Scene II: He is meeting Boris Becker in the fourth round of last year's Wimbledon on Centre Court. Hours before Rios walks on to the court, the American giant, Nike, rushes through a $ 10 million endorsement deal with the Chilean. And, to celebrate the prize catch, Nike managers organise a big bash the same evening. Becker wipes Rios out in straight sets and the Chilean leaves London on the next available flight, leaving Nike officials red-faced.

Scene III: Press conference during the Davis Cup World Group play-offtie between India and Chile at New Delhi. A seemingly innocuous question: Do you like playing on grass? The answer: ``It should be for cows, not for playing tennis.''

Well, tennis has not seen anyone like him. At least for quite sometime. Hugely talented; can turn around matches; can lose matches after coasting through for the first couple of sets because he has suddenly lost interest; cares a damn about etiquette; respects no one; lives and plays as he pleases.So what? He is now the world's best player. Some say it is a back-door entry, as a normal route to the top slot is through a Grand Slam win. Try saying that to Rios. He would probably invent an expletive as answer.Along with his surge up the tennis ladder, times have become really tough for Chilean sports journalists. After all, they have to keep pace with him all over the world. A radio journalist recalled his plight at Wimbledon last year, trying to follow this short-statured brat around the world. ``He's a bastard, he's a bastard,'' he begins inbroken English. ``He can win any match, but if he want to lose, he lose. My wife is upset because I'm not at home always. `You either marry Rios or you stay here,' she tells.''

No doubt, he has turned Chilean sport on its head. When crowds thronged the streets of Santiago to celebrate his coming of age, they had finally found an icon, somebody who could put Chile right there on top of the world. Earlier, it was football with which the triumph and tragedy of an ordinary Chilean were inextricably linked.

Now it is Marcelo, as he is fondly called by his countrymen. `Marcelo, Marcelo' screamed his fans, who flew down to Key Biscayne (Florida) to watch him decimate Andre Agassi in the final of the Lipton tournament which got him the No. 1 spot.

He knows he has become Chile's greatest sportsman of all time. ``Being the best player in the world for Chile is not normal. I feel really proud to be a Chilean,'' he said soon after becoming number one. He became the first South American to become No. 1 since theranking system began 25 years ago. He is the 14th man to hold the position and is only the second player after Ivan Lendl to reach No. 1 without a stop at No. 2.

Yet, if a smile escapes his face, it would be something of a miracle. His expressionless, indifferent and, at times, bored looks give one an entirely different perception of the man. That's what Rios is. He doesn't care about the world around him. He is not the one who would keep smiling and make everyone happy. On the contrary, there are few who haven't been on the wrong end of Rios' behaviour. Nor does he explain why he is so different. Perhaps, that's what makes him the superstar everybody loves to loath. His kempt pony tail held together with a rubber band, his magical returns, his ability to come up with winners whenever he pleases had always marked him out as a potential candidate for number one.

But then, there was somebody called Pete Sampras who had held on to the top slot as easily as he rifles in aces. Experts called Sampras the onlyone in history who could play near-perfect tennis. To dislodge him from the top after 102 consecutive weeks was an achievement that the likes of Boris Becker, Andre Agassi failed to achieve.

The most pleasing fact about the 22-year-old is that he is not the quintessential player who pumps weights and then walks on to the tennis court to cut the opponent down with sheer power. Rios has no power, comparitively speaking. He is all grace and elegance, and that smooth, silken touch which has almost been sacrificed at the altar of brute power, which has reduced the sport to a slam-bang-thank you variety.

His victory at the Key Biscayne tournament was his eighth career singles title and the third this season as he improved his 1998 record to 25-3.With his victory at the Champions Cup at Indian Wells, California, two weeks ago, Rios became the first player to win back-to-back Super Nine events since Agassi won the Canadian Open and the ATP Championships in Cincinnati in 1995.

In January, Rios won the event inAuckland, and was a finalist at the Australian Open. Last season, Rios prevailed at Monte Carlo for his first career Super Nine title.

It's an entirely different matter that he may not be able to hold on to the slot for long. He is no Sampras, the perfectionist who still feels he has a lot to improve upon. At best, Rios is a wayward genius in the mould of the good old Super Mac, New Yorker John McEnroe. Moreover, Sampras will be dying to get back to the place he always belongs. At the moment, the American is suffering from what could be termed a momentary lapse of reason.

That should hardly bother the Chilean. Sure, he is not going to lose sleep over this business of being number one. He would still play the way he has always done, taking care of his pony tail during changeovers. In fact, that is a ritual he does even before sipping water taking off the rubber band, holding it between its teeth, keeping his hair together and slipping in the band right back. Marcelo Rios is ready to play. Why bother aboutthat one digit against his name?