In this life, everything has a beginning and an end,” Rafael Nadal said near the start of his retirement announcement, which he released on video Thursday morning.

Leave it to Rafa to put a stoical spin on this somber moment. The 22-time Grand Slam champion has made himself into an all-time great sportsman over the last two decades, but for those of us who have watched, listened, marveled at and suffered with him during that time, he has also become a philosophy unto himself, a role model for how to approach and face up to life. He has taught us about the necessity and joy of making an effort, but he has also taught us about the necessity of understanding that there will be moments—many of them—when those efforts fall short.

After two years of doing whatever he could to heal his bad hip and return to the tour, the 38-year-old Spaniard came to grips with the fact that he wasn’t going to succeed. He said this had been a difficult period, and that he didn’t want to continue to “play with limitations.”

“I leave with the absolute peace of having given my best, of having made an effort in every way,” he said.

Before he goes for good, Nadal also said he’ll make one more appearance, playing for his country in the Davis Cup’s Final 8 at the end of November. In the same way that Laver Cup provided the proper send-off for Roger Federer two years ago, a Davis Cup finale in Malaga, Spain, feels fitting for Rafa. He has been part of four Cup-winning teams, and as he said in his announcement, it was in the 2004 Cup final in Spain when he first came to the world’s attention.

“I think I’ve come full circle, since one of my first great joys as a professional tennis player was the Davis Cup final in Seville in 2004,” Nadal said on Thursday.

2004: Was it really that long ago? In his win over Andy Roddick that day, the sleeveless 18-year-old gave us a first, fearless glimpse of what he would bring to tennis for the next 20 years. He was a new type of player, and performer, for a new century. What he added to the sport could be summed up in one word: Exuberance.

During rallies, Nadal went after—and caught up to—balls that no one had thought to try for before. Between points, he introduced us to the flying first-pumps and scratchy-throated cries of “Vamos!” that would become his trademarks. He celebrated breaking serve early in the first set the way players of the past had celebrated winning Grand Slam titles, with unbridled emotion. That expressiveness and intensity came as a shock to many of his early opponents, and some mocked him for it. But 20 years later it’s the norm, and what we expect to see from the pros.

Looking back to 2004, what may be more surprising is that this wild-haired, ultra-amped teen would also prove to be a man of wisdom and a model of maturity.

“I became a fan when I saw him at the Olympics in 2008 in Beijing,” Amy Tsao, a New Yorker who has traveled widely to see Rafa play, told me in 2020. “It was great to see this young character be so excited, chasing everything with this relentless tenacity.

“Now it’s great to see how much he has matured, the respect he shows to everyone, to see him go from this kid playing PlayStation to being a family man.”

At the same time, Nadal hasn’t changed. Beneath the tics and rituals, the celebratory shouts and clenched fists, there was a young man with an unwavering sense of himself. Nadal never moved away from his native island of Mallorca, or the extended family that surrounds and grounds him there. He stuck with the same approach to life that has worked so well for him since he was 17.

What is that approach, and what is its appeal? It can be summed up in a favorite word of Nadal’s: Accept. Accept reality. Accept that nothing will be perfect or easy and that struggle and imperfection and defeat are normal. Accept everything you’re called on to do to win. Only then can you truly live with defeat and move on.

“What you need is the right energy to accept every single thing, no?” he said during the pandemic-stricken tournaments of 2020 and 2021.

“If, if, if…doesn’t exist,” he said after losses, refusing to get bogged down in regret over a missed shot or bad decision.

He has taught us about the necessity and joy of making an effort, but he has also taught us about the necessity of understanding that there will be moments—many of them—when those efforts fall short.

And no one will ever forget Rafa’s exasperated explosion from 2019:

“What happen-ed in Monte Carlo happen-ed, what happen-ed in Barcelona happen-ed, what happen-ed in Madrid happen-ed,” he said  after losing at all three events. “And here we are. We are in Rome.”

It was a comical statement, but it also turned out to be a useful one. What many of forget is what happen-ed to Rafa at Roland Garros that year: He won.

For much of Nadal’s career, Roger Federer was the top role model for young players. But as the years progressed, Rafa drew his own share of devotees. Iga Swiatek, Andrey Rublev, Sebastian Korda, Casper Ruud and Daria Kasatkina, among others, were all youthful Rafa fanatics who modeled their approach to the sport after him.

Not that Nadal envisions himself as a hero, or a cut above the crowd.

“I’m a normal and common person,” he told El Espanol. “I don’t see myself as a role model of anything. I’m a guy who plays tennis well…I have tried to have the right attitude on and off the court, but I make mistakes like everyone else.”

For many of his fans, though, Rafa’s sense of commonness and fallibility is part of his charm. We can’t do what he does, but we can relate to his passion and desire and striving, which he revealed us in a way few tennis players had before on court. Nadal didn’t have a killer serve to rely on, and he wasn’t effortless the way Federer was. He made the effort obvious for all of us to see. Which meant we could live and die with him.

Nadal doesn’t see himself as a role model, but we all need to find strength where we can. I’ll miss his bolo-windup forehands and his boundless energy. But I’ll also miss seeing him step up to the service line after losing a point, bounce the ball slowly, go through his many twitches and tics, and block out the past and the future as he goes back to work. He never gave less than his best, and never sabotaged his chances with negativity or casualness. In that, he made it a little easier to believe you could get off the mat and do the same.

“In this life, everything has a beginning and an end,” Nadal said on Thursday. But the example that Rafa has set for us should be the exception. If he can be at “absolute peace” with what he’s done, we can, too.