SportJournal.pictures
Rome, 06/05/2025
At the Vatican, incense floats and conspiracies brew. But just a few racket swings away, at the Foro Italico, robes give way to wristbands, and the solemn murmurs of cardinals are replaced by shouts of “Out!” and flying forehands. The International Tennis Tournament of Rome begins… and not even the Pope is safe.
Because the Foro isn’t just a tournament — it’s a Roman circus in sneakers.
The bread?
Focaccias with prosciutto sold at 9 euros a piece.
The circus?
Djokovic playing with the face of a bored emperor, waiting for someone to break his serve.
The gladiators?
Sinner, Alcaraz, Swiatek, Sabalenka… and every top seed training for Roland Garros with a blessing from Rome’s skyline.
Meanwhile, the Romans do what they do best:
• Cheer wildly at anyone who says “grazie mille” without butchering it.
• Complain about the heat, the price of water, and the ATP ranking like it’s the government.
• And pick their champion based on backhand strength… or hairdo.
And the setting?
It’s pure cinema. Ruins, obelisks, fountains, pine trees that watch over the clay. At times, it feels like Rafa Nadal might be canonized on court 3 between sets.
And the players?
They sweat, sprint, cramp, and gaze skyward after each point — not looking for a hawk-eye replay, but divine intervention. Because in Rome, you either adapt… or go home in the first round.
Bottom line:
The Foro Italico is a conclave with rackets. Favorites, underdogs, speculation, suspense. No white smoke — just red clay and plenty of drama.
And if you don’t win in Rome? Relax. It’s just the most glamorous training session ever… for Paris.
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