While the tennis of the 1970s was already quite different than the decade before it, both because of the Open Era but also a shift in the way the game was played, the 1980s saw even further change: namely through the transition to metal racquets as well as the rise of the Australian Open. By 1987 the competition at the AO was, if not quite on par with the other three Slams, very close. A few years later it would be equal.
While the last three generations each had a singular dominant player, the 1959-63 generation is the first since the 1934-38 generation that saw two players vying for the top spot. In some ways John McEnroe, nicknamed “Superbrat” by the British press, seems more part of Borg’s generation, yet he is much closer in age to Ivan “the Terrible” Lendl. Their respective peaks are a bit different, only overlapping for a year or two; McEnroe was at his best from the late 70s until 1985, Lendl not peaking until well into the 80s and remaining an elite player into the 90s. They are, clearly, the twin crown princes of the generation and the two best players born between Bjorn Borg (1956) and Pete Sampras (1971).
Best Players by Birth Year 1959: John McEnroe (USA, 7), Eliot Teltscher (USA) 1960: Ivan Lendl (CZE, 8), Yannick Noah (FRA, 1), Andres Gomez (ECU, 1), Tim Mayotte (USA) 1961: Brad Gilbert (USA), Anders Jarryd (SWE) 1962: Juan Aguilera (ESP) 1963: Henri Leconte (FRA), Joakim Nystrom (SWE), Mikael Pernfors (SWE)
Discussion
Ivan Lendl is the only player of the Open Era with 6+ Slams who has a losing record in finals (8-11), but that speaks more to the strength of the era he played in than any lack of effort on his part. First of all, we should consider that he has played in more Slam finals than anyone in the Open Era other than Sampras, Federer, and Nadal (although Novak will almost certainly surpass him in 2016 – he’s just one behind). Consider also that Lendl’s career overlapped with the peaks of Connors, Borg, McEnroe, Wilander, Edberg, Becker, Courier, Agassi, and Sampras; there is really no other great player of the Open Era who faced such a multi-generational array of all-time greats, with the exception of Jimmy Connors and possibly Andre Agassi. The main tarnish on Lendl’s record, and his unfulfilled White Whale, was his inability to win the grandaddy of all tournaments: Wimbledon.
Johnny Mac is the most memorable player of the generation, and one of the most infamous players in tennis history, both because of his legendary temper tantrums, one of which made the title of the article famous, but also because of his intuitively brilliant play. He also has the honor of being the only player that could consistently beat Bjorn Borg. While their perhaps unparalleled rivalry yielded a 7-7 record (plus 4-4 in invitational matches), McEnroe held the edge over Borg the last couple years and had a 3-1 record in Grand Slams. The two provide us with an example of an interesting dynamic in discussing tennis greats: While Borg is generally ranked higher on all-time lists, by the time he retired McEnroe was a better player and McEnroe’s overall career accomplishments—aside from Slam titles—are better. This points to the ongoing developmental nature of the game. Regardless, the two are much closer than their Slam title totals (11 and 7) would imply.
Underachievers and Forgotten Players
This generation was so dominated by Lendl and McEnroe that it is hard to accuse any player of being an underachiever. I suppose Yannick Noah, who is probably more well-known than his career would entail, could have accomplished more. Noah is well-known not only for being the only French Slam winner of the Open Era, but the second black player to win a Slam, and also for his leadership in the Davis Cup.
Did You Know?
Yannick Noah has so many different angles on fame. Aside from his tennis accomplishments, he is also the father of NBA player Joakim Noah, and had a relatively successful music career.
Top Ten Players of the Generation
Ivan Lendl
John McEnroe
Yannick Noah
Andres Gomez
Henri Leconte
Brad Gilbert
Tim Mayotte
Anders Jarryd
Eliot Teltscher
Joakim Nystrom
Honorable Mention: Juan Aguilera
Some might take issue with my ranking Lendl over McEnroe, but Lendl’s record is just better. While McEnroe had a higher peak and was probably a more brilliant tennis player, with a level of dominance and a brilliance of play unmatched by the Czech, Lendl’s peak wasn’t that much lower and he sustained an elite level far longer than McEnroe.
Noah and Gomez—the only others to win Slams—are pretty easy to rank at No. 3 and No. 4, and then the rest taper off. Gomez is an interesting player in that he won his only Slam in 1990 at the age of 30, against a young Andre Agassi. Gomez—born the same year as Lendl and a year after McEnroe—won his lone Slam just after Lendl’s last and six years after McEnroe’s last, in 1984. He’s a good reminder for players like Jo-Wilfried Tsonga and Tomas Berdych that there’s always hope.
After surveying Open Era tennis through the five nations with the highest Slam totals, we’re left with a few questions and unexplored areas which I’ll try to tackle in this concluding segment.
Who’s left?
The “big five” tennis nations include many, even most, of the all-time greats of the Open Era. Let’s take a look at the other nations and their players by Slam count:
Czechoslovakia/Czech Republic (12): Ivan Lendl (8), Jan Kodes (3), Petr Korda (1).
