A Tale of Two Finals: Mastery, Manifestation, and Meltdowns at Roland-Garros.

This past weekend, the red clay of Roland-Garros told two very different stories in the Men’s and Women’s Singles Finals. One ended in a spiral of self-destruction. The other, in five hours and twenty-nine minutes of generational brilliance. Two matches. Two worlds. One truth: Pressure doesn’t just reveal—it exposes.

The Women’s Final – Sabalenka’s Spiral

Aryna Sabalenka walked onto Court Philippe-Chatrier as the favorite. She had the power, the momentum, the aura. But what unfolded against Coco Gauff in the French Open final was something deeper than an upset—it was a collapse.

From the very beginning, something was off.

Sabalenka’s usual firepower looked forced. Her footwork was heavy. Her service motion—normally a weapon—became erratic. By the match’s end, she had 70 unforced errors. And Coco Gauff, steady and poised, sensed it early. Gauff didn’t need to dominate. She just needed to hold her nerve while Sabalenka unraveled hers.

But what stood out most wasn’t the physical side of the match. It was the unraveling of Sabalenka’s inner world.

You could see it in her pacing between points. In the long, vacant stares. In the clenched jaw and increasingly desperate shot selection. As the match slipped away, Sabalenka didn’t fight to recover. She fought herself—and lost.

Adding to the drama, Coco Gauff’s victory was no accident. Before the tournament, she wrote a simple affirmation on a piece of paper: “I will win the French Open.” She scribbled it over and over, a ritual of intention that became her anchor. That paper—creased and worn—traveled with her through every round, a tangible manifestation of her belief. When she lifted the trophy, it wasn’t just skill that carried her; it was the power of that focused mindset, turning doubt into destiny.

And then came the press conference.

There, Sabalenka—usually bold and charismatic—grew defensive and dismissive. She sidestepped accountability and bristled at questions. It reached critical mass when she suggested that Iga Swiatek would have beat Coco Gauff had she won her semifinal matchup.

It wasn’t just frustration. It was nervous system overload. A full-body shutdown. What we witnessed wasn’t a lack of character or skill. It was a lack of regulation.

Aryna Sabalenka’s post-loss press conference in Paris led to her issuing an apology and giving credit to Coco Gauff via her social media channels.

The Men’s Final – Over Five Hours of Mastery

If the women’s final was a cautionary tale, the men’s final between Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner was a masterclass.

Five sets. Five hours and twenty-nine minutes. The longest men’s final in Roland-Garros history and one of the greatest men’s matches of all time. But this wasn’t about endurance. It was about evolution.

Alcaraz and Sinner didn’t just play tennis. They became the match.

Back and forth they went, refusing to flinch. Alcaraz, with his all-court creativity, mixing angles, pace, and touch like jazz. Sinner, calm and calculated, matching every improvisation with metronomic depth and fierce ball-striking. This wasn’t just about shot-making. It was a full-spectrum performance—technical, emotional, spiritual.

What set this match apart? They both accessed the zone where mastery lives.

Mastery isn’t just technical brilliance. It’s the convergence of three distinct forces:

• Technical Skill: The ability to execute, adapt, and elevate—even deep into a fifth set. Both Sinner and Alcaraz possess superior ball striking, shot-making, and footwork. (Although, it’s my professional opinion they could both work on their breathing.)

Technical skill is the foundation of elite performance, the scaffolding upon which greatness is built. It’s not just about hitting the ball harder or moving faster; it’s about precision under pressure, the ability to adapt to an opponent’s strategy, and the capacity to execute complex plays when fatigue sets in. For Alcaraz and Sinner, this showed up in their ability to shift tactics mid-match—Alcaraz’s audacious drop shots and Sinner’s relentless baseline depth—each move a testament to years of deliberate practice. Yet, skill alone isn’t enough. Without integration into a larger system of presence, even the most refined technique can falter, as we saw with Sabalenka’s unforced errors piling up when her focus frayed. Skill is the tool, but it’s only as sharp as the mind and body wielding it.

• Certainty: Not blind confidence or arrogance, but embodied trust. Alcaraz, down two sets to one, never blinked. Sinner, serving for the match, stayed present and went big even though the outcome didn’t go his way.

