopposed, dating back to the Australian Open Round of 16. But he knows, like everyone in Chatrier, that this final won't be so easy. Not even with the Spaniard's sportsmanship, who gives him a good serve when he had been told it was out. Not even when Alcaraz contracts his arm muscle again, gripped by tension, and gives away another break for 3-0.

Still a bit out of place, the Spaniard concedes too much, and the crowd reminds him of it. "Carlos, Carlos," he acknowledges with his fists pumping as he tries to find answers, his ease, his fluidity. Still, he shows tenacity, holding on, with Sinner serving to win the second set. He had only managed to convert one break point out of seven possible, but with composure and reason, he manages to earn the eighth, which became key to changing the dynamic, the mood, and the direction of the match. It speaks volumes for Alcaraz's persistence and for Sinner's certain weakness, shaky in this game on the edge. It's just a break that the Murcian recovers and the crowd wakes up, turning around to support him, and he returns the salute, for this is what he needed.

The spell doesn't cast on him in these instances. At least not in the short term. Yes, there's a shot on the table to reach the tiebreak two hours into the match, but it's not enough to hold back his anxiety, which once again yields more errors, and too many of them, because Sinner finally takes over and seals the victory in that 69-minute second set, 31 consecutive sets without a blemish. The mountain and the statistics are uphill, as Alcaraz has never won in these circumstances.

History is there to remind us of what happened, but not to decide what happens today. And although it lacks the spark or order of other episodes, Alcaraz refutes what has been written with more determination than skill. This isn't for flourishes, but for work. To find one's path while trying to prevent Sinner from making his own.

From that 5-3 recovery in the second set, there's a change of pace and attitude in the third, although it hasn't yet borne fruit. The direct match that was expected is beginning to appear, and the level is rising. It's still all restraint for the Italian, and not yet at his peak for the Spaniard, but the cards are revealed, and there Alcaraz reveals his tenacity: very deep returns that break Sinner, and it's a 4-1 victory with a furrowed brow and a finger to his ear.

"Here we go. Convinced," Ferrero shouts from the bench. The pupil listens, saying he can endure anything physically, tennis-wise, power-wise, and leg-wise, and he also once again shows that mental growth to find solutions, to keep going despite everything. Now with his forehand at full power, he risks lines that even Sinner can't come close to, dizzying him at that limit where the number 1 discovers he's still a bit short: serve to win the first set, serve to hold in the third. And then he puts his finger back in his ear, because that's what tennis is all about, spectacle.

They've left it all until the fourth set, three hours into the match. Respect and equality continue, and brilliance finally dawns in style, with 15 head-to-head rallies between the man with the most clay-court wins this season (21, one loss), and the man with the most Grand Slam victories on a row (20, since the Wimbledon quarterfinals against Medvedev). Every point is a duel, half the court already in shadow, but sunshine on Alcaraz's side, who recovers from a huge problem in the third game with a "Come on!" that flies straight through Paris.

It's a desperate cry. He doesn't shine as he has on other occasions, and he gives up his serve again in the eighth game. Even more difficult, but there's determination, no one disputes that. And no one disputes that Sinner has grown, but he still concedes that point of weakness that can be seen when he finds himself with three match points on return and doesn't know what to do with them. Well, he's facing this Alcaraz who reminds us of other warriors, who saves those three match points and still allows himself to celebrate with the crowd.

Alcaraz, tenacity personified, pursues the feat, and makes the Italian tremble: a forehand into the corner, a magical volley, a mistake, and it's 5-5 to the delight of the crowd and to continue writing the history of this sublime final in Paris.

There's another chapter in the tie-break, in which the Murcian's revolution is consolidated, growing stronger, stronger, more serene, more Alcaraz-like; and the Italian's weaknesses are confirmed once again, as he can't hold the serve, lost on those three match points, in that service game he had in his favor, and he also crumbles in the tie-break.

The situation is seen as a slow death, as Chatrier predicted, which was the final blow. Although they're actually tied in everything, the feeling is that Alcaraz has everything under control. I'd already said that the opponent would have to do a lot to beat him. Dominating, playing well, poorly, average, with fireworks and wet powder, he's regaining his fluidity of movement, winning forehands, energy, and the scoreboard.

With four and a half hours of play, complete shade on the Chatrier, the sun completely on the Spaniard's hand, who neither sweats nor suffers from the effort, and lashes out relentlessly. He knows he has Sinner where he wants him, pinned down and afraid of losing a final he had won, and he ends up whipping him away with a whiplash to break his resistance in the fourth game. "Break," madness, and exhibition points, it was time to have a little fun after all the suffering and restraint.

There's time for drama, as he now serves to win, but Sinner rebels at 0-30. And he fights back even more to regain the break. More intensity, more tennis, is impossible. But this Alcaraz is immense, extraordinary, colossal. There are tantrums, and let them be, and there are parties, let them be. Because he overcomes another scare and climbs into the super tie break like the formidable fighter he is. Forehands to the angles, stupendous drop shots, as if instead of a Grand Slam final against Sinner, he were playing with his brother in training. Honors for the Italian, yes, but this time it's not his turn, as Alcaraz seals it with a backhand, clenches his fists, dries himself on his towel, and smiles, for a 5-0 lead is no longer an escape.

Alcaraz proves impregnable after five and a half hours, defending this Philippe Chatrier with nails, teeth, heart, tennis, and head. He finishes off the Italian with winners down the line, in full splendor. And it's another thorn in the face-to-face, and it's 8-4, and these are the last five duels in favor of the Spaniard, and this one is worth a thousand, because he recovered from 3-5, 0-4, three match points, having never come back from two sets down, to finish with a champion-style walk-off; second Coupe des Mousketeers, fifth Grand Slam from five finals. At 22 years, one month, and 34 days. The youngest after Bjorn Borg and Rafael Nadal. As Roland Garros said: "Victory belongs to the most tenacious."