Serbia (9): Novak Djokovic (9)
Germany/West Germany (7): Boris Becker (6), Michael Stich (1)
Argentina (6): Guillermo Vilas (4), Gaston Gaudio (1), Juan Martin del Potro (1)
Russia (4): Yevgeny Kafelnikov (2), Marat Safin (2)
Brazil (3): Gustavo Kuerten (3)
Croatia (2): Goran Ivanisevic (1), Marin Cilic (1)
Romania (2): Ilie Nastase (2)
South Africa (2): Johan Kriek (2)
United Kingdom (2): Andy Murray (2)
Austria (1): Thomas Muster (1)
Ecuador (1): Andres Gomez (1)
France (1): Yannick Noah (1)
Italy (1): Adriano Panatta (1)
Netherlands (1): Richard Krajicek (1)
Before Djokovic is through, Serbia’s Slam count should surpass that of the Czechs as a whole.
Slavic Surge?
I almost titled this last part “Slavic Surge!” because it would seem that the tennis from Slavic countries has been on the rise. But it wasn’t quite as extreme as I thought. There are some strong Slavic players currently in their peaks, namely Djokovic, Berdych, Cilic, and Karlovic. There are some younger players with some upside, including Damir Dzumhur (23, No. 100), Grigor Dimitrov (24, No. 16), and Jiri Vesely (22, No. 45). But there is only one player that looks like a potential future star, and that is the 18-year-old Croatian Borna Coric, who is currently ranked No. 37. So while Slavic tennis is strong, it is hardly dominant (Novak aside).
Possible Future Slam Winning Countries
So who might the next Slam winners be? Specifically, which countries have the most possible future Slam winners? Well, that is for a future study that I’m working on. But I will say that as we’ve seen in the previous segments, there isn’t much on the horizon for Spain or Switzerland, and only really the Ymer brothers in Sweden; in the US there are a few prospects, and Australia at least has “K&K”: Kyrgios and Kokkinakis.
All in all there doesn’t seem to be a central location for tennis right now or the foreseeable future. We can sum up the Open Era by looking at early dominance by Australians, namely Ken Rosewall, Rod Laver, and John Newcombe, then the rise of Americans in Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe, and Sweden in Bjorn Borg, Mats Wilander, and Stefan Edberg. Along with German Boris Becker and Czech Ivan Lendl, Americans and Swedes dominated tennis from the mid-70s into the early 90s, with Sweden dropping off as Edberg retired, but the United States remained dominant into the 21st century, led by Pete Sampras and Andre Agassi. But then the US dropped off precipitously, and Switzerland and Spain took up the rulership of men’s tennis, with Serbia playing its part.
What the future will bring, well, it is a truly global world out there. There’s no sign of any of the five great tennis nations regaining their dominance. There are some glimmerings of improvement in Australia, and a bit in the US, but nothing substantial or worthy of the term “future dominance.” We’re going to see a shared effort, it would seem.
Today’s final in Brisbane brought Roger Federer the chance to win his 1,000th match. It also meant he could add win his 83rd title — the most of all active players. With a three-set victory over Milos Raonic, Federer earned all of above. He now joins only two other players who have achieved this feat in the Open Era: Jimmy Connors (1,253) and Ivan Lendl (1,071).
Going into the Australian Open, the 33 year old is also now firmly seated at No. 2 in the world, ahead of Rafael Nadal and trailing only Novak Djokovic, both multiple Slam winners. Roger Federer has been in the Top 10 since October of 2002. He also has a tour leading 17 Grand Slam titles though he hasn’t won a Major since 2012. (He last won the Australian Open in 2010.)
Considering he posted a 73-12 record in 2014, Federer is now projected to get past Ivan Lendl late this year or early next year.
All good things come to an end. It is the inevitable tragedy of life, although of course it also allows for greater appreciation of the moments we do have. And so it is with tennis greats, whether the current twilight years of Roger Federer or, as is the focus of this piece, the inevitable decline of Rafael Nadal from an unstoppable force of nature to merely a great, but beatable, player.
Before you protest that all players have their ups and downs, let us consider the simple fact that Rafael Nadal is in an age window when most great players drop a notch; even if he’s not dropping yet, it is inevitable that at some point soon he will. But a notch from his peak level still makes him one of the best players in the game – just as in Roger’s “twilight years” he is still probably the third greatest player on tour.
Perhaps by understanding the career trajectories of other great players we can better understand where Nadal might be in his own career, and what might be ahead. For a player of Nadal’s stature there are few peers – we have to look at players who were for a significant portion of their careers considered the best in the game. Going back through Open Era history, we have Roger Federer, Pete Sampras, Ivan Lendl, John McEnroe, Bjorn Borg, and Rod Laver. With apologies to other dominant players such as Novak Djokovic, Andre Agassi, Boris Becker, Stefan Edberg, Mats Wilander, and Jimmy Connors, I’m looking at players who were the best for an extended period of time (Djokovic is close, but he’s younger than Nadal so doesn’t really qualify). Borg also has to be taken out of the equation as he retired at 25.
