I posted this reel on Instagram right after Rafa lost his match in the Davis Cup, which was essentially his last professional match and was also his moment of retirement.
I downloaded the reel, but the music wasn’t available to download so it’s silent. Sing along to whatever tune you choose.
Yes, I know a photo appears twice. I was editing quickly and missed it.
The on-court photos that appear to have been taken by amateurs have been taken by amateurs. Namely, me. The on-court photos with Rafa and Feli López wearing blue shirts and white baseball caps were not taken by me, but were taken by someone who was sitting to my left. That person also appears in this video posing with Rafa in a conference room I reserved. I snapped that photo during the second interview with Rafa which I have not mentioned until this day. You’ll see me kneeling down with my elbows on the table. No, I was not angry. I was very tired.
The closing goodbye you’ll see at the end of this video, as well as a similar variation in the previous video, is paraphrased from something Rafa signed for me all those years ago. I will never forget it.
¡Vamos, Rafa! Por siempre.
I have about a thousand photos, but obviously they wouldn’t fit here
It’s a top five moment. I’ve had a lot of favorite moments, but this one is top five, for sure. It was the first time in my life that I had a vision and a hope to accomplish something, and from start to finish, I did. The interview was my idea, and I brought it to the website team. Surprisingly, the stars lined up and everything from there went in my favor. I can’t adequately describe the feeling, other than to say that when whatever hopes and dreams you have/had for yourself seem insurmountable and then they happen, it’s euphoric. It’s the stunned disbelief, it’s the sitting back in your chair and laughing at what just happened. It’s the feeling that you get when you write a great poem – you’re in the zone. It’s an astonishment: did that just happen? It’s a gratefulness to the universe that is verbalized repeatedly. It’s a moment you don’t know if you can ever top, and you question why you would even try. It’s the culmination of hard work and determination and a heavy dose of stubbornness. It’s a thankfulness for loving words so much that you can use them to put together something other people will enjoy. It‘s Girl Power in practice.
I couldn’t resist this capture today. I often walk around my front yard with my phone camera ready and waiting.
Dandelions feed the first bees and also the bunnies. I know people consider them weeds, but they’re not. They are food for creatures that are hungry after winter. They are bright, joyful indicators of spring, and I’ve heard you can make delicious wine from the flowers. The greens are very healthy to eat, as they cleanse the liver.
When the dandelion petals turn to fuzz and their seeds can be dispersed easily, this is where most people have a problem with them in their yard, but I’ve always liked to make a wish and blow the seeds wherever they may go. I’m hoping one day my wishes come true.
I’m not the only one.
One must always take advantage of dandelion fuzzies, even if you’re doing your job at the time. Wishes must never be wasted.It’s almost perfectly round. The imperfection on the top left makes it more interesting. There are a lot of wishes waiting to happen.
As tennis fans celebrate the return of Rafael Nadal to the game in 2024, for what is expected to be his final season, we look back to the year 2006. Rafael Nadal was ranked Number 2 in the world, and had just turned 20 years old two months’ prior. Rafael joined me for an informal interview over breakfast in the restaurant of a hotel in Mason, Ohio, home of the Cincinnati Masters (as it was known at that time).
Many thanks to Rafael Nadal for this interview, and I wish him well in the next phase of his life.
Thursday, August 17, 2006, 9:20AM
This morning I had breakfast with Rafa. Well, he had breakfast, I had water. Originally, we had planned to do a brief question and answer session last night in the atrium of the hotel where we are both staying here in Mason, Ohio, but plans got a bit muddled and a new time of 9:20 a.m. was established.
I arrive at the atrium at the designated time, with my pink notebook, digital camera and Micro RC Racer pen in tote (I demonstrated my mini race car pen for Rafa later. “Yes, I see your car pen,” he humored me.) Minutes later, Rafa ambles down the hall, lugging with him a large cardboard box and chatting on the phone. He points in the general direction of the restaurant, indicating I should follow.
