Jannik Sinner’s patience. “I miss playing; the important thing now is to look after my body”

When asked if he plans to return to action in Australia, Jannik Sinner replies: “I hope so, I’m working towards it.” It’s not exactly what his fans would like to hear. “How am I? Fine. I’m following the protocols; I’ve got the best doctors in the world by my side: I have no choice but to trust them,” he adds. He says this with his usual ‘good lad’ expression, giving the impression that he’s still hanging on to something he doesn’t know, something he can’t control and that’s beyond his control. “I miss competition, but right now the important thing is to look after my body: I’m only 25, I want to play for another ten years. It’s the first time I haven’t been in control of things; it’s a feeling I don’t like, but I have to accept it. I go from the driving simulator to the gym; I don’t watch too much tennis on the telly because I’d rather be out there on court myself,” he confesses. He is in Milan to present his new role as global brand ambassador for Allianz. He arrives with his entourage, including Darren Cahill, at the auditorium of the insurance company that backed him a few months ago and is today launching an advert in which he says: “Sometimes stopping is the best way to move forward.” It seems to be the slogan for his summer, his autumn and his winter. He arrives wearing a suit in an indefinable colour – somewhere between dark brown and dark grey, dark chocolate or plum if you prefer – over a white T-shirt by Gucci, of course. For an hour, he answers everyone’s questions. He begins with an interview with Giacomo Campora, CEO of Allianz Italia, who had been lucky enough to watch his last match, the final he won at Wimbledon.

Jannik doesn’t shy away from questions, but he can’t dispel all doubts. And not being able to do so – not being able to control everything – must be driving him mad. He describes himself as a normal lad: “The most important thing is that success has never changed me. I’m the same lad I was when I left home at thirteen and a half. Of course, I’ve matured, but I think I’ve remained a normal lad. Normality is the most important thing; it’s what connects me to people, both at work and in my private life. We live in a world where there’s so much attention, so many people who want to get into your life and you never know why. But I don’t think I’ve ever lost my sense of normality.”

This is perhaps the best way to understand Jannik, especially now that tennis has presented him with a bill he has never had to pay before: the cost of waiting. At twenty-five, Sinner is forced to watch others play, win, and claim titles and places in the rankings. He, who has built his success on the ability to control every detail, has suddenly discovered that there is something he cannot command: his own body. The word that keeps cropping up is ‘patience’. A word that almost seems like a contradiction for a young man used to living his life trying to get to the ball before anyone else. “It’s the first time I’ve lost control. It’s a strange feeling, and I don’t like it.” Darren Cahill, sitting next to him, smiles. The Australian knows Jannik better than almost anyone else and knows how hard it is for him to sit on the sidelines. “He hasn’t always been a particularly patient lad, but in this situation he’s showing incredible composure and maturity.”

The target is Australia, possibly preceded by a few warm-up tournaments. But this time there will be no shortcuts. The initial plan was for a quicker return, perhaps as early as the American hard courts. Then the doctors insisted on a change of course. “We had a goal in mind that turned out to be impossible. We’ve chosen a different path. I’m a tennis player, not a doctor. I have to trust the people looking after me. If we rush things too much, we risk more serious problems.”

Meanwhile, Jannik’s life has turned into an unusual routine. The gym, rehabilitation, family and, above all, a driving simulator. “I stay at home and play on the simulator practically all day. Then I go to the gym, come back and get back on the simulator. I’ve always said that one day you’ll see me in a racing car…”, he jokes, whilst thinking of Kimi: “What he’s managed to achieve is incredible. At twenty, he seems to do everything with astonishing ease. It looks normal, but it isn’t. He went through some tough times in his first season, worked incredibly hard and learnt to handle certain situations with a speed that only a phenomenon can possess. It really moves me to watch him.”

Not least because Antonelli recognises something of himself in him. “I know him and his father a bit. They’re ordinary people. Kimi isn’t the sort of person who needs to be seen in a fancy car; he’s a very laid-back lad. I think this ordinariness is what connects us more than anything else.” Two lads who grew up quickly without being in any hurry to become celebrities.

Time away from the courts also provides an opportunity to reflect on what has happened. Even the victories, which, when they came one after another, risked seeming almost taken for granted. “Before, it all seemed natural. You’d go to a tournament, win it, go to the next one and win again. Now I’m learning to appreciate even more what I’ve managed to achieve. My desire to win has grown even stronger. I’ve never regarded tennis as a job and I never will. I feel lucky to be doing something I love so much. When I return, perhaps I’ll be able to enjoy it even more.” We can’t wait.