That leaves us with Federer, Sampras, Lendl, McEnroe, and Laver. Considering that Nadal turns 28 this year, let’s keep in mind the year those five turned 28 for a reference point:
Federer: 2009
Sampras: 1999
Lendl: 1988
McEnroe: 1987
Laver: 1966
As I’ve suggested elsewhere, most players follow a career pattern in four major phases (with general age averages): development (17-21), peak (22-26), plateau (27-31), and decline (32-). Obviously players veer out of those ranges, but those are typical. I would maintain that one way to define the peak phase is that it is the period of a player’s career in which their results, especially winning percentage, are solidly over their career average, while the plateau phase is more around the career average or a bit below. Now the question at hand in this context is whether or not Rafael Nadal is transitioning from his peak to plateau phase, which is a step below peak but still very high.
Let’s take a look at the five players and see at what point they transitioned from peak to plateau. To get a sense of that, we’ll be focusing on their Grand Slam results and match winning percentage.
Roger Federer
The Swiss Maestro was clearly in his peak from 2004 to 2007. When he actually dropped a notch into his plateau phase is a bit unclear, however. Many consider the great 2008 Wimbledon match as when Roger passed the baton to Rafa for greatest player in the game. But not only was that match a complete toss-up, but Roger went out and won the next Slam and four out of the next six. Rather, I would maintain that what the 2008 Wimbledon marked was Nadal joining Federer as the best in the game, a partnership which was maintained–some some passing of the baton back and forth–until 2010 when two things happened: Rafa had probably his best year and Roger dropped a notch, leaving Rafa as the sole king of the tour.
Regardless of when Federer’s skills began to erode, greatness is always defined relative to others, thus the results offer a reliable barometer for his drop in performance. Looking at the statistical record, Roger’s career definitely dropped a solid step after the 2010 Australian Open, his penultimate Slam victory (so far, at least). Whereas Roger won a remarkable 16 of 27 Grand Slams from Wimbledon 2003 to the 2010 Australian Open, playing in a perhaps even more remarkable 22 of 27 Finals, from 2010 Roland Garros to the present, Roger has won only 1 and played in 2 Finals of 16 Slams. He is still a very, very good player, but clearly a step down from his previous peak.
Looking at Roger’s winning percentage confuses the matter a bit, as he dropped quite a bit from 88% in 2007 to 81% in 2008, and then equalized in the 83-86% range from 2009 to 2012, and then plummeting to 73% in 2013 before rising to 87% (so far) in 2014. But winning percentage is only part of the equation, the other being Slam results, and Roger remained pretty dominant through the Australian Open in 2010 so I would argue that he entered his plateau phase around Roland Garros in 2010 – when he was 28 years old, turning 29 a few months later.
Pete Sampras
Pistol Pete was the No. 1 ranked player in the game for an unparalleled six years in a row, from 1993-1998, the year he turned 27. While Pete was No. 1 as late as November 2000 when he was 29 years old, his reign of dominance had clearly ended, or at least diminished.
In 1998, Pete’s last year at No. 1, his winning percentage had dropped for the second straight year and, at 78.2%, was about at his career average (77.4%). But then in 1999 it shot up again to 83.3%, the highest it had been since 1996 and the fourth highest of his career. Yet it dropped again in 1999 to 76.4% and continued to drop over his last couple years.
So in one sense we could say that Pete was as good as ever in 1999, the year he turned 28, yet on the other it was in far fewer matches than usual – he only played 48, the fewest he had played since 1989, and far fewer than his average of 81 per year from 1990-98.
Regardless, it seems clear that Pete entered his plateau phase sometime between 1998 and 1999. He lost the No. 1 ranking in late March of 1998 after holding it for 102 weeks straight. He did regain it again before the end of the year so that he still finished No. 1, but I think at that point the writing was on the wall. So I’d maintain that he transitioned into his plateau phase around age 27.
Ivan Lendl
Some might take issue with Lendl’s inclusion, as his early career was overshadowed by Borg, McEnroe, and Connors, and later on he vied with Wilander, Becker, Edberg, and then Sampras and Agassi. (Actually, as an aside, Lendl may be one of the most underrated players in tennis history because of all great players—at least during the Open Era—no one else played alongside other greats playing at or near their peaks, and Lendl held his own, and then some.) Let us remember that Lendl finished three years in a row, 1985-87, at No. 1, and a fourth year in 1989. He also finished in the Top 3 for nine straight years and the Top 8 for thirteen straight years, both of which only Roger Federer has equalled since (Fed finished in the Top 3 for ten straight years and assuming he finished 2014 in the Top 8, will equal Lendl’s thirteen straight years in the Top 8).
Lendl’s fall to his plateau is relatively easy to determine. In 1989, his last year finishing No. 1, he had a winning percentage of 92% which fell to his career average of 82% in 1990, which was also the last year he won a Slam, and then 75% in 1991. So the fall came between 1989 and 1990 – perhaps after his last Slam at the Australian Open in 1990, so when he was 29, almost 30 years old.
