two coaches, a friend-brother, a taboo girlfriend and managers in London – Corriere.it

Twenty degrees, cloudy, breeze from the South-East, high possibility of rain and, therefore, closed roof. There are days with bluer skies than this to become great though Jannik Sinner he will have to make do with what the convent of Wimbledon passes. His appointment with destiny is today at 2.30 pm, at the center against Djokovic, when he will see himself reflected in the mirror of that combed rival of history who does everything better than him: serve, reply, volley, think. But this is the Wimbledon of swinging youth to the boarding of the pre-established order, in the other challenge Medvedev’s irregularity will try to throw the wonderful twenty years of Alcaraz into a tailspin, and then even a gloomy Friday in July is fine to cut the shadow line.

Of the child who dribbled against the wall in his bedroom in Sesto Pusteria trying to hit the on/off light switch, all that remained is the nest of red hair, education (pioneer Billie Jean King was stunned when Jannik crossed the street to go and introduce himself: «An Italian boy who, instead of spending time on his cell phone, knows the past of our sport, how wonderful…»), the desire to emerge. Giving up skiing is not a regret (“I was good at the giant, I liked Bode Miller. When I chose tennis everyone said to me: how well you play! I was the last to believe it”) but the time has come to consolidate the leap in quality that brought him to No. 8 in the ranking with a sensational victory, the Everest of his very personal Dolomites, Mount Djoker.

It is not only with the enthusiasm of the predestined that one can launch oneself in the climb of the champion of the 23 Major titles, a clear leap in maturity will be needed, the years are almost 22, like last year he was not afraid to part with coach Riccardo Dishes like this today Sinner must not tremble in front of the risk of scratching Djokovic’s legend, breaking his dream of the Grand Slam in one piece.

The archipelago of his affections, he left the mountains at 14 to move to Bordighera and, then, in Montecarlo (where he resides like many sports billionaires), he is insured by a group of men who protect him from the bad weather of the media like a winter coat, by the two coaches (Simone Vagnozzi for current affairs and Darren Cahill, Australian super coach) no one has decided to speak on the eve of a decisive match for the growth of the student, perhaps out of superstition, perhaps wrongly. And then there is Alex Vittur, 39 years oldformer tennis player from Brunico, friend, mentor, adviser, manager (even if the real management, formally, is from London): in the magical world of Jannik, where a sort of girlfriend flutters on social networks to mention which is taboo
, leaf doesn’t move without Vittur not wanting to. He is the older brother to whom mom and dad Sinner entrusted the golden child, he is in the consortium of the Plan de Corones cable cars, he speaks the same language as Jannik, a strict South Tyrolean dialect that no one else understands and makes them unintelligible when they want to communicate with each other exclusively.

This is the Sinner who today tries to prove that the investment of time, money and energy undertaken by Piatti and carried out by others is worth it (it is not a crime to change coaches), the teenager who tries to become a man without losing the pleasure of being in field although a triumph over Djokovic would make it an even more profitable business. He just wanted to play tennis, Jannik Sinner from Sesto Pusteria, Italy.