Nalbandian al natural

I'm back from Vienna and here it is, the latest article about David from La Nacion. Complete with lots of new photos and the video above (thanks Tamar and tennisace). I'll admit that I find it a bit funny how the author of this article keeps claiming that he's the first journalist David has allowed to visit him in his hometown when we've already had articles like this one before and especially from La Nacion. Anyway, here it is. The title is easy enough to understand in Spanish: Nalbandian al natural...

By Maximiliano Boso
Standing, David Nalbandian chats with one of the local boys at the Mumú Mamá, the bar he bought last summer and which still maintains the appearance of what it used to be, one of the biggest gas stations in Unquillo. He breaks off the conversation when he sees the figure of a woman, walking calmly down the Avenida San Martin. "What are you doing, mom, everything okay? Where are you going?". Shortly afterwards, Alda says goodbye to her son but not without warning him, "Don't act so crazy, eh!" She walks on to do some shopping.



"Unquillo hasn't changed in 40 years," Nalbandian thinks aloud. This corner of the Sierras Chicas, 24 kilometres from Córdoba city, is connected to Villa Allende, Mendiolaza and Rio Ceballos by the main artery of the Avenida San Martin, and it continues to look much like it always has. Just like back in the days when grandfather Nalbandian's book shop was across the street, here on the Avenida San Martin, and he was "the people's photographer."
Founded early in the last century as a vacation site for wealthy families, this is where the sculptor Lino Enea Spilimbergo still has his modest houses, along with all the necessary shops and businesses, friends and family. Limited hours, where the siesta is nonnegotiable and the barbecue a ritual. Here, David Nalbandian is not a tennis player, nor a Masters [Cup] champion, and here he never was one of the three best players on the planet, someone who could keep up with giants like Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. Here, he is the Gringo or David, one of them. Here, he is the son of Norberto (his father, who died in late 2004) and Alda, who you can see crossing the street just after breakfast. He's the younger brother of Javier and Dario. Vicky's boyfriend. Here, he comes to discharge energy when the electricity of the circuit gives him the creeps. Here he found refuge during the last months when hip surgery sidelined him from the sport to which he will return next month. Here he is happy. "The whole recovery program is going as planned. I followed all the steps and I feel better every day. The training sessions are getting more intensive," he says and seems eager to return to the court.



It is not easy to pervade the privacy of an elite athlete like Nalbandian. Individual sport and the company that goes with it give you the feeling that the tennis circuit is a meat grinder. It creates impervious personalities. Therefore, this is the first time that this man from Unquillo opens the doors to his life for a journalist.
Though he is a thrill seeker, here, Nalbandian doesn't do anything like swimming with sharks or bungee jumping. Even though he tried driving rally cars, another one of his passions, perhaps the second one after tennis. "This place means everything to me. Here I was born, raised, it's where I live and where I always return to. Here I am normal, one of them. I have my friends, I live very quietly, here's where I feel comfortable, where my family is, the things I love, my brothers, my girlfriend, my mom, my friends. Where they all are. Being here gives you another rhythm of life. It doesn't matter whether there's football, whether we're having a beer at the bar or get together to eat. But it's not like I just lie on my back all day, I can't stand it."



The bar is the starting point on the trail of discovering the other side of a professional tennis player. A meeting place anytime of the day, for meeting anyone, but especially his friends, like "Gordo" Bernasconi, a guy who if he didn't own the pizza joint "13" a hundred metres from the house where David lives with his mother, he'd probably abandon his tables to become a comedian, he's simply unstoppable. But Gordo also has a special function when Nalbandian plays Davis Cup. He's the leader of the fan group with the drum. Therefore, at the bar of the Mumú Mamá there hangs a photo of all those who travelled to Moscow for the 2006 Davis Cup final that Argentina lost to Russia.