John McEnroe
Johnny Mac is a bit of an outlier to this group because his later career was marred by personal issues. But he was still a similarly dominant player as the others on this list during the first half of his 20s, ranked No. 1 for four years in a row, and the only player to be considered the great Bjorn Borg’s equal, even surpassing the great Swede towards the end of their rivalry.
Anyhow, McEnroe’s drop is quite clear. His very greatest year was 1984 when he had an amazing 96% winning percentage (82-3). Yet 1985—despite not winning any Slams—was also great, with an 89% winning percentage and far above his career average of 81.5%. But then he missed a lot of time in 1986-87 and never came back even close to peak form, so we could say that there’s a clear separation between peak and plateau/decline between the years 1985 and 1986. Johnny Mac turned 27 in early 1986, so the drop was at age 26-27.
Rod Laver
I include Laver with some hesitancy considering that he played in the mists of ancient tennis history. Yet he was a similarly dominant player to Nadal and Federer, and had his last great year in the Open Era.
It is more difficult to example the statistical records from before the ATP era (1973), but from what the statistical record shows us, Laver maintained a peak level of performance throughout his 20s and through his great year in 1969 when he won all four Grand Slams. He turned 31 that year.
Laver remained a good player for a few more years, but was never the same. So his peak ended quite late – at age 31.
Summary
So when we look at our five comparable greats to Nadal, we see the age that they transitioned from peak to plateau form as follows:
Federer: ~28
Sampras: ~27
Lendl: ~29
McEnroe: ~26
Laver: ~31
Looking back over the last year or so, Rafa was playing at a very high level through the summer of 2013. After dominating the North American section of the tour by winning the US Open and both the Canadian and Cincinnati Masters, Nadal slowed down a bit, not winning a tournament for the rest of the year. He started 2014 by winning the Qatar Open, although then lost in the Australian Open final, partially due to injury. He also won his second tournament of the year in Rio, but both his wins so far are relatively minor (an ATP 250 and 500, respectively), and he hasn’t won any of the three Masters and just lost in Barcelona in the quarterfinal. His 91% winning percentage in 2013 was the best of his career, while his 82% so far this year is actually a bit below his career average of 83.6%, so there is cause for concern.
Nadal will turn 28 years old in a little over a month, so he is certainly within range of the norm for transitioning from peak to plateau. Right now he is the same age that Roger Federer was when he won the 2009 Wimbledon and when Sampras won the 1998 Wimbledon. At Rafa’s current age, both Roger and Pete won three more Slams; Lendl won only two more, but had fewer total.
So if we want to guess what is before Rafa, we can look at Federer and Sampras in particular. If Rafa truly is transitioning from his peak to his plateau—and it seems likely, in my opinion—he still has many good years ahead of him. And if I were to guess how many more Slams he will win, like Federer and Sampras at the same age, three is as good a guess as any. Both Roger and Pete won two more at their best Slam (Wimbledon) and one more at another. Perhaps, then, an educated guess would be that Rafa will win two more French Opens and one more on another court, which would bring him to a total of 16 for his career – one shy of Roger Federer’s current total, but more than anyone else.
But of course there are always exceptions to the rule, and Rafa is as good a candidate to be one as any other. Every player has a different career trajectory; but if he follows the typical trajectory of a great player, while he would truly be transitioning into his plateau phase now, he also likely has a few good years—and a few Slam titles—left in him.
It is with lots of interest in all media especially social media that we read of the new additions on the men’s side. What is striking is the fact that all of the coaches that are hired were superstars from the 80′s and 90′s. It started with Murray hiring Ivan Lendl and we can clearly see the improvement since Lendl joined the Murray camp. Now Roger Federer has hired Stefan Edberg, former number 1 serve and volley expert from Sweden, and Boris Becker is hired by Novak Djokovic, another specialist at the serve and volley game. Connors was hired some years back by Roddick and lately Connors briefly worked with Sharapova.
As a former Top 10 player, I have firsthand knowledge of all of these guys since I played them many, many times. In fact, I predicted that Boris Becker will win Wimbledon in 1985 after he beat me in the finals of Queens in London. He did. I beat Stefan Edberg at Wimbledon when he was making his debut from the juniors, although that win was in five sets and one of my best ever comebacks from two sets down. I lost to Lendl in the 1986 semis at the French Open so I have intimate knowledge of their games and being around them for decades, one gets to know their thinking…
You may ask yourself, why are these top guys hiring guys who played totally different styles than them? Here are my answers:
1. Besides a new fresh pair of eyes, it is exciting to have a new guy at your side, which brings the desire up to perform and that is hugely important. Desire is a must!
2. The men’s tour has become so brutally physical that players are thinking about how to shorten points. These coaches played 90% of their points “short”. Meaning serve and volley, chip and charge, etc. That was their state of mind. Roger and Novak are looking for some of that. (More on this aspect later in this blog.)
