Nadal vs. Marlo

So Nadal, erupting from Gumby's clay womb, goes like 179-0 on clay and plays Street Fighter IV on X-Box. Fair enough. But were he even to think about being a true Fantasy, let him step to Marlo and see what happens.

Koko: Very well, Nadal considers the challenge:

But where is Marlo? Does he hide behind a building, his long fingers steepled, an urban Mr. Burns lost and despondent without his Smithers?

Does he flee in fear, hoping to ride out the Iberian storm as an anonymous desert veteran, free from street corners and steely-armed nemeses?

Wherever he is, he's doomed. He has a "season"; his secret is known.