Passionate about brands, Nalbandian enjoys driving his special favourite, a white BMW X6, a tank, something like a car with the dimensions of a smaller truck. On the road to Villa Allende, where he trains, he passes the Colegio Nuestra Señora de las Mercedes [his former school], where he never finished his studies for the sake of playing tennis, something he doesn't plan to return to. "That's over."



A long way away from the days when she played on the women's tour with Gabriela Sabatini, Ines Gorrochategui, owner of the club, greets him as usual. Distracted, David walks up to the bar and asks, "Do you know where my racquet is?" On the court he is expected by one of his brothers. Javier, the eldest, who was his coach at some stages of his career (nowadays it's Luis Lobo), or Dario, also a coach, but above all the one who turned David into a Bon Jovi fanatic.
"Dario lives behind my house, 50 metres away. He has a family and two children. Javier did a lot of coaching when I was a boy. He lives in Rio Ceballos, is married and has two children. I live with my mom." He laughs as if it's an insult. David turns 28 on January 1.
But then he picks up the theme of his relationship with his brothers again. "They helped me a lot in the beginning. Javier is very focused on training, he loves tennis. And Dario, he's more like an accountant. Seeing him there are more questions. The three of us, we are all very different. I've had good times and bad times with my brothers. They are much older than me. Javier ten years and Dario seven. When you're a kid that's a big difference. Sometimes it's good for you, because they take care of you like they're your dad . But there are other things you don't share. With Javier there were times when all was well and others when we fought because he was my coach," David says, after playing ball with Matías, a kid of 14, who breaks out in a sweat just from seeing him.
Nalbandian also misses playing golf, he can't currently practice because of his hip problem. He talks about it as he walks past the gates of the Córdoba Golf Club in Villa Allende, where a huge image of his friend Pato Cabrera greets him, across the street from a small commercial complex owned by Gato Romero, another well-known golfer from Cordoba.
Back in Unquillo, Nalbandian slows down in the middle of the street and honks at the door of the butcher's shop of Dario Torres, nephew of football referee Hector Baldassi from Rio Ceballos. He talks to him, leaning out the window. The subject is horses, a passion which during the last few months has seen Nalbandian in constant contact with his friend, the polo player Adolfito Cambiaso. As a boy, Nalbandian also rode horses, amongst other sports, and he calls himself a "restless ass". Just a few metres further down the road, on a corner, is the bar El Trebol, out of which emerges a dark-haired boy with tousled hair who shouts something unintelligible. "It's like this every day, and today is Monday?" said Nalbandian, laughing heartily.
"Come to my place for dinner and we'll talk," David invites a friend, who asks, "Are you going to cook?" "Cook? And why do I still live with my mom?" Nalbandian replies offhandedly. His home is the only place that is absolutely sacred to Nalbandian. No way of getting in there. Alda treats him just like she did when he was still a child, she makes his bed, prepares the food, pampers him, takes care of him. Norberto was the only one here who set boundaries for a boy who never obeyed.
"My mom is a phenomenon. When I'm here I try to eat with her. 'Empanadas árabes infernales' and also 'kepi', an Armenian dish. Every afternoon she calls me or sends me text messages, asking, hey, what are you doing tonight? Then I send her off to play cards with a group of friends. She's like me, she doesn't want to stay home all day. She's preparing to go on a trip to Machu Picchu. She's a little tired now because she had three boys and it was not easy. For example, I don't make my bed, I don't do anything. At best, I make a café latte, because I like whipping the coffee. I don't do the dishes, I don't cook. Because I don't know how. I swear I don't know. Maybe when I retire I'll take a little course. Meanwhile, I told Vicky to learn from my mom."
Near the bus station are the two hard courts built by his father, Norberto, and other cousins and friends for playing with and against each other. They are now abandoned. The small pavilion is busy. The lots were sold long ago. Some kids play ball. Here's where the tennis player David Nalbandian was born, who now wants to buy the land and rebuild the courts for his brothers to give lessons and also for the people to use them.
"My dad was a guy who set boundaries. My mom let me get away with more. I think, as far as I remember, he was a virtuous man who tried to give the best he had or could to his children. In that sense, I was very well educated, with principles. That I'll always be grateful for because it was very important in my childhood to have someone telling me this is okay and this is not okay. Though sometimes, not even he could stop me because of my personality. But he was the one most listened to and respected. In exchange for his efforts to help me, all he ever asked of me was to arrive as well-prepared as possible."