3. Publicity for the “team” brings a whole new flavor to their camp. It is all good! Their sponsors like it, the fans like it, and with the explosion of “immediate news” on social media, it is all good!
I will break down the different “celebrity” coaches here from Connors to the sudden hiring of Edberg and Becker.
Connors is an absolute icon in our sport. A tough guy, with a very hard edge, who won more ATP tournaments than any man on this planet! It was the perfect “American story” for Andy Roddick to have hired Jimmy when Andy was on the verge of being more dominant. The heartbreaking final against Roger at Wimbledon was perhaps the moment that extinguished that “flame”. None of us will know when it happens but I suspect that match really affected Andy. That type of relationship has very little to do with a new “technical improvement” rather the player is looking for that extra mental boost that may help them reach a little higher. No guarantees that would happen.
Ivan Lendl joining Andy Murray was the perfect fit in my opinion. Andy Murray was “bridesmaid” to Roger and Rafa for a number of years, and it was beginning to look like he would not be able to get “over the hump” mentally at Majors in particular.
Ivan was in that same position for years. He was in the finals of eight Majors before he won his first! Remember Brad Gilbert, who coached Andre Agassi with great success and was hired by Murray via the LTA in England to help Murray? It did not work! Why? Murray did not have the same respect for Gilbert as he has for Lendl. It was so obvious that it was embarrassing at times at tournaments and the relationship ended shortly after that. Lendl helped Murray understand what it will take mentally to get his first Major win and he did! Now Murray has a US Open, an Olympic gold medal, and a Wimbledon title under his belt. Murray also just came off back surgery so he has issues physically. He may have to start thinking about shortening points…
Federer hiring Stefan Edberg is another smart move after a long stint with another serve and volley expert, Paul Annacone. But since Roger slid in the rankings to No. 7, it was the right time for a change of scenery. It happens all the time. Edberg is the consummate gentleman of our sport. An eight time Grand Slam champion, he knows how to move forward to the net and is a very cool cucumber. A perfect mental fit to help Roger understand how to shorten points and what it takes to perhaps serve and volley a little more. It is all about finding that “little edge”. None of these coaches are hired for a new forehand or backhand, but certainly could be of great assistance in the volley area, movement, and reading skills at the net, and how to be a little smarter about attacking at the right time and the surprise effect of coming to the net. This is a great fit for Roger. I think Roger bends his elbow too much on his backhand volley and gives it too much “chop” at contact. It would be interesting to see if Edberg helps him shorten his backhand volley preparation to be more solid. There, I criticized Roger!… 🙂
Djokovic hiring Becker was another surprise! I was with Becker and Edberg at Richard Branson’s fundraiser on Necker Island a few weeks ago, and had a conversation with both of them. None of them let on what they were up to for 2014.
Novak is an incredibly gifted athlete that has all the stuff physically and mentally. His volleys are not his stronger shots but again, I think him hiring Becker points to a “fresh” start with new excitement in trying to be more aggressive with a new team member. It is all about finding that extra mental edge at this high level. Novak is looking to be No. 1 again after Rafa snatched it back at the end of the season.
David Ferrer just fired his longtime mentor/coach. Perhaps the best player out there today who may never win a Major unless he adds a little more risk in coming to the net. Ferrer has all the stuff mentally. His serve has improved but I think he can still improve on his serve a little and coming forward will be necessary. Like they say, no risk, no reward. I am a huge fan of Ferrer. I certainly hope he can add a Major to his mantle. But it will require him to risk a lot more and to throw the “kitchen sink” at those moments in big matches where he used to play “not to lose” and then did lose. Perhaps play closer in to the baseline and risk blistering shots down the line from closer in and follow it in… Again, no guarantees but that is the only way to get the rewards.
Rafa needs no “celebrity” coach. He is a simple thinker, is perhaps the best “self-motivator” out there. Uncle Toni is there and I do not see any changes in the family set-up. They “tinker” with his game all the time, and I suspect that if the Nadal camp see improvements from Roger and Novak in shortening points, they will follow suit.
I, for one, will be watching closely in 2014. Adding these coaches will be interesting to see if any changes “sank in” and will bear fruit! Go at it, guys!
Hours before Andy Murray opens his 2013 US Open title defense campaign, there seems to be an unusual — but welcome — air of tranquility surrounding him, or more accurately, surrounding his critics, supporters, and tennis pundits in general. Sure, there is no escaping the clichéd narrative of “defending champion pressure,” as it seemed to become the de facto question mark once the media ran out of reasons to doubt the Brit, but that almost seems like a compliment when compared to years of harsh assessments, inaccurate labels, and false predictions of a gloomy future following every loss. In the span of twelve months, Murray went from everyone’s obligatory choice on a “best player never to win a Slam” shortlist, to the heaven-sent savior of British tennis and a multiple Grand Slam champion.
