"We had played an exhibition match in Buenos Aires and were supposed to play another one in Venezuela [...]. The plane broke down, we arrived in Caracas via Rio and Miami, we were exhausted. I proposed a deal to Ilie: there would be no prize money, everyone had already received their fee; we would play the first set for real; whoever won it would also win the second. He accepted, on one condition: “Don't hit me with drop shots, I don't feel like running.” First point. He served, on the line. I made a strange movement, and it came out as a winning drop shot. I heard Nastase roar: “Damn Maccarone!” We played to the death for three and a half hours, and I won 7-6 in the third set. Every time we changed sides, Nastase growled at me: “Maccarone, you hit me with a drop shot!”"