The bar is again the meeting point for football and a barbecue every Monday night as the tennis player is just leaving the village. David calls a little boy with stunningly clear eyes who's doing pirouettes on the street. It's Pedrito, the butcher's son. The mother leaves him and walks on. Nalbandian buys an ice cream, sits down beside him. He has a soft spot for the boy.
Gradually, the friends are coming together. "El Turco" Antún, who is a car dealer and supplies the cars whenever Nalbandian travels to Buenos Aires, Gordo Bernasconi, Hernan Biasotto, the Arabian Fabian Farah, who works on the field, and his brother, Gaby Farah.

"Are there times when you want to be alone?"
"Sometimes yes. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes I try. Being alone is good because you think and make plans in peace, without having to discuss anything with anyone. But it's not something I do all the time. Well, when I've lost, I sometimes like to stay in a room just for a couple of hours but it doesn't happen all the time. A defeat has to hurt a lot for me to stay in my room for two hours, being pissed off. I love being active. There are not many times when I'm alone."
David analyzes his future here where he was born and which will also be his destination when he eventually agrees to move in with Victoria Bosch, his girlfriend of 11 years. In addition to having a football pitch, he'll have a tennis court, a house on top of one of the three hills that surround the place, another house for guests, a pool, a polo field, a barbecue area and a farm. "At 60, I will still be living here, quietly, but doing things. A day or two I'll spend staring at the sunset, after that I need to do something," he says.
Despite Vicky's insistence, she lives with her parents in Rio Ceballos and has a shop in Córdoba, David still manages to squirm out of this. "Eleven years is an important number. She always goes back home to sleep and tries to arrange her work so that she can accompany me on some of my trips. About marrying, I have cured her of her fears. What she wants now is that we move in together. It's a tug of war. I'm making preparations for us to move here."
Being together for 11 years seems utopian in these days where footbal and also tennis players have their groupies. "I know it's not easy, but you get used to other people saying all kinds of things. Luckily I've come to understand that and I can handle it. It's not the easiest part of the relationship. It's not the same now it was when we were 20, but we get along well. She's very relaxedl. We can talk about anything. We discuss a thousand different things, like any other couple. We talk about our plans for life but she respects my schedule, my job."
The barbecue, which gets repeated on Thursdays at noon (without football) comes to an end after a long meal, complete with the typical jokes of an all-male get-together where the meat is served with bread and eaten by hand. Wine with Coca-Cola ("if you drink this you die alone") is prepared by "La Rata" and everyone pays their 15 pesos, including Nalbandian. It's time to go looking for Vicky now, who's at her parents, in order to have a siesta at the house where David lives with his mother. For Vicky, this time is precious. Having him around is far from normal. "I told her if we'll get through these six months without fighting, we'll stay together. These six months (the injury pause) are what my life will be like after I retire. I'll be mostly here but I'll also go to Buenos Aires, I'll travel, ski, watch the matches of the national [football] team with my friends, play polo with Adolfito. I see myself doing thousands of things with her, going to the movies in Cordoba, or enjoying a good meal, like now."

Del Potro and the Davis Cup
Juan Martin del Potro recently achieved what David Nalbandian failed to achieve repeatedly and what still remains to be one of his biggest goals - winning a Grand Slam. As the US Open champion, Del Potro got all the praise, even from someone who still has his differences with Delpo's father and with his coach Franco Davin, differences which were exposed during the painful defeat in the Davis Cup final against Spain at Mar del Plata.
"What Del Potro did was spectacular. It's not easy to win a Grand Slam. I watched the final on TV and it always makes you a little nervous. He showed that he's playing at a high level because you have to have a lot of confidence to beat Federer the way he beat him. I hope for him that he'll be able to maintain it over time. He's young and has a lot to give," says Nalbandian, who after two failed attempts, also has this one supreme dream: to win the Davis Cup.
"His success is important for those kids who can see themselves in us. And may also serve as an impulse for winning the Davis Cup."



