In the locker room, Tsitsipas stared at his tablet.
The screen is playing a replay of Cheng Che's match against Volkov.
He watched very slowly, replaying each minute repeatedly.
His coach sat next to him, holding a stack of statistics.
"His serve is indeed strong, but his return is even more troublesome," the coach said. "Look at this set, Volkov served three balls at speeds over 210 km/h, and he attacked them all. His anticipation is too fast."
Tsitsipas nodded.
He is eighteen years old this year, a few months older than Cheng Che.
He is Greece, the Australian Open Champion this year, and ranked 42nd in the world.
He had never met a rival among his peers.
But at this moment, as he looked at the boy in the white sports vest on the screen, his palms began to feel damp.
"His forehand isn't as good as mine," Tsitsipas said.
"Yes, but you're not as mobile as him."
"My bottom line is more solid than his."
"Yes, but his serve is faster than yours."
Tsitsipas was silent for two seconds.
He put down the tablet, stood up, and picked up the racket.
His fingers gripped and released the handle of the racket several times.
He looked down at his hands and found that his palms were sweaty.
He wiped himself on his pants and took a deep breath.
"The game is won through competition," he said. "I'm not afraid of him."
The coach looked at him and nodded.
But the coach noticed his Adam's apple move slightly; it was a swallowing motion caused by nervousness.
Hall 2, Grandstand.
There were more spectators today than in previous rounds.
The stands were packed with people, some holding Chinese banners, some Greece flags, and some Xia Country flags.
Lin Yan and Zhou Zhou sat side by side in the commentary booth.
"Ms. Zhou Zhou, today's match has been getting a lot of media attention. Two 18-year-olds, one this year's Australian Open Champion, the other a wildcard entrant who came through the qualifying rounds. What are your thoughts?"
Zhou Zhou thought for a moment.
"From a technical and experiential standpoint, Tsitsipas is more mature. His performance in the Australian Open final proved that he can maintain stability in big situations. But Cheng Che has one thing that Tsitsipas lacks."
"What?"
"His serve and return are beyond his age. Berrettini and Volkov are both top 15 players in the world, and they have no way to deal with Cheng Che's serve. If Cheng Che can maintain this form today, the outcome of the match will be very difficult to predict."
The comments section is already flooded with messages.
[ Tsitsipas is also 18 years old, and he's the Australian Open Champion this year. He's no pushover.]
[A showdown between two 18-year-old prodigies – this is going to be a spectacle!]
I bet Cheng Che will win; his serve is simply unstoppable.
Don't jump to conclusions. Tsitsipas is fast and has a solid baseline game; he's not like Berrettini, who relies on his forehand to attack.
[Yes, Tsitsipas's playing style is more comprehensive, so Cheng Che may not be able to have it as easily as in the previous rounds.]
An announcement came over the loudspeaker in the players' tunnel.
"Ladies and gentlemen, now entering is the Greece athlete, Stefanos Tsitsipas."
Tsitsipas emerged from the passage.
He was a little taller than Cheng Che, about 1.85 meters, with brown curly hair tied back and wearing a blue sweatshirt.
He walked quickly and briskly, carrying a racket in his right hand.
The Greece fans in the stands stood up and applauded. He nodded slightly to them, but his lips were tightly pressed together, and he didn't smile.
"Next up is Xia Country's player, Cheng Che."
When Cheng Che came out, the cheers were twice as loud as before.
He was wearing a white sports vest, dark gray shorts, and sports headphones on his ears.
He walked slowly to the center of the field, stopped, and looked around the stands.
He stood in the center of the field, feeling the gazes pouring in from the stands.
Those gazes converged on his senses from all directions, like a warm current flowing through his nerves.
[ Star of the Court ] quietly began to operate at this moment.
The more people in the stands, the more intense the attention, the stronger his on-the-spot reaction will be.
His vision became clearer; every inch of the court and every net cable on the opposite half was within his sight.
He could hear the wind blowing through the net and feel the elasticity and friction of the hard court beneath his feet.
My body is very light, like a machine that has just finished warming up.
Tsitsipas stood opposite Cheng Che, looking at him.
He saw the boy standing in the center of the court, surrounded by cheers that crashed over him like waves.
Cheng Che's expression remained unchanged, but Tsitsipas felt that the man's eyes were brighter than before.
The referee signaled for them to prepare.
In the first set, Tsitsipas served first.
He stood behind the baseline and dribbled the ball twice.
His fingers tightened on the handle of the racket, then loosened.
He took a deep breath and tossed the ball up into the air.
One shot from the outside, at a speed of 198 kilometers per hour.
Cheng Che took two steps to the side and hit a forehand straight shot. The ball landed on Tsitsipas ' backhand side, bounced up, and flew towards the baseline.
Tsitsipas ran over and delivered a backspin slice.
The ball landed in front of the net. Cheng Che rushed up and lobbed the ball high.
Tsitsipas retreated to the backcourt and unleashed a long cross-court shot with his forehand.
The ball landed in the corner of Cheng Che Che's forehand side.
Cheng Che ran two steps, but couldn't reach it.
"Fifteen to zero."
Lin Yan's voice rang out in the live stream:
"In Tsitsipas ' first service game, his baseline movement was extremely fast. This forehand crosscourt shot was incredibly difficult to land, completely throwing Cheng Che off balance."
A few comments scrolled by.
[ Tsitsipas ' forehand is definitely something special]
[The ball landed so precisely; Cheng Che ran to the spot but couldn't reach it.]
[Don't rush, it's only the first point.]
In the second point, Tsitsipas served an inside corner.
Cheng Che received the serve and launched an attack, then hit a backhand shot with his forehand.
Tsitsipas ran over and blocked the shot with his backhand.
The ball landed in midfield.
Cheng Che went online and intercepted the attack, scoring a point.
"Fifteen to fifteen."
Lin Yan's voice rose. "Great shot! Cheng Che's serve return and attack directly disrupted Tsitsipas's rhythm!"
In the third point, Tsitsipas delivered a high-quality body shot.
Cheng Che sidestepped, his body completing an almost impossible angle change in a very small space.
At the moment of contact with the ball, his wrist made a very subtle rotation, the racket came out from behind him, and he hit a wide cross-court shot with a backhand.
The ball landed inside the sideline.
Tsitsipas took two steps and then hit a forehand straight shot.
He thought this shot would break through Cheng Che's defense.
But Cheng Che was already waiting there.
He lowered his center of gravity extremely low, and his one-handed backhand made a noticeable pause when it touched the ball. Then the ball flew over the net with strong sidespin and landed in Tsitsipas's backhand corner.
Tsitsipas stood still, looking down at his racket face.
His forehand straight shot just now hit the line at 178 kilometers per hour.
A normal person couldn't catch it. But Cheng Che caught it, and he returned an even more tricky ball.
Thirty to fifteen.
The live chat exploded.