There was a collective sigh among the Barcelona faithful when Albert Ramos concocted a series of devastating forehands to capture an early break over Rafael Nadal. (Never mind that Ramos too represented Spain and was a Barcelonista by birth.) A false alarm it was. Mere moments later, the break was returned and the panic abated.

But rarely was Nadal’s first match at the ATP 500 tournament in Barcelona comfortable. On paper, there appear few lighter challenges in tennis for the world No. 1 than a largely anonymous countryman who is ranked outside the top 100 and is also a left-hander. Even in the face of this seemingly paltry challenge, the champion relished little. Errors flowed:  forehands and backhands long, wide and dumped into the net.

Nadal’s hesitation galvanized the lesser Spaniard into action. Forehand that Ramos wouldn't dare to attempt in the first round of the Cordenons Challenger event were suddenly flowing. Whenever the match because too tight and threatened to provide genuine competition, though, errors would flow from the racquet of Ramos and leave Nadal at an arm’s length. Three errors in succession, out of nowhere, sealed the second set and match for the world No. 1. Enough was enough, and it appeared that Ramos agreed.

Just before, a double bill of the Barcelona main cast were hustled out of the city. First came David Ferrer, who met his messy end first. Ferrer’s early opening at 4-4 15-40 did not foreshadow what was to follow. A blink later, in an avalanche of unrelenting ball-bashing by Teymuraz Gabashvili, he was staring down the barrel of a stunning straight-set loss.

Rarely is the grandest stadium the best. The best stadium of any complex is the one that offers spectators seats so close that they can practically lean over the edge and kiss the red clay. Such closeness allows the special privilege of staring into the eyes of the players, seeing what they see. This distinction is true of Court 1 in Barcelona. As Pista Central played host to Ferrer’s upset, this court showcased third seed Fabio Fognini.

Such a court is deserving of classic, endless matches. Instead, it received a match that, 10 games later, was kaput. At the final count, not one of those games would fall in the direction of Fognini. 6-0 4-0 was the score when Fognini finally pulled a ripcord, but it was finished long before that.

Barely a handful of games into the match, the big question had veered from who would win this battle to how many games it would take until Fognini threw in the towel.  Somewhere between this, Fognini rallied out the trainer and slipped down a few pills. After the first-setbagel was completed, half of his break was spent in a crouch. Silence spread like a wildfire for the majority of the contest and stole away any fight that may have existed otherwise. The spell was broken only once as, upon Fognini’s retirement, whistles circulated around the stadium.

This response to Fognini's antics came just a week after a spectacular implosion that witnessed him tossing expletives and foul words to all surrounding him. The Italian offered his defenders little help when he suggested that his retirement was less about any specific injury or illness and more the result of tiredness. However, tennis has seen a strange obsession with medical timeouts and withdrawals in recent years. While poor gamesmanship rears its head more often than seemingly ever before, it isn't always the case.