Djokovic and French Open talk about the possibility of retirement in tears: It is hard to say goodbye, red clay kissing goodbye becomes a classic moment

The sunshine in Paris diagonally cut through the red clay of Philip Chartier Stadium. 38-year-old Djokovic knelt on one knee and hit the ground with a racket heavily. The scoreboard 6-3, 6-2, 6-4 looked like three burn marks - he didn't even force a break point for Sina's serve. There were a little sigh in the voices of "Novak" in the stands. The man who had held the musketman's cup 10 times was now covering half of his face with a towel, and his Adam's apple rolled between the sweat-soaked collar. When the referee shouted "Game, Set and Match", he stood up as slow as he was fighting some invisible gravity, and the knee guard dragged out slender marks on the red clay. The spotlight in the interview area was on his green stubble, and Djokovic's fingers repeatedly rubbed the edge of the microphone. "This may be the last time I played here." When this sentence was released, the throat seemed to be stuck in broken glass, and the tail sound was trembling slightly. He suddenly laughed, a little far-fetched, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes squeezed into deep grooves: "Look, I'm a little incoherent now." Someone in the audience shouted "We love you", and he turned his head and the Adam's apple slid quickly. "If this is really the last game..." He paused for a long time, looking over the camera and looking at the empty stands, "Do you know? When I was broken in the first game, I suddenly felt my chest tightening - not because of my nervousness, but suddenly realized that maybe I won't hear it again."

"I want to continue playing, of course." He suddenly raised his voice, as if to refute an invisible questioner, "During training yesterday, I was still arguing with the coach about the angle of backhand cutting. Look at my muscles," he rolled up his sleeves and on his forearm The tendons were raised and flattened, "They were still telling me that they could play." But when they said "12 months later", the voice sank again, and their fingers unconsciously hit their thighs. "At this time last year, I thought I could play three more French Opens. Now... do you know what professional tennis is? It's like standing on the edge of a cliff and flying a kite. You never know when the wind will stop." He suddenly turned to look at the red clay on the side of the field, his eyes became soft, "But do you notice? The soil here seems to be redder than last year, which may be my illusion." The movements when he left the court almost became an instinctive reaction. The right palm rested on his lips for three seconds. When he leaned over, his knees made a slight sound. The moment his fingertips touched the red clay, his fingertips quickly crushed the sand - a habit he had when he first stepped into the French Open in 2006. The backpack strap slid down from his shoulder and was grabbed. He walked very slowly, and every step seemed to be measuring the distance from the venue. There was a child in the stands shouting "Don't leave". He turned around and waved his hand, with a complicated smile on his face, like comfort and self-deprecating. Until his back disappeared at the player's passage, the dark blue corner of his clothes was still shaking on the door frame, like a leaf that he refused to fall.

When Djokovic's fingers stroked the red clay, some people saw the hero's sadness in the late twilight, and some people read the warrior's attachment to the battlefield. He said "maybe it the last time", but he left room for "uncertainty" - is this the veteran's compromise on the years, or the champion's secret expectation for returning to the top? The cruelty of professional sports is that no one can always stand in the spotlight; and its warmth is that when you have to turn around, there is always someone who keeps a lamp for you. Maybe we should be glad that in this fast-food era, we can still witness a legend talking to his battlefield in such a gentle way. As for whether there will be a miracle in 12 months? Who can say that new seeds will not be planted under the red soil?