For years, Murray was impatiently crucified for every high profile loss, every shocking defeat, and yes, even every Masters 1000 event tournament win because “if only he can do that in Majors.” At times, he was given a few deserved passes due to competing in an era where three of the greatest ever to play the game happen to dominate, but he was ultimately a victim of his own success: He had proven he could beat them on more than one occasion, but had yet to do so when it mattered most. Of course, in an ever fickle tennis world, failing to string together two consecutive wins over Nadal and Federer in your first ever Major semifinal (and final) appearance, losing to Novak Djokovic on his beloved Australian Open turf, and succumbing to the Swiss master on the Centre Court of Wimbledon dubiously brings your mental toughness into question.
If the general consensus was to be believed, every Slam was Murray’s last chance to win a Major, and every Grand Slam final loss somehow meant his chances of finally snatching one were decreasing, despite the fact that he was continuously putting himself in a position to do so. Murray’s years of unfair media treatment were largely a result of him not winning a Slam as early as most predicted. Typically, he was quick to be put on a pedestal only to be shot down once he didn’t immediately meet the needlessly inflated expectations.
In hindsight, Murray’s career has been far from unusual. In fact, its evolution makes sense, once one looks at the tennis aspect of his game, what he lacked, what he excelled at, and what he has managed to improve. If experts simply distanced themselves from the fanfare and unreasonable demands of immediate glory, the reasons behind Murray’s “failings” were fairly evident, especially once contrasted with his subsequent success in winning Grand Slams.
Murray was long chastised for his inability to play aggressively in key matches or moments, but this was hardly a mental block that he was somehow unable to overcome, or an elusive strategy he had yet to comprehend. From a pure tennis perspective, Murray’s forehand was letting him down against the game’s elite. That is not to suggest that he had never approached a match the wrong way, implemented an ill-advised strategy, or remained too content to stay within his comfort zone. In fact, those factors definitely contributed to many of his defeats. Likewise, while he was never nearly as shaky between the ears as many would have you believe, the Scot didn’t always have the most exemplary attitude facing adversity (a semifinal match with Nadal at the 2011 US Open particularly stands out), and he was obviously nervous in his first ever Grand Slam final appearance against Federer.
However, for the bulk of his career, Murray’s forehand was what was stopping him from employing the aggression many urged him to, while the improvement he later made to that very shot (helped immensely by the partnership with Ivan Lendl) turned him into the champion many predicted he would become. Heartbreaking as it must have been, Murray’s 2012 Australian Open semifinal loss to Novak Djokovic was the definite sign of things to come. Up until that point, Murray had been routinely dominated in forehand-to-forehand crosscourt exchanges by Djokovic, Federer, and even by Nadal’s crosscourt backhand. That Djokovic semi marked the first time since his brilliant 2010 Australian Open performance against Nadal that Murray used his forehand with authority against one of the game’s “Big 3” in a Major. The Lendl partnership was immediately paying off.
Looking back at the pre-2012 US Open phase of Murray’s career, you can pinpoint four crucial matches that perfectly capture his development. Often, a player turns in an eye-opening performance (even in defeat) that earns him premature predictions of guaranteed greatness by trigger-happy fans and pundits, only to spectacularly fail to live up to the hype. Murray, on the other hand, is a rare case of a player whose defining matches were corroborated by his career trajectory.
Murray had shown flashes of his future brilliance in a five-set loss to David Nalbandian at Wimbledon in 2005, and a straight-set upset of Roger Federer at the 2006 Cincinnati Masters. However, his real “take notice” moment, at least as far as I’m concerned, was his five-set loss to Rafael Nadal at the 2007 Australian Open. A more fit version of Murray would have more than likely emerged victorious, but the Brit looked noticeably winded in the deciding set. Nevertheless, Murray’s talent was on full display, as he handled Nadal’s spin with crosscourt backhands all day, toyed with his opponent with silky-smooth drop shots, and showed incredible hands at the net. While injury would soon derail his momentum that year, it remains the match which gave us the first glimpse of Murray against a future rival, and one of the sport’s giants on the Grand Slam level.
Eighteen months later, Murray got his shot at redemption, this time producing what was the most sensational tennis of his career to topple Nadal in 4 sets at the 2008 US Open semifinal. Murray had just broken into the Top 10, and cemented his status as a legitimate threat at Majors by eliminating the Spaniard in the midst of the hottest run of his career. The match remains among Murray’s finest hours, as his serve, aggression, and forehand looked near unplayable. Despite a disappointing outing against Federer in the final, Murray would build off that monumental win over Nadal with an impressive fall indoor season, winning his second Masters 1000 event in Madrid (his first was at Cincinnati earlier that summer), thus officially becoming part of the sport’s “Big 4” (when the term was first coined).
If the two Nadal matches were turning points as far as Murray cementing his status among the sport’s very best is concerned, his aforementioned semifinal with Djokovic at the 2012 Australian Open was the turning point with regards to his eventual Grand Slam triumph. The Lendl partnership was still in its early stages, but the intent was clear. Despite the loss, there was an overwhelming amount of positives for Murray to take. The match saw him combine his variety, defense, and aggression to deliver an absolute classic that would have been even more fondly remembered had it not been for a rough opening set and the subsequent Djokovic/Nadal final.
