BEYOND THE GREATNESS

People often say that when someone reaches the peak of their career, they find themselves standing alone. But how true is this? For some, perhaps. Yet there are legends, icons, and all-time greats—call them what you will—who have consistently shown that this isn't always the case. I have my four all-time favourite personalities, or rather, GREATS. I feel that they are more than their remarkable achievements, careers, or records. It is more about their personalities, their passion, and most importantly, the fact that "even if you are great, the greatest of all time, a legend, or a king of the world, it's okay to show emotions."

I’ve always admired men who don’t hide their emotions but instead let the world see how they truly feel at the moment. There are individuals who have repeatedly proven that showing emotions is not a sign of weakness—a notion many men around the world might disagree with. Throughout my life, I’ve seen men break down in tears without worrying about who might see them, whether they are behind closed doors or not. On the other hand, I’ve also seen men who are the complete opposite, believing that crying or showing emotions is a feminine act that men should avoid to appear strong. This belief is flawed.

Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Lewis Hamilton have shown time and again that it is OK TO CRY, and OK TO EXPRESS YOURSELF even in front of thousands of fans. It's okay to show that men have a softer side, it's okay to choke up while speaking to the media or fans, speak about mental struggles and it's okay to shut down and seek comfort during tough times. I have a poster of one of these men on my wall, not just because I consider them the Greatest of All Time for different reasons, but because they exemplify how to handle emotions on both good and bad days—even on the day one of them said goodbye.

Watching Roger Federer’s recent documentary about his retirement and his final match at the Laver Cup made me reflect on how such an iconic figure can be so emotional. He has everything he could want—fame, fans, 20 Grand Slams, a beautiful family. Though I’m more of a Nadal fan, I couldn’t help but shed tears alongside Federer when he returned to the court after an injury in 2017 and won the Australian Open against Nadal. That was an unforgettable moment when they were both waiting for the outcome of a challenge, and when the ball was called "In," Federer jumped for joy, already overwhelmed, and then tears of joy flowed from his eyes. Years later, at the 2022 Laver Cup, a different day and different scene, Nadal, Federer’s greatest rival, cried more than Federer after the last match. Despite just welcoming his first child at the same time, Nadal came when Federer asked him to be on his side for one last dance together. Many believe that they are best friends forever, so he joined his friend. Nadal, despite severe injuries always lurking throughout his career, continues to play tennis. We may not see him display emotions as frequently as Federer, but his spirit at this age, with 22 Grand Slams, Olympic gold medals, and all the fame, proves that the King of Clay can be both masculine and sensitive at the same time.

And when speaking of tennis, how could I forget Andy Murray? Yes, he may not have achieved the same fame as Federer, Nadal, or Djokovic, but he proved that where there’s a will, there’s a way. After a career-threatening hip injury, I saw him sobbing on TV during a press conference nearly five years ago, and people also said goodbyes. But his love for tennis wouldn’t let him stop. He fought back, and this year, he finally said goodbye to the sport he loved. At Wimbledon, during his speech, he didn’t hold back his tears, and the spectators’ applause echoed their admiration for his unyielding spirit.

This isn’t just something I’ve witnessed in tennis; I’ve seen it in football too. Take Cristiano Ronaldo, for example. There are countless opinions about him, but to me, he’s one of those intensely aggressive yet emotionally charged individuals who can teach others how to navigate life even under dark clouds, while surrounded by vultures and trolls. I’m not here to weigh in on the Messi vs Ronaldo debate; this isn’t about records, trophies, or achievements. I’ve followed Ronaldo since his Real Madrid days and in World Cups, seen his interviews, fan interactions, philanthropic work, and moments of vulnerability on and off the field. The day I cried with him was during the 2016 Euro Finals. Many dismissed those scenes as "drama" or "attention-seeking," but really? Ronaldo may seem tough and sometimes selfish on the pitch, but that’s part of who he has become and how. But they don’t define him as a human. The way he expresses himself, on and off the pitch, speaks volumes about his mentality. He’s the man who cried on camera because his father wasn’t there to witness his success. He’s the man who took time off to grieve the loss of his child. How can such a man be labelled as merely mean, super masculine, or aggressive? His emotions, shown time and again for the game, his clubs, or his family, reveal the kind heart behind the iron body.

Taking time off to cope with pain... I saw that too, somewhere else, another time, another sport, another remarkable human being—Lewis Hamilton. The year 2021 was a turning point in his sport and I saw a different Hamilton at the end of the Abu Dhabi 2021 race. However, like many fans, I also started noticing a different characteristic in him during the COVID outbreak. It was like with great power comes great responsibility, and Hamilton knew that. He used his platform to speak out against racism and advocate for a more inclusive atmosphere in the sport. But at the end of that season, something shocking happened. I remember seeing this 7-time world champion sitting in his car, engine off, in shock, unable to process what had just occurred on the last lap. His father later hugged him. But we don't know what he told Lewis after he got out of the car and reached out to his father. But Anthony Hamilton knew he had raised a strong, compassionate champion. Lewis didn’t react with anger or aggression, despite the circumstances. He was numb and shattered, like many fans. At that moment, I knew this man was broken, and I was right. After the season ended, Lewis disappeared from the public eye, and it became clear he was in deep pain. I worried he might leave the sport, but thankfully, he didn’t. He later admitted that those were dark days, and he even considered walking away. Since 2021, Mercedes’ performance has declined, yet Hamilton persevered, fighting with whatever strength he had accumulated post-2021 disaster. People questioned whether he was done, but he chose to continue, driven by his hunger for the sport and his “kill with kindness” attitude. Hamilton conquered his demons with kindness, emerging mentally stronger and saying no to "I am Done". He knows something is due, and he deserves it sooner or later. He now speaks more clearly and with compassion about his struggles, and mental wellbeing. Is this a sign of weakness? Absolutely not.  

The moral of this story is simple: It's entirely okay to express yourself and be genuine. Crying doesn’t make you weak; it makes you a human being.