Concluding Goran

The Goran Ivanišević Cycle (Part 3 of 3)

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They sat around the campfire, mottled faces glowing orange in the flickering light.

“A thousand years ago,” the Elder began, “Ivanisevic lived on this earth.”

The others began to mutter at this blasphemy, but the Elder silenced them with a look.

“Ivanisevic was a man — a great man, some said — but a man nonetheless.”

“But Elder,” one of the bolder men said. “What about the stories? Where Ivanisevic tamed the Sampras with his Talisman? Where Ivanisevic fired a thunderbolt and destroyed the Rafter?”

The Elder laughed. “They are fine stories, but only stories. The truth is much less grand.”

“I heard that Ivanisevic once used his Talisman to launch a golden apple to the moon,” a young girl said.

The Elder sighed. No matter how often he tried, he could never convince them. They had their stories of Ivanisevic, worshipped his prowess, and nothing could shake their faith.

The Elder left them there around the fire, left them telling each other stories of Ivanisevic and his Talisman, stories that became bolder and more outrageous each time.

He wandered out among the jagged pillars of a civilisation lost. The stars above looked the same as a thousand years ago when he had held up the Wimbledon Cup.

If only he did have the power to strike a tennis ball to the moon, like the girl had said, perhaps he'd be able to change the world. Instead, his only power was that he could never die, and he didn't know why.

“What do you want from me?” he screamed at the sky.

Footnote: One theory is that Goran Ivanisevic absorbed the spiritual life-force of all those he defeated on the tennis court, feasting, if you will, on their beaten spiritual carcasses, thus extending his lifespan far beyond that of a normal man.