Finish this twisted Roland Garros with him, man in black, arms raised. Finally, Alexander Zverev triumphs and achieves that greatness that his sport surely owed him and that had been denied him until now, at the threshold of his thirties. Three options had disappeared, in which Flavio Cobolli, consumed from sprinting from one side to the other, ended up deflating in the final stretch: 6-1, 4-6, 6-4, 6-7(5) and 6-1, after 4h 16m. The German, then, already has that trophy that was missing and that belonged to him, having resisted the push of two supersonic generational forces, one in front and one behind: from Djokovic, Nadal and Federer to Sinner and Alcaraz. Too much for him, too much for anyone. He is 29 years old, now has 25 titles and whatever happens, will die tennis in peace. With a track record of bells.
