Time to talk properly about the tennis project. Calling it ACE for now, maybe that sticks, maybe not. But before a single feature, here's where its heart comes from.
One of the best things that ever happened to two brothers is how much we learned from games, without them ever meaning to teach us anything. Start with the obvious one: English improved every single day just from reading the text these games produced, puzzling out words, figuring out pronunciation. Two kids in Sarajevo getting a language lesson from a management game, for free, without it ever feeling like a lesson.
It goes further than language: flags of countries never thought about before, which cities sit in which country, even elevation, of all things. Small facts that slipped in through a game and stayed, maybe forever. Probably everyone has their own version of this: some fact you know, and when you trace it back, it came from a game played twenty years ago.
So here's what ACE will do. Player biographies won't just be stats and summaries; woven through them, small references to a historical moment in some city, something about a country, an event worth knowing. Small doors left open for the curious.
Injuries, taken seriously. Injuries are huge in tennis, in any professional athlete's life, and most games treat them as a number and a countdown. Not here. A dedicated injury overview, extensive on purpose: what the injury actually did to the body, how long recovery realistically takes, whether surgery is needed and what kind. Because there was a time sitting in front of games years ago, reading about injuries and body parts whose names weren't even known yet, and learning them there. If a fourteen-year-old somewhere learns what an abductor is because of a menu screen, that screen was worth every hour.
The world around the tournament, too. Land somewhere for a tournament and see more than a draw sheet: the city, its elevation (which genuinely matters in tennis), something about its culture, the weather, local time, a small fact if a good one turned up. Maybe it's useful. Maybe it's just trivia. It'll be there quietly, the way it was there for us.
To be clear: we're not building an encyclopedia and calling it a game, and a tennis manager isn't pretending to be an education. Fun comes first, always. This is simply a layer of respect for curiosity, a belief that a game can sit slightly above what it strictly needs to and trust you to take what interests you and skip the rest. Games did that for two brothers once, without meaning to. Ours will do it on purpose.