Rafael Nadal has given fans countless memorable moments over the years, and we have seen time and again how much he cares about his youngest fans. Often, it is his smallest gestures away from competition that say the most about him.

With the National Bank Open currently taking place in Montreal, Annie Duofor shared on X a beautiful memory from the 2017 Rogers Cup. Duofor, a Roger Federer fan, recalled the day she watched an exhausted Nadal stop a departing golf cart because he had spotted a five-year-old girl waiting with a drawing for him.

Here is the story, in Duofor’s own words:

9 Years Ago at the Rogers Cup in Montréal: The Day Rafael Nadal Stopped Everything for a Little Girl’s Drawing

This week the National Bank Open is in full swing in Montréal. For the nostalgic among us, here is the moment, nine years ago, when I met Nadal… and his heart.

I am a Roger Federer fan.
One among millions.
But this week, at the Rogers Cup, I lost my heart to Rafael Nadal.

The practice session has just ended. The sun is beating down—especially on his head, which has been soaking up the rays for over two and a half hours. His body devoured every racket stroke like a predator; his muscles stood out sharply, and sweat streamed down his hollow cheeks, his features taut with effort and intensity.

Slowly, Nadal leaves the court and heads toward the exit.

A walkway. A mass of people held back on either side by iron barriers that protect him. I say “protect”—for when a wall must separate us from that love, it is because that love is unsettling.

A golf cart awaits him at the end of the path; his team is already seated, ready to whisk him away the moment he covers the few steps separating him from the vehicle.

The Crowd, the Cart, and the Sudden Stop

Nadal catches his breath. He moves toward the crowd. He makes his way slowly along both sides of the metal barrier—smiling, signing autographs, touching hands, masking his fatigue. He gives of himself. It shows.

Then, with a single stride, he reaches the golf cart and sits down in the back, facing the crowd with his team behind him. His shoulders drop; his chest seems to empty, unburdened of a mighty weight.

And that’s when he sees her.

The little girl with the drawing.

A close-up of his face—clumsily colored in—held on with the energy of despair by the hands of a five-year-old girl with curly blonde hair: Dorothée—the daughter of my friend, whom I am accompanying.

I seize the moment and shout to him in Spanish:

“Rafael, there’s a little girl here with a drawing of you—could you sign it, please?”

But the cart has already started moving. It’s too late.

Nadal, however, has kept his eyes on us. His face changes. His features tighten, looking pained. Sadness, unease, guilt. Our eyes meet; he doesn’t look away.

Then his gaze turns resolute, and his voice booms out:

“PARA!”

“Stop!” in Spanish.

The cart comes to a halt.

Nadal signals a member of his team to come and collect Dorothée’s drawing.

He signs it and hands it back to us.

The crowd—that crowd which loves him and which he loves—applauds him thunderously.

That Beautiful, Tormented Face

Nadal, for his part, is still looking at us.

He smiles sadly.

“I am sorry I cannot do more.”

That is what one reads in that face—that beautiful, tormented face.

Emily Brontë was right:

“I have known a hundred ways of loving. Each one weighed upon the beloved.”

Nine years later, it is easy to understand why the moment stayed with Duofor. And stories like this are exactly why we love Rafa!

Source: @AnnieDufour99