Alcaraz beats Nadal for the first time in his career and will face Djokovic in the semifinals of the Madrid Masters

Nothing in the future: Carlos Alcaraz is already a rabid present.

Pure and hard news.

against the established order.

A massive reality.

It was verified by Rafael Nadal, who was defeated by the Murcian (6-2, 1-6 and 6-3, in 2h 28m) with a last passing blow that fell into the angle, overwhelmed the Mallorcan and marked a before and after.

Twice they had faced each other, the first one a year ago and in the same setting, the Caja Mágica in Madrid, the other in Indian Wells;

twice he had imposed the Balearic hierarchy on him.

However, the heir triumphs with determination, marks a turning point and becomes the youngest semifinalist in the history of the tournament.

And since the story is about first times, the script now pairs him with Novak Djokovic (6-3 and 6-4 against Hubert Hurkacz), the next great challenge.

Another door to knock down.

It will be this Saturday (16.00, La 1).

AC/DC's

sounds blaring over the public address system ;

the prelude, always, that something explosive is going to happen.

War drums, and on Nadal's face a grimace of resignation can be quickly guessed.

Before jumping onto the dance floor, the Mallorcan is in a trance, mentally sheltered in the usual liturgy;

that is, music while his physio protects his fingers with a tape, trying to visualize where the shots can go and devising how he can get around a rival who intends to eat the world and draw a red circle around this already historic May 6th.

What he anticipates does not please him, because he knows very well the potential of his rival and how the Murcian spends it, a fan on the go.

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The day before, the Balearic had already anticipated that the crossing would come at an inopportune moment for him, just as a physical after a month and a half in the infirmary.

And as soon as the action begins, what could be suspected becomes a confirmation.

Far from wrinkling or being impressed by the mystical silhouette of the great champion, Alcaraz, enjoying himself, flutters through the center and begins to shake with that overflowing and overwhelming right, so stunning.

There is an exchange of

, but the Murcian begins to unbalance the balance and Nadal begins to twist his face, forced to constantly row against the current in the rallies.

Suddenly, the Majorcan is before a mirror of the past.

Suddenly, Nadal recognizes himself and sees that long-haired boy who almost two decades ago began to drive his rivals crazy based on vigor, honor and high voltage.

He tries to shoot everything to escape the boarding, but Alcaraz accelerates and accelerates, squeezes and squeezes the boy from El Palmar to eat the first partial in bites and rethink the ordago he threw at him in the Indian Wells semifinals.

For him, everything flows, everything carbures;

everything invites you to think in one direction.

A radically different scenario from a year ago, when the tension turned him into a snack and he bowed with hardly any signs of rebellion.

bumpy development

By then a couple of strange things have already happened.

Nadal, who doesn't trust himself even in training, mistimes and misses a ball that kisses the line, and then watches in the net as Alcaraz chases a deep and seemingly unattainable ball, but which is finally intercepted with the backhand and it transforms into an arrow with return, in the form of a cross.

He shakes his head at the Balearic.

You don't finish seeing, you don't finish getting the sensations and in front of you an electrical storm has unleashed that doesn't stop, so pull the script and cunning, and machine, to see if you can somehow reverse the dynamics of the game – insistence on the reverse – and contain the youthful effervescence.

So far he can't find the solution,

When trying to return a heeled ball to the wrong foot, the Murcian's shoe got caught in the clay and his right ankle twisted from the outside in.

In addition, when falling, he hurts the thumb of his hand and cannot grip the racket well.

In the blink of an eye, everything changes.

Alcaraz is on the sidewalk while they bandage the joint and curses.

He rewinds a bit and remembers the gusts of wind that quelled his insurgency in Indian Wells;

now he stops an accident.

It is not the only one in the afternoon.

Nadal has already hit him blank when the referee, Nacho Forcadell, orders a stoppage because apparently a fan is indisposed, requires health care and there is a stir in the stands.

Everything has gotten stuck.

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The action is interrupted for a quarter of an hour and when it resumes, the man from Manacor exerts himself without hesitation.

He sniffs out blood and attacks.

He matches.

It's Nadal, the great white shark opening his jaws again.

He wears those terrifying saw teeth for anyone, but Alcaraz is not afraid, who feels fabled by the pause and the change of shirt.

As if he had not suffered any mishap, with the vigor of his age, he returns to being the same from the beginning.

He parks the pain and looks straight ahead.

He lunges big.

Now, the one showing his jaws is him.

He is no longer that sweet boy of last year, but a speeding express who plans to blow up the

.

"Third time's the charm," he warned the night before.

And so it happens.

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