Alcaraz’s Grass-Fire Streak: Third Straight Trophy Ignites the Road to Wimbledon

The Queen’s Club has welcomed many a duke, but this Sunday a young hidalgo from Murcia sliced its air for the second time, chaining triumphs—Rome, Roland-Garros, London-on-Thames—as casually as a child clicks marbles. Forty-two victories on the year, eighteen in a row; Carlos Alcaraz stacks success with the nonchalance of counting clouds.

First set – engine humming

Across the net, Czech battering-ram Jiri Lehecka tried to rattle the chassis. At 5-4, 0-30, the crowd caught a whiff of trouble; Alcaraz shifted gears: ace, forehand cannon, two service winners. A break and a spotless hold later, the set lay flat at 7-5.

Second set – Czech reprisal

Lehecka, spelunker of painted lines, refused the script. Serves whistled to 4-4; at 6-5 he botched “the one-metre forehand” that haunts midnight ceilings. The tiebreak became his sedative. Alcaraz, down 4-2, conjured a fairy-tale pickup on a drop shot, lobbed the follow-up, then double-faulted at 5-5—gift, set, 7-6 (5).

Third set – closing argument

Any wobble was mirage. The Spaniard pounced to 3-1 and never looked back: 94 % first serves, 87 % points won behind them, not a single break point faced. Eighteen aces—his best in a two-set sprint—cracked the sky like summer firecrackers. 6-2, handshake, grass once more subdued: 29 wins in 32 lawn skirmishes, a dizzying 90 % clip.

Wimbledon on the horizon

Since April he has left a court beaten only once, under Rune’s hammer in Barcelona. On grass he has never lost a final; Centre Court is polishing the silver. Favourite? More than an adjective—an established fact. The Murcian youth heads into July like d’Artagnan at court: blade honed, boots light, convinced that “after me, the deluge” is merely a forecast for fine weather.