In a relaxed atmosphere and pure camaraderie, Fede Chingotto (Olavarría, 29) talked about all the issues surrounding the professional Premier Padel circuit. In the VeinteDiez Padel video podcast, the drive that makes up the number two couple in the world together with Alejandro Galán launched a proposal that is as simple as it is disruptive: completely eliminate the figure of the “seeds” in tournament draws.
What began as a relaxed chat among colleagues quickly transformed into a deep analysis of how to give an emotional twist and an unprecedented level of expectation to each competition.
The draws, without standing: “Everyone in the same bag”
His idea defends a pure draw, without pre-classified players who enjoy privileges or more accessible tables due to their position in the ranking.. “Direct bag, everyone in the bag,” said the Olavarría player, arguing that this modality would democratize opportunities from minute zero.
The current seeding system protects the best ranked teams from meeting each other in the first rounds, guaranteeing (in theory) that the strongest duels occur in the final stages. However, “El Ratón” believes that breaking this rule would give the circuit a necessary freshness and morbidity.
The proposal launched on the table appeals directly to the heart of the sporting spectacle: unpredictability. Although for ranking purists it may sound crazy to subject the effort of an entire season to the fate of a “direct bag”, it is undeniable that a tournament where the favorites can fall in the first round or cross immediately would keep the public on the edge of their seats from day one.
“We are all crazy”: The mentality behind the elite player
The debate over the format of the tournaments gave way to a more intimate and revealing reflection by Chingotto on the competitive mentality at the highest level. Responding to the question of what this “madness” that characterizes them means, the Argentine was blunt: “At the eastern level, for me, we are all crazy. I’m crazy too, I go crazy competing.”
This madness, according to Chingotto, is not about erratic behavior, but about an absolute obsession with continuous improvement. “The obsession with winning, the obsession with training and improving,” he emphasized. And to illustrate this difference with an amateur player, he used a revealing example from his own routine: “I go and out of 60 vipers I want to put 59 wherever I want, and I’m crazy about that, and I get desperate if I don’t put four.”
That meticulous obsession with technical perfection transforms into overflowing intensity once he hits the court. Far from the image of a “good guy” and calm that he projects off the court, Chingotto confessed that during a match his competitive instinct takes control: “I enter the court and I want to kill the one I have crossed… and I’m not going to lose, he’s not going to beat me.”
The obsession with analysis and admiration for his rivals
Chingotto’s obsession is not limited to his own training, but extends to exhaustive analysis of the circuit. “I am a sick person, I like to watch it (paddle tennis) and I like to observe everything and learn from others,” he confessed.
But this analytical facet also leads him to confront the overwhelming reality of other people’s talent. Chingotto related that, after a defeat in Cancún, he dedicated himself to carefully observing Juan “El Lobo” Lebron’s games. “The ease with which he takes shots… I say ‘it’s impossible,'” he admitted in amazement. The sincerity of the “Mouse” reached the point of confessing the psychological impact that seeing that level on television generates on him: “Looking at him I say: ‘It’s impossible for me to play against these weak guys, I can’t beat them at all.'”
This vulnerability, shared at a table where Lebron’s unusual agility, elasticity and physical ability to solve impossible plays were also praised, demonstrates that behind Chingotto’s fierce competitive mentality there is a deep respect for his colleagues and a constant ability to be amazed by the evolution of his own sport.