My short legs struggle to keep up with his long strides, but we make it. We are seated at a table near the front and Rafa takes off for the buffet. I sip my water the waitress brings and wait patiently, a bit nervous because I’ve never interviewed anyone before. Rafa arrives with a box of Frosted Flakes and is no longer on the phone. The waitress returns to take Rafa’s beverage order and he surprises me with his answer: hot chocolate. “Funny!” I tell him.
“Read my shirt!” (The print of my shirt reads Yeah, yeah…just give me the chocolate!) “I saw that,” he smiled and laughed. The waitress returns with the hot chocolate and there is no whipped cream. I frown. “You can’t have hot chocolate without whipped cream…” Rafa agrees and asks nicely for some whipped cream. Following Rafa’s consumption of the now melted whipped cream, he then proceeds to pour the entire contents of his Frosted Flakes box into his hot chocolate.
I do a mild shift in my chair. “That’s interesting…” I say. Rafa assures me it is done like this in Spain all the time. The only difference, he says, is that the hot chocolate is made with milk, not with water. We both agree that would taste much better. I’ll have to try the Frosted Flakes/hot chocolate combination when I really need a sugar rush. As Rafa eats his breakfast, the “real” questions begin.
“Do you like this tournament? Do you feel this tournament is helpful to your preparation for the US Open?” Rafa nods, “Yes, I am happy here. I did not play that well in Toronto. My goal is to play well in the US Open.” He mentions to me later on that he has been practicing three and a half hours each day since before this Cincinnati tournament began. I then ask him what his favorite tournament is. He tells me he likes many of them and can’t choose just one. Just about that time, the first fan comes up for an autograph and Rafa diligently signs. “Does it bother you when people ask you for your autograph when you are eating?” I ask. He shakes off my question. “No, it does not. It does not bother me.” Next question: “What’s the weirdest thing a fan has ever given you?” He does not understand me, so he enlists the table of Spanish-speaking men next to ours for help.
The answer: “A rock.” I stare at him. “A rock. Somebody gave you a rock.” One of the men at the table piped up to Rafa, “A rock, just like you.” They all laughed. Rafa let out a small chuckle. He didn’t understand my next question either, and I felt badly that I didn’t know enough Spanish to help him. (My goal: learn Spanish for next time.) But it was an important one, I thought, so again, our friendly neighbors assist. “I want to know what makes him laugh. What kinds of things does he find funny?” Rafa responds, “A lot of different things.” I think he said he likes to laugh and I gave him the universal thumbs-up sign for that response.
“So, when you win a tournament, is it the same feeling each time, or is it just a bit different?” Still munching on his Frosted Flakes concoction, he says, “No, no, it is not always the same feeling each time.” And that was that. “Rafa, this is my first visit to this tournament and I notice sometimes it can be…well…a bit boring when there is no tennis to watch. What do you do for fun during tournaments?” Rafa replies, “I have my computer, I play golf…” I ask if he will go to King’s Island Amusement Park.
He scoffs a bit. “Oh, well, maybe if I lose I will go there.” Cleary his mind is on work, not play. My last question before the interview ended was a bit odd, apparently. “Rafa, can you wiggle your ears?” He stared at me blankly. I lifted my hair to demonstrate. Wiggle, wiggle.
He looked down to his cereal, almost disturbed, and clearly flustered. “No, no, I cannot do that.” Oops. I hope I haven’t violated some kind of ear conduct code. Sorry, Rafa! Then the interviewee asks the interviewer some questions. “Where do you live?” he asks. “About nine hours from here, in a place that looks very much like this place – boring! And here I travel all this way to end up in a place that looks like my home.”
He seemed sympathetic. He lives in Mallorca – he should be sympathetic. He is also sympathetic of my severe sunburn, telling me, “Well, it’s hot…” It’s getting close to the time when Rafa needs to leave for practice. One more fan walks up to the table and Rafa grapples with spelling out personalized autographs using English names for the letters.
He perseveres and gets it right. Rafa asks for the check, signs for it and we’re off. A hotel staff member takes a photo of Rafa and me (I poke him in the back and whisper for him to smile – he does), and he says, “Okay, Amy, see you soon,” or something to that effect. He was already on the move, eager to work off those Frosted Flakes on court, I’ll bet.
“It's Amy,” I said. 