Huff, huff, huff, huff…
Gawain breathed deeply, trying his best to deliver oxygen to his cells.
Sweating profusely and exhausted, the whole person feels like being in a sea of fire. Every inch of muscle and every nerve can feel the burning heat. The strength dissipates like the tide, and then you can feel the twitching in your fingertips, knees, and calves, gently stirring up bit by bit.
Uncontrollably.
He needed to catch his breath.
In fact, I didn't feel any pain at that moment, only a deep tiredness that dragged my ankles slowly down, and even my fingers couldn't move.
The breath was like a raging fire, almost burning the chest, as if one could hear the gurgling of magma in the chest.
Using the last bit of willpower to support himself and stand up again, Gawain finally took a step forward. He could see through the net that Tsonga was already standing there waiting, also sweating profusely and looking tired.
Tsonga was a little dazed and for a moment, he still didn't understand what was happening.
The entire third set seemed abnormal, so unexpected and weird that even when the game was over, it still didn't feel real, a bit... baffling; but when I calmed down and thought about it carefully, I missed so many break points before and after, which seemed to foreshadow such an outcome.
Bitter? Sad? Depressed? Angry? Lost?
Perhaps, there are some of all the above emotions, intertwined and mixed together; but the real focus is still confusion——
How come we lost the game?
The more confused and lost he was, the more he admired Gawain when he looked up at him again, as if he had seen a monster.
Tsonga stretched out his right hand, took Gawain's right hand and pulled hard, causing the two men's shoulders to collide.
"Others still call me a monster, but now it seems that you are the real monster of the ATP."
Very rarely, Tsonga made a little joke.
In fact, in private life, Tsonga is a person who likes to joke and is humorous and cheerful; it's just that he seldom shows this side of him on the court. Only when he meets other French friends of the same generation and age will Tsonga show his naughty side.
And today, Tsonga showed his rare ability.
The corners of Gao Wen's mouth slightly raised, and although he showed a smile, he still couldn't hide his tiredness, and the feeling of overdraft emanating from inside out was lingering.
"Sorry, I'm still the winner."
A little bit of teasing, a little bit of joking, still bearing Gawain's iconic mark, but one can still sense that this is different from usual.
Tsonga couldn't help laughing. He seemed to have a lot to say, but he swallowed it down in the end. He gave Gawain another warm hug and whispered in his ear, "Man, you deserve it."
Simple words, yet they contain so much.
For Tsonga, he announced his return from injury before the French Open. Over the past three months, he has been struggling to recover and try to get back to his peak form.
Obviously, this is not easy.
It was not until Toronto that they finally found some touch and their form recovered a little, but they encountered such an abnormal game and ended up losing. Not being able to successfully defend the title is one thing, and hitting a wall when their form recovered is another.
Disappointment is inevitable.
However, looking at Gawain's abnormal amount of sweat and the blood gradually disappearing from his face, the broken feeling after overdrawing could no longer be hidden.
Tsonga understood immediately.
He himself has not yet completely recovered from the injury, and everything Gao Wen is experiencing now is the nightmare he has experienced and is still experiencing in the past few months.
At this moment, there is more empathy in the words, and thousands of words finally evolve into admiration and congratulations. This is a feeling of mutual respect and also the admiration from colleagues. It is precisely because he himself is experiencing it that he understands more clearly how rare everything that happened today is.
Released from the hug, Tsonga looked at Gawain with concern, "Is everything okay?"
Gawain exhaled lightly and gave a bitter smile, "I'm not sure. But at least, I finished the game. Maybe it wasn't that bad."
Tsonga understood 100%, and his expression became serious. He nodded slightly, "End the press conference as soon as possible and go to the hospital for a detailed check-up."
After saying that, Tsonga gently patted Gawain on the shoulder to convey his blessing. Without saying anything more, he turned and walked towards the referee. Without any courtesy or refusal, Tsonga was the first to shake hands with the referee, and then gave the court to Gawain. What followed was the moment for the winner.
When Gao Wen shook hands with the referee and returned to the center of the field, all the audience stood up.
At this time, there were not many spectators at the scene. The audience left in the middle of the game, causing most of the venue to be emptied, with an attendance rate of less than 50%, as if returning to the time when Gao Wen just entered the professional arena; but the specific situation was different. The audience who stayed until the end gave Gao Wen enthusiastic applause without hesitation.
"Pah! Gawain!"
"Pah! Gawain!"
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The sparse shouts were neither loud nor deep. They struggled to hold on in the strong evening wind in Toronto, but were torn to pieces in the blink of an eye.
But looking at this scene in front of him, Gao Wen was filled with emotion, and his nose felt a little sour.
There was no cheering, no roaring, no jumping, no celebration... nothing. Gawain simply placed his left hand on his chest, feeling the power of his heartbeat, raised his right hand and waved to the audience, and looked around the venue 360 degrees, quietly imprinting the scenery in front of him in his mind bit by bit.
Plop. Plop. Plop.
The heart was beating strongly.
In fact, the importance of this game is far from that precious. It is just a quarter-final match of a Masters tournament. With Gawain's victory, he successfully advanced to the semi-finals of this year's Rogers Cup. That's all. It is not comparable to Gawain's countless previous games.
But for Gao Wen personally, this was a game that once again changed the trajectory of his career.
To be honest, he thought he couldn't go on and he thought he would quit midway. Compared with winning or losing, the injury was the real focus.
After experiencing the nightmare of retiring early due to injury in the previous life, he suffered injury again and was completely helpless. The inner demon took control of his soul again. The fear, timidity, retreat and hesitation, the negative emotions that he had not felt for a long time came alive again.
More than once, Gao Wen thought about withdrawing from the competition. What if his injury got worse? What if his unnecessary stubbornness caused the injury to cause more harm? Even if he controlled himself rationally and didn't leave, he was still distracted in the competition and couldn't concentrate at all.
He thought he couldn't cross this threshold.
However.
He did it, not only finishing the game, but also finding a way to victory.
For Gao Wen, the value of this victory is no less than the final in Flushing Memphis last year when he defeated Cilic.
"6:4", "5:7", "6:4".
He will never forget this game, nor will he forget the score.