Defending champion is essentially a magic-eye puzzle you can read any way you want but has the inconsistency all but one of his rivals would dream of

There were negatives, of course. Shall we focus on the negatives? Shall we dwell on the frailties a little? The uncharacteristic errors, the double faults, an occasional scruffiness at the net, the frequent slumps in intensity? Shall we marvel at the fact that the lowest-ranked player in the tournament earned more break points (11) than one of the greatest players of his generation (10)? Shall we warn, in a tone of affected sternness, that the defending champion will have to raise his game on this evidence?

Of course we shall, because this is Carlos Alcaraz, and because there is an entire cottage industry built around maintaining the idea that Alcaraz is in a state of crisis at all times, a state of crisis so acute that it is necessary to feign round-the-clock concern for him. We just want to see all that rich talent fulfilled. That’s all it is. Sincerely and genuinely. And definitely not a weirdly prurient interest in his holidays to Ibiza, or whether him and Emma Raducanu are, you know. Just the talent. Thinking of the talent here.