There are players who step onto the court to win. Others, to endure.
And then there’s Alexander Bublik… who steps in as if handed the lead role in a David Garrick comedy—racket in hand, soul of a melancholic jester.
In his match against Argentine Tomás Etcheverry, played with emotion and nervous laughter, the Kazakh unleashed his full theatrical range: skyward glances, silent monologues, exaggerated gestures, and movements fit for a three-act tragicomedy.
Yes, Bublik won: 6–2, 3–6, 7–5
But what the audience took home wasn’t just a score—it was a performance to remember. As if Shakespeare had moved to Rome and rewritten Henry V with a tennis racket.
Etcheverry, calm and impeccable, was the perfect counterpart: the stoic knight who held the duel while his opponent danced with absurdity. Between points, Bublik offered a human, ridiculous, and deeply touching range of emotions… leaving spectators torn between applauding the crosscourt backhand or the silent soliloquy that preceded the serve.
And then comes the question—one that stings a little:
Is Bublik really exaggerating?
Or are those grimaces, tantrums, and untimely laughs his way of tuning the strings of his shots, of steadying his soul in the racket’s grip?
Like clowns who make us laugh so we don’t cry, Bublik turns every match into a scene.
And we become lucky spectators of a rare art: the art of playing while truly playing, competing while still feeling, turning tennis into a stage where dreaming is still allowed.
Because sometimes, the most serious thing in sport… is the one who dares to make it look like a comedy.
© 2025 By Pepe Offside. All Rights Reserved. Copyright © 2025 SportJournal.pictures/SalaStampa.eu, world press service Guzzo Photos & Graphic Publications – Registro Editori e Stampatori n. 1441 Torino, Italia
