It means ghost in Niketennis language. Like a ghost, these are rarely seen, but one major difference is that the GHOATs are far scarier in person. These things wield truly awesome power, and if used correctly, could bring an end to the world as we know it. Case in point: Wimbly 2010. John Isner wins longest ever match finishing 70-68 in the fifth, and Tomas Berdych defeats the GOAT. Take a guess at what hats they were wearing.
Ever since the rumors of Milos going to GSWCOAT Nikke, I've been having nightmares about the inevitable melding of the two greatest forces in the universe if FutureGOAT (FGOAT) Raonic was to get hold of one. It would be like Arthur pulling the sword from the stone in terms of epicness. Just imagine:
Beaverton, Oregon
Rain beat furiously at the glass as lightning cut the sky with a flash. The storm brewed outside as baby faced 21 year old Milosh contemplated the past year. It had been good - 4th round of the Australian Open, 3rd round French Open, Semis of the US Open, and the best result by far, Wimbledon Runner up. Now at a career high ranking of 9, the young man could almost feel destiny bringing him closer to the sweet bosom of a slam win. His peers still had a long way to go before they would catch him, and now he was snapping at the heels of the big guns. Dreams of slam glory would soon become a reality, and all those years spent training high in the mountains with the legendary PetrosGOAT would finally pay off. But there was still one final step to take before starting along the path to GOATdom. He turned to face the men sitting behind him - they stood in an attempt to better hear the giant's voice.
"Gentlemen, we meet today in an attempt to come to some sort of agreement, yes?"
The suits nodded and stuttered their approval - for many of them this was the first time they had met the boy, and understandably the GOATness of him was intimidating.
CEO Mark Parker spoke,
"Milosh, we're so happy you've decided to come to us first. We've been admirers of you for quite some time, and we believe you can become a real legend of the game. Greater, even, than those who have gone before you..."
Parker let this last statement sink in. He could see the same self assured confidence in the eyes of Milos he'd seen in Roger and Rafael - that of a true champion. It was there in Grigor, he just had to find his inner self before beginning his journey to SemiGOATness, and then maybe challenging the GOATbythen, MightyMilos. He had seen shadows of it in Donald Duck, but it had disappeared whence he saw him last. Whilst he thought back to those meetings, Milosh stood unmoving, focused intently on Parker - he continued,
"So, in light of what we've already seen, and what we think you can achieve, I'm going to make an offer that someone of your age is not likely to turn down. A lifetime deal, with a bonus for every slam win, and for reaching number one, that would be - "
Raonik cut in.
"Mark, I'm going to stop you there. I have no desire for material goods, and thus money is meaningless in this discussion."
Milosh turned away from the suits, and stared again at the storm gathering outside. Strained whispers and jabs ran through them as they struggled to comprehend what Milosh had just said. Parker said nothing, and let the young man continue,
"I desire one thing, and one thing only. And I think you know what that is, Mark." Miloss turned and fixed his gaze upon Parker, his eyes burrowing into his soul. Parker whimpered as another lightning bolt lit up the sky like the 4th of July (rhymeGOAT).
"Fine. You can have it. But know this. You cannot control what it does or wants. It may give you everything you think you want, but it can just as easily take it all away. Big Berd could only control it for a few months, and look at what it did to him. 1ST ROUND loss. To Michael Llllllodra. On his best surface. And John? Well, let me tell you that the reason he lost the next day wasn't exhaustion from the tennis. It was from wearing that damn h-"
"ENOUGH!"
A voice boomed across the room, as the suits fell to their knees. GOAT was here.
"I heard whispers across the land that a deal was in the making. Is this so Mark?"
Parker knelt before the GOAT,
"Only if my humble lord decrees it. I have seen in my dreams what this man can become. He will be truly great."
The GOAT raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow
"Truly great? Whilst I sense a great deal of confusion inside him, the GOATness is certainly there. I will allow him to sign, but on one condition."
"What is it my Lord?" Parker stammered
"No GOAT PJ'd Vapors."
"Certainly your graciousness."
Parker stood to address his underlings,
"No PJ'd Vapors. This is the word of the GOAT. Thanks be to GOAT."
The suits stood and made the sign of the RF upon their chest as Milosh was escorted from the room by Parker. The GOAT took one last look at Milosh and sighed before flying off into the distance.
Further and further they went, down into the depths of Nike. Past the marketing teams who created Rafael and Andre, past the waiter who had been tipped a dollar, and down into the very heart of the Nike. In front of the men stood a small door.
"Only true GOATs or GOATSinwaiting can access this part of the cavern. We had to steal back Petros' trophies to gain access for Big Berd and Eyesner. You must use the GOAT weapon gifted to you by God Laver to enter."
Milosh gathered himself, and unleashed his service motion, in full GOATglory. Parker screamed, and fell back,
"My eyes! My eyes!" The GOATness was too much for him.
The door opened, and Raonich crawled through. There, upon the supple breasts of an angel, was perched the GHOAT. In pure white at first, but changing to match outfit, mood and GOATness on the day, it sat, calling out to him. He reached out and plucked it from the angel, who smiled as he did so. Parker woke just in time to see a flash of light. He shielded his eyes, but could just make out the tall, gangly frame of Milosh bent double, with a strange object adorning his head. His confusion turned to horror as he realised what had happened. They had melded. GHOAT and FGOAT.
It was at this point that an ancient voice spoke. A voice filled with GOATness. A voice that had spoken decades ago, when a young Swiss boy with hair bleached like snow had wandered into the cavern and found the GHOAT. It was said that from that day on, the boy's hair would have a texture like butter, colour like a deep chocolate, and the GOAThairflick.
Parker braced himself as he prepared for the after shock, as the voice whispered,
"Arise, GOATMilosh."
Far across the world, as his baby GOATs slept, the GOAT awoke. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek, and fell into his lap. The time had come for a new GOAT.