Murray built off that match to take himself all the way to his first Wimbledon final, where he was once again toppled by his Grand Slam final tormentor, Roger Federer. However, a few weeks later, Murray would gain revenge in one of the greatest moments of his career, and his ultimate pre-Grand Slam win turning point, when he beat Federer in the final of the 2012 Olympics in London. From a tennis perspective, the performance itself may not have been as telling as Murray’s aggressive outing against Djokovic in Melbourne, but it finally gave Murray a satisfaction that rivals winning a Major, and the emotional boost he needed on his way to realizing his dream. It took him mere weeks to do so, as Murray once again used that career exemplifying match against Federer to win the US Open crown by beating Novak Djokovic in five windy sets.
Almost a full year later, Murray revisits the ground that provided him his first taste of Grand Slam glory, and walks in as the Wimbledon champion to boot. There are no talks of last chances, mental obstacles, “first British man since…”, or the need to adopt a more aggressive approach. In fact, there have been no overreactions to his now-customary post-Slam final lulls when he surprisingly loses early in Masters 1000 events. There is only “Andy Murray: US Open and Wimbledon champion.”
You know you’ve made it when the media manage to keep a level head after you lose, and still pencil you in as one of the favorites for a Major, instead of using said defeat as a sure-fire sign of a tennis apocalypse. Only a few players are offered this luxury. Andy Murray, you have officially made it.
Welcome to Down The T — a new regular blog slot where we interview an assortment of people from the world of tennis. In our first installment, we are delighted to welcome Chris Lewis, the 1983 Wimbledon runner-up. Chris was also the leading junior of his time – winning Junior Wimbledon and ranking Number One before turning pro in 1975. A native of New Zealand, Chris and family now live in California.
Owen caught up with Chris this week, who was very generous with his time, providing a great insight into his career and the world of tennis in the 70s and 80s.
Chris, we are delighted that you agreed to an interview with Tennis Frontier. I’ll begin by going back to your roots. At what age did you take up tennis, and what prompted you to first pick up a racquet?
I started when I was old enough to swing a racquet. Both my parents were very keen players who spent every weekend at the tennis club. By the time I was five, I was able to rally quite well, and was playing regularly in tournaments (12’s) by the time I was seven.
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Your two brothers (Mark and David) were pretty decent players. Was there much sibling rivalry back in the day, or was the age difference just enough to take the edge of it?
I am four years older than Mark, who, in turn, is four years older than David. The age difference was enough to take out the sibling rivalry as, growing up, we competed in different age groups.
As juniors, we did have a lot of fun together playing imaginary Wimbledon, US Open, French and Australian Open finals in the back yard.
As adults, there was one year where all three of us were in the New Zealand Davis Cup team, but even then there was no rivalry.
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You had a hugely successful junior career: making Number 1, winning Junior Wimbledon, making the US Open Final. Could you tell us a little more?
When I was growing up in New Zealand, the only contact I had with what was going on in the international junior tennis world was via my subscription to a US publication called World Tennis. By the time I was travelling full time at 17, I started playing all the juniors whose results I had followed from the time I was nine or ten. Even though I had never seen them, I felt I knew them.
Many of the top juniors I played around that time went on to become the number one players in their own countries. Ricardo Ycaza became number one in Ecuador. Jose Luis Clerc became number one in Argentina, Heinz Gunthardt became number one in Switzerland, and Shlomo Glickstein became number one in Israel. Yannick Noah became number one in France, and Leo Palin became number one in Finland. There were others like Brad Drewett (Australia) and Howard Schoenfield (US) who also went on to win pro tournaments.
As for turning pro, I had to make the choice between going straight into the pros or going to college. At 18, I was offered a full scholarship to UCLA, which was a major powerhouse in US tennis, with many of their players developing into hugely successful pros. As I was already starting to regularly beat players in the top 100, I decided to bypass college and go straight from the juniors on to the pro tour.
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When you were growing up and coming through the ranks, which particular pros did you enjoy watching or following and secondly, what was the coverage like in New Zealand back in the 60s/70s?
Because of limited TV coverage and no internet, I followed the game mainly through print. Although occasionally I did get to see a delayed telecast of a Wimbledon Final (in black and white).
In the 60’s and early 70’s, Australian and US players were ruling the tennis world, so one of the best memories I have is seeing live for the first time all the great players play in Auckland, New Zealand, in 1969 when I was 11 years old. It was one of the world’s first ever Open tournaments, and I saw Rod Laver, Tony Roche, John Newcombe, Pancho Gonzalez, Billie Jean King, Margaret Court, and many other top players. The tournament had such a profound impact on me that I made the conscious decision to make tennis my life.
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In the current era, we’re seeing junior players take a little longer to make an impact on the pro circuit. You turned pro in 1975. Could you describe how easy or difficult you found it to make the transition?
In my era, there were far fewer lower-level pro tournaments, and, subsequently, far fewer players. Imagine if, today, 75 per cent of the futures and challengers events were discontinued. You would see an immediate drop in the number of players pursuing a pro career as there wouldn’t be enough early opportunities to support them. I cannot tell you how many ambitious junior players in my time would have liked to chase a pro career, but weren’t able to as there just weren’t enough tournaments around.
In the seventies, it would take a really promising junior player approximately two to three years to make the transition from juniors into the pros. In my case it took me a year. I won a number of what were then called satellite tournaments, and qualified for pretty much every major tournament I entered.
My first big breakthrough was when I was twenty. I beat a number of seeded players to make the final of the South Australian Championships in Adelaide, losing to Tim Gullikson in five sets in the final. Today, because of the huge number of tournaments and the far greater number of players attempting the transition, on average, the process usually takes much longer.
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The late 70s and early 80s are regarded as a golden age in tennis, and you were mixing it with the likes of Borg, McEnroe, Connors, Lendl. Could you give us a few words on each of those players in respect of matches played and their general aura?
I first saw Bjorn play in Auckland in 1974. He was 17 and was already beating all the best players in the world. Aside from his age, what was extraordinary about his game is that it was unique. To see a young player revolutionizing the game with such a radically different style from the traditional serve & volley game played by virtually all the top players was astonishing. Here was a guy using a semi-western grip, staying at the baseline on grass courts, and beating the net rushers with their eastern and continental grips. The contrast in playing styles was extraordinary.
I saw John play for the first time at Wimbledon when he was 17. He was playing an early round at Wimbledon against a highly respected German pro, Karl Meiler, who was also a very competent grass court player. John tore him apart. Like Bjorn’s game, John’s game was unique. But it was unique in a very different way. Bjorn was all about zero emotion, patience, determination, predictability, heavy topspin, passing shots, defence, and counterpunching. John was all about volatility and super charged emotion, creativity, initiation, variety, unpredictability, short rallies, and an unusual combination of aggression and deft touch.
I saw Jimmy play for the first time in 1974, at Wimbledon, the same year I saw Bjorn play. He won that year beating the 39-year-old Ken Rosewall in the final. Jimmy’s game was also in a category of its own. He was an incredibly exciting slugger, who hit flat, hard, accurate, and penetrating groundstrokes that pinned his opponents in the corners. He would also come in to the net to finish points with volleys that were more like drives. This was in contrast to the traditional, compact volleys of players such as Rod Laver, John Newcombe, and Tony Roche of the previous era.
Ivan joined the tour when I was already established as a pro. He had more power than Bjorn, John, and Jimmy. His game was built upon a monstrous forehand that he hit with a reasonable amount of topspin, but at a much lower trajectory than Bjorn’s. Ivan also had a very accurate and hard first serve backed up by a deep and effective well-placed second serve. He also had a fantastic down-the-line backhand passing shot, which was underrated because of the obvious strength of his forehand. His game was that of an aggressive baseliner, who was hugely ambitious and competitive.
I played each of them at different times in my career: Bjorn in the quarterfinals in the Swedish Open; John three times — in the finals of Cincinnati, the semifinals of Queens, and the final of Wimbledon; Jimmy at Wimbledon; and Ivan a number of times, including the finals of the German Indoor Championships in Stuttgart.
At the time, all four of them were internationally recognizable superstars. In that era, the massive publicity that tennis received and the subsequent public interest in the game and the players was truly phenomenal.
It was a time when tennis players were accorded rock star status; a time where the late Vitas Gerulaitis, a charismatic, flamboyant personality, would turn heads everywhere he went, but especially in his home town of New York when driving his canary yellow, convertible Rolls Royce in the middle of Manhattan, perhaps on his way to or from the infamous Studio 54.
It was a time when Bjorn Borg emerged as a 17-year-old superstar who required heavy police protection at Wimbledon to prevent crazed throngs of teenage girls from mobbing him. In one incident, he was attacked on his way to the Wimbledon Village by hundreds of young girls who had him pinned to the ground for a good fifteen minutes before help arrived.
It was a time when, asked about his chances of winning the US Open, Jimmy replied, “Well, put it this way: there are 127 losers here … and me.” Jimmy won. Yes, it truly was a golden era, and I loved every minute that I was a part of it.
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Wimbledon 1983. You were unseeded and went all the way to the final. Before we touch on the final with McEnroe, could you give your own overview on your progression through the tournament.
My first round match was against Steve Denton, the 9th seed. Steve had a gigantic serve. In fact, it was so big, he hit 13 aces in a row in a doubles match in 1982 at the Stockholm Open against Frew McMillen and Sandy Mayer. I had just lost to him in a tight match at Queens two weeks before Wimbledon, so it wasn’t an ideal draw. He felt the same way. I ended up winning the match in a long five setter, 6-4, 4-6, 7-6, 4-6, 6-3. The turning point came in the 3rd set breaker. I was fitter than Steve so I knew that the longer the match went, the more it favored me. That turned out to be correct as I felt Steve faded a little in the fifth set.
In the second round, I beat Brod Dyke