Certainty is the internal compass that keeps an athlete anchored in the storm of competition. It’s not about believing you’ll win every point but trusting your preparation, your process, and your ability to meet the moment. Alcaraz’s unshakeable resolve when trailing in the fourth set wasn’t bravado—it was a deep-seated trust in his game, forged through countless hours of training and mental conditioning. Sinner, too, embodied this, staying composed even as the match slipped away, his serves and groundstrokes still carrying the weight of conviction. Certainty is what allows athletes to act decisively when doubt creeps in, but it requires a somatic grounding—a felt sense of trust in the body, not just the mind. Without it, even the most skilled player can hesitate, second-guess, and unravel.

• Humility: The rarest trait at the top—respect for the moment. For your opponent. For the game. For your growth. Both players called shots of their opponent in, when line judges missed it.

Humility is the quiet force that elevates performance from great to transcendent. It’s the willingness to honor the game’s demands and your opponent’s brilliance, even under pressure. When Alcaraz and Sinner corrected line calls in favor of each other, they weren’t just being sportsmanlike—they were demonstrating a profound respect for the integrity of the moment. Humility keeps ego in check, allowing athletes to learn from every point, win or lose, and to approach each match as an opportunity for growth rather than a referendum on their worth. It’s what allowed Sinner to smile in defeat, to speak of his family with gratitude, and to see the loss as a step in his evolution. Without humility, skill and certainty can curdle into arrogance, leaving athletes brittle and disconnected from the deeper purpose of their craft.

When only one or two of these qualities show up, performance breaks down:

• Skill + Certainty - Humility = Ego / Blind Faith in Your Gift

This combination produces athletes who dazzle but falter when the stakes are highest. Skill and certainty can carry you far—think of Sabalenka’s raw power and occasional bursts of confidence—but without humility, there’s no grounding force to temper the ego. The result is blind faith in talent alone, which can manifest as reckless shot selection or an inability to adapt when things go wrong. We saw this in Sabalenka’s spiraling errors and defensive post-match comments, where the absence of humility blocked her from owning the moment and learning from it. Ego makes performance fragile, turning pressure into a mirror that reflects only flaws.

• Humility + Skill - Certainty = Hesitation / No Faith in Your Gift

An athlete with humility and skill but lacking certainty is like a ship without a rudder—capable but adrift. These players have the technique and respect for the game but struggle to trust themselves in critical moments. Hesitation creeps in, shots become tentative, and opportunities slip away. Imagine a version of Alcaraz who doubted his ability to claw back from two sets down—his skill and sportsmanship would still shine, but without the inner conviction to go for broke, the match might have ended differently. This lack of embodied trust often shows up as overthinking or freezing under pressure, undermining even the most polished game.

• Certainty + Humility - Skill = No Foundation / Inconsistent

Certainty and humility without sufficient skill lead to inconsistency—a player who believes deeply and respects the game but lacks the technical foundation to compete at the highest level. These athletes may have the heart and mindset to stay composed and gracious, but without the reps to back it up, their performance falters. Think of a journeyman player who fights with passion and sportsmanship but can’t match the precision of an Alcaraz or Sinner. Their certainty keeps them in the fight, and their humility earns respect, but without the technical mastery to execute under pressure, their results remain unpredictable.

But when all three show up? You get Alcaraz vs. Sinner. You get art.

Highlights of the Men’s Final presented by Emirates.

Perhaps even more than the match itself, Sinner’s response to his loss was both self-aware and classy. In his runner-up speech, he gave nothing but credit and admiration to both Carlos Alcaraz and his entire team. He went on to thank his family who keep him grounded in what’s truly important in life.

"My family, the people who know me... now they are helping, you know [smiling]. It's a giving sometimes. And sometimes you take something. Now it's my time to take something from the close people I have. They will for sure be happy that l'll come back home. With my family, with everyone. We are just a very simple family. My dad wasn't here because he was working today. Nothing of our success changes in the family. It was nice to see my mom here. I guess my dad was watching on TV if he finished work."

That understanding of give and take might help explain why his game has skyrocketed him into conversations as one of the greatest players to ever play the game. He lost the match. He did not lose himself. His family keeps him present and grateful no matter what. This is the funny thing about sports: The scoreboard never tracks the amount of love it takes to reach that level of presence and mastery. His heart was home before his feet could even take himself there.

Losses don't last. Love does.

This is also true of Alcaraz. He is one of the most joyful and entertaining athletes across all sports. It makes sense that his greatest inspiration coming up was none other than the undisputed King of Clay, Rafael Nadal. It’s safe to say that the sport is in very good hands. Look at the recent outcomes from the previous six Grand Slam events:

Australian Open 2024 - Sinner
Roland Garros 2024 - Alcaraz
Wimbledon 2024 - Alcaraz
US Open 2024 - Sinner
Australian Open 2025 - Sinner
Roland Garros 2025 - Alcaraz

The two best players in the world. And the results show it. The future is now, and it’s built from the ground up.

The Better Way

What Coaches, Agents, and Decision-Makers Should See

This wasn’t just a great match. It was a blueprint.

What Alcaraz and Sinner displayed was more than talent. It was a system of high performance—built not just on hours of reps, but on internal coherence. These two didn’t just survive the pressure. They held it.

Sabalenka, meanwhile, had the skill. She had flashes of certainty. But her system—her internal regulation—failed her.

If you’re an agent, coach, or director, the lesson is clear: The next frontier of performance isn’t more reps or tougher conditioning. It’s integration.

Somatics Change the Game

Let’s bring this back to Sabalenka—and to every elite athlete who’s ever felt themselves unraveling mid-match, wondering why their body won’t respond and their mind won’t relent.

Sabalenka didn’t need more grit. She didn’t need a pep talk or a better game plan.

She needed access to herself. And somatic tools provide that access.

They are the missing link between performance and presence. Between survival mode and flow state. Between holding it together and actually being held by something deeper.

Here’s what that looks like in practice:

• Breathwork recalibrates the autonomic nervous system. When the heart races, vision narrows, or limbs go heavy, the breath becomes a lever—pulling athletes back from the edge of fight, flight, or freeze.

• Mindfulness trains attention to stay rooted in reality, not hijacked by fear or fantasy. It’s not about thinking less—it’s about thinking from center.

• Brainspotting unlocks stored trauma and subconscious blocks. The serve that suddenly disappears? The swing that collapses in the final set? Often, those are echoes—not errors.

• Performance Yoga builds internal rhythm. It’s not just flexibility—it’s proprioceptive fluency, interoceptive awareness, and the embodied ability to stay with discomfort instead of bracing against it.

This isn’t soft. It’s strategic. It’s the difference between losing a point and losing the plot. And it’s how you win when everything’s on the line.

Imagine if Sabalenka had been trained to spot the signs of nervous system hijack in the first five minutes. To downshift her physiology before her game unraveled. To re-enter the moment—not from her head, but through her breath, her body, her internal anchor.

That’s what somatic integration makes possible. It’s not just about preventing collapse—it’s about recovering in real time. It’s about giving athletes something stronger than mental toughness: somatic fluency.

And it’s not just for Sabalenka. It’s for every athlete who’s ever choked, snapped, hesitated, or checked out—not because they were weak, but because they weren’t taught to listen to the body beneath the tension.

Final Serve

The French Open gave us two finals. One was a reminder that pressure unmanaged becomes panic. The other, a reminder that when mind, body, and mission align, anything is possible.

Sabalenka isn’t broken. She’s brilliant. But brilliance needs structure. Rhythm. Space to breathe. And tools to return to when things go sideways.

So the question isn’t: “Will this happen again?”

It’s: “Are you building systems to prevent it? And if not—why?”

The future of high performance is somatic, integrated, and unshakeable. Mastery isn’t just earned. It’s built—moment by moment, breath by breath.

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If you or your team need help working in the somatic direction, reach out. I bring 15 years of experience across every major sport—NFL, NBA, NHL, and MLB/MiLB—helping athletes train their bodies and nervous systems, recover from pressure, and unlock sustainable performance. Let’s build something that can withstand the weight of the game.

Metta,

Drewsome.