California Dreamin’ in 41 Carats

Novak Djokovic parked his luggage before eternity the way one leans a bicycle against Notre-Dame: a last kiss for Roland-Garros’s red clay, a sigh—“It was perhaps my last match here.” The press, a flock of sparrows, heard the call of dusk. Wrong horizon: the Serb’s gaze reaches farther, to where the Pacific already laps the Olympic courts of 2028.