THERE were more mosquitoes flitting around the Court Central floodlights than people in the stands to witness one of the most sensational results in clay-court history last night. Make that the history on any surface. Rafael Nadal announced his arrival in the big time in a manner of such precocious self-assurance that it is no exaggeration to say that he will be the world No 1 player one day.

From where does such quality come in a player who is not 17 until June? Boris Becker had the class on grass where all was instinct; Nadal possesses it on the toughest of the surfaces, where every point has to be eked out. His 7-5, 6-3 victory over Albert Costa, his Spanish compatriot, in the second round of the Monte Carlo Open was the more remarkable in that the French Open champion was utterly powerless to prevent Nadal running down all his best shots and coming up with sustained brilliance in response.

Costa had to try to win rallies over and over again, aiming as close to the lines as he could to direct the ball out of the teenager’s tentacled reach. It is hard to remember the last time that a player made so many “gets” at full stretch. And it is not as if Nadal is a lithe, skinny athlete — he is built like the side of a barn.

His long dark hair held away from his face by a white bandanna, Nadal has the face of a cherub but the heart of a young lion. His blood line is pretty impressive: his uncle, Miguel Angel, the famed “Beast of Barcelona”, was one of Spanish football’s finest central defenders of recent times. His other uncle, Antonio, is the young man’s coach. What a family.

Costa will take a long time to get this defeat out of his system, as a word with Franco Squillari, of Argentina, would confirm. One recalls Richard Gasquet, the 16-year-old French prodigy, defeating Squillari on this same court a year ago and marvelling at such smartness. Nadal has that and more, topped with a left-handed serve, a forehand that whistles through the air, sheer cunning and — his only downside — a piercing shriek emitted with every shot. Perhaps he will control it in time.

“It’s not a dream, but before this tournament I couldn’t have imagined this happening,” Nadal, who will move into the world’s top 100 at the end of the week, said. “I feel I treated him with too much respect at the start, but then played better and better. He didn’t have a great day, but I was playing very well.” Today, it is the turn of Guillermo Coria, of Argentina, to try to halt the progress of Nadal, who has not dropped a set in two rounds of qualifying and two in the tournament proper.

Magnus Norman was the second-best player in the world in June 2000 and walked the streets of Paris on the arm of Martina Hingis. He had reached the final of the French Open — saving ten match points before a heartbreaking defeat by Gustavo Kuerten — and only Andre Agassi stood between the Swede and the ultimate ranking. Then his body began to break beneath the strain.

Norman missed a large chunk of the next year because of problems with his hip, losing in the first round at Roland Garros, missing Wimbledon and the US Open and, last year, did not get beyond the first round in his two grand-slam tournaments. From that position of No 2, he had fallen away by the end of 2002 to No 105. In October last year he required two operations on his left knee.

From a set and 5-2 down yesterday, he rolled off 14 points in succession, extending that run to seven games, by which time he was 2-0 ahead in the final set. Kuerten, who usually treats the surface as his private fiefdom, was drowning. Norman went on to record the 1-6, 7-5, 6-2 victory that was his sweetest hour and 58 minutes on a court since the semi-final of the French Open three summers previously.

“It’s been incredible that my knee has felt so good these past three weeks,” he said. “That’s the best feeling I’ve ever had, just to be able to practise day in and day out without having to go through all the pain I’ve gone through. Fitness-wise, I’m close to better than I’ve ever been.”

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