With one stroke of the ball, Gawain turned the situation around.
With a flick of the ball, Djokovic had the upper hand.
You come and go, the bayonets see red and the strong collision breaks out an incredible chemical reaction.
and!
This was already the tenth game of the final set. After more than four hours of fierce confrontation, the two players still produced such top-notch and miraculous performances.
It is so exciting that it explodes the brain, as if thousands of galloping horses are roaring through the head.
Then.
In a hurry, Gawain also took a ball.
A forehand pull, trying to wrap the tennis ball and push it into the deep area, but——
Oops!
First of all, playing in front of Djokovic is not like playing tricks in front of Guan Gong? Obviously, the quality of Gao Wen's playing cannot be compared with that of his opponent.
Secondly, Djokovic knows the texture of the ball very well. The moment he noticed Gawain playing the ball, he responded conditioned reflex.
Push off the ground, step forward, and cut to the baseline.
Without warning and unplanned, Djokovic went online. It was obvious at a glance that this was a shot of the ball that was adapted to change the situation.
Djokovic noticed that Gawain was trying to slow down the pace and rearrange the ball, but he had established enough advantages and naturally refused to give up.
So, without hesitation, Djokovic chose to go to the net, caught Gawain's high parabola, and quickly moved closer.
Without waiting for the tennis ball to hit the ground, he turned sideways and used his backhand, releasing force, backspin, and volleying, and then directly pushed the tennis ball back against the wall again.
Short term! Small ball!
Huh!
Exclaimed, one piece.
The rhythm is always changing. First, Djokovic tries to compress the rhythm, then Gawain tries to shorten the connection, and then Djokovic speeds up.
The game and tug-of-war filled the whole scene with tension, ups and downs, and dramatic changes comparable to the face-changing in Sichuan Opera, leaving no breathing space at all.
The tennis ball is flying, rolling in a piece of golden sunshine.
On one side, Djokovic turned his back to the net, spread his wings, and completed a cool volley with a one-handed backhand.
On one side, Gawain made an emergency stop and turned, then started twice and three times, completing the turn amid a flurry of chaos.
Kick off the ground, start, and rush forward.
tread.
Tap tap tap!
His chest was heaving, his muscles were burning, and a bloody smell surged deep in his throat. He couldn't swallow it or spit it out, and his body felt like it was about to fall apart.
Although he was running, he could no longer feel his feet; he continued to push hard, but his knees were as soft as noodles and could not be straightened up.
This is not the peak of physical fitness - that has already passed. It is purely the emptiness after the high-intensity confrontation in the final set, and the fuel tank is almost empty.
However, Gawain didn't notice it at all.
Concentrate, single-mindedly, with condensed eyes and firm will, just... running, relying only on a willpower to support myself.
Kick off, sprint, run faster and faster, run faster and faster, but it's still not enough.
Djokovic's offloading was very good, maybe not perfect, but it was enough. He cut a short ball. At a glance, you can tell that there is not much power on the tennis ball, and the rebound height after landing is also limited.
, which also means that there is not much room for Gawain to hit the ball.
While running and watching, Gawain watched helplessly as the tennis ball bounced off the ground and fell again, just like a door slowly closing.
So close, yet so far away.
Right leg, one kick.
Left leg, sliding.
Slide step.
Gawain just glided out abruptly, spreading his legs apart, holding the racket in both hands and extending it forward, and then extended it to the extreme.
He glanced at Djokovic's position out of the corner of his eye, and the three-dimensional image of the entire court space slowly unfolded in his mind.
Close.
Closer.
Well.
There was a muffled groan deep in the Dantian, but at this moment, he was so absorbed in a state that he was completely unaware of it, and the only thing he could see was the stadium in front of him.
Closer.
Then, it touched.
The racket is gently picked and touched, soft and delicate, like the March breeze blowing in the face, carrying green and sunshine, and the moist water vapor also refreshes the spirit, and the corners of the mouth can't help but rise slightly.
The tennis ball flew out.
Cross the net, keep climbing, and fly.
On the other side, you can see a figure leaping to the top, rising into the air, arms spread out, racket extended, completely freed from the constraints of gravity.
That, is Djokovic.
Huh!
Touch... touch. Djokovic's second start of sudden stop and turn was like flying like a swordfish, and he miraculously touched the tennis ball.
However, Djokovic no longer had the strength to support him, and was unable to exert force at all. He could only straighten his arms to intercept, relying on the reaction force of the tennis ball to pull it into flight, and then flew towards the other side of the court again. What route?
No matter where it lands, the arc is completely out of control.
Huh!
I saw that on the other side of the court, Gawain had already done the splits and was unable to stand up at all, but he was still focused and not distracted at all.
He raised the racket reflexively, tilted his upper body back to get out of the way, and awkwardly and stiffly used his wrists to slam it forward, just like playing badminton, blocking and blocking.
clang.
The tennis ball hits the wall head-on, encounters a block, and spins in flight.
Before he could fly back, he had already returned the same way. In every breath, the tennis ball had broken through Djokovic's blockade.
Keep flying and embrace the world.
Rustling and vigorous, millions of eyes focused on this tennis ball, following it as it flew, landed, took root, and bloomed proudly.
Score--
Belongs to Gawain.
"40:AD".
However, there was no sound at Arthur Ashe Stadium, no sound at all, silence, not even the breeze or the heat wave.
No one dares to believe their eyes, what just happened?
Looking at the court again, I saw Gawain falling to the ground, Djokovic rolling around as a lazy ass, and the tennis ball rolling out alone. The orange sunlight was pouring down from the sky, and I was amazed by everything in front of me.
Wrapped in a hazy and gorgeous halo, it is so beautiful that it takes your breath away.
Quiet, turbulent, like an oil painting.
It slowed down for a full second, as if a century had passed. Then, my brain was in a roar, and my heart began to cheer and shout with excitement.
However, when the mind is completely invisible and the mind is blank, it is just a ruthless screaming machine. This is the only way to avoid brain explosion.
One sound, one sound, and another sound.
Whether it is Gawain or Djokovic, they have burned all their energy and pushed each other to the extreme. Can this game be more exciting?
It seems like a lifetime ago that Djokovic held three consecutive points. Before he could blink, Djokovic now had to face a break point. The Arthur Ashe Stadium was completely crazy and rolling.
The heat wave spread across the board, and even the setting sun was eclipsed.
So, what’s next?
Now, Djokovic is facing a crisis, how will he respond?
Wait, when was the last time Gauvin broke Djokovic's serve?
The memory is actually a little blurry, it even seems like it happened yesterday, but what about this time?
Shhh.
Without the referee's reminder, the audience spontaneously asked everyone to be quiet, not because they were worried about ruining Yukovic's serving rhythm, but because they were worried about missing out on the excitement.