Politics and the country
Last year, David Nalbandian launched a charitable foundation that bears his name and to which he tried to dedicate more of his time while being in Argentina. "It developed from the need of the people, someone asks you, then another one asks you and it was all very disorganized. That led to me, trying to do my best to help because it is difficult to say yes to someone and no to someone else. I think that there are many ways the state can't do it alone and requires assistance, instruments, infrastructure, many things that we try to help with, with the foundation. We are at a difficult point in time because of the economic crisis. But this happens everywhere in the world now."
Nalbandian says he doesn't like politics but that he tries to stay informed. He has no ideology in that sense. "It's a complicated matter. I don't see myself as a politician, it makes you age 1000 years in the course of 4. But never say never," says Nalbandian, who appeared in an ad for Cristina Kirchner's presidential campaign. "Yes, I did that because I was asked to do it. You cannot say no to the President (then Néstor Kirchner). But I'm not a radical, or a Peronist, or anything. I believe in those people who want to do things right. The goal is to act in concert. I don't think that who's in charge today should destroy what has been done before. That's what happens here and in other countries it's very different. Argentina is a very rich country, but we've never finished exploiting it for one reason or another. And it won't be easy," says Nalbandian, a big fan of Australia, who believes that Argentina can still become more like this model.





The eagerly awaited return
Nalbandian's return will take place at the exhibition tournament which will be held at the stadium Aldo Cantoni, San Juan, December 12 and 13, where Gaston Gaudio, Guillermo Cañas and Nicolas Massu will also play. Nalbandian's last match was on May 4 at Estoril, where he lost to Chile's Paul Capdeville in the first round.
"I look forward to it, not to the nerves that come with playing, but because how much I long to return to the court. After so many months, you want to be back there. Anyway, I know I have to go little by little, without making myself crazy, because it is not an easy injury."

His relationship with the press
Journalism was never one of Nalbandian's favourite things. Instead, he has always regarded talking to the media as an obligation. "I'm quite difficult, in terms of character, personality, temperament, however you want to put it."
He explains why he disagrees with some of the opinions [about him]. "To be inside the Top Ten for four or five years, to win a Masters [Cup], to be a finalist at Wimbledon, that's not something that just happens. You don't do this kind of thing, sitting at home, watching videos or having a barbecue in Unquillo. What this is about is that I need these things. To come here, to have fun. And a lot of people don't understand this."
"Sometimes, it happens with the people, as well. I'm a normal guy and I want to be left in peace. And journalists, they think that you have to meet them when they want, at whatever time they want and as often as they want. And sometimes I want to be left in peace just as you would want to, being at your home. That shocked a lot of them. And because of that they'll never stop trying to find out who I really am. I think that journalists are never satisfied with one sentence. It is difficult to make everybody happy."

Meanwhile, a news item has appeared on the official site, claiming that David has tentatively set a date for retiring from tennis - when he's 30. I'll just quote the English version here:

"King" David has set a date: he says he thinks of withdrawing from competition after his 30th birthday. There are still two more years to go since he will be 28 next January 1st. His idea is to go on playing a couple of years more and try to achieve his greatest dream: the Davis Cup. "In this stage, I will see how I am year after year. And it depends a lot on how my hip is, if I feel well and competitive", he said. The player from Cordoba said: "If I start feeling limitations, I will have to reconsider the situation."

This doesn't sound like anything has really been decided yet. But it also sounds like David wants to go and see how well he's able to play after surgery. And if he's not able to play all that well... Who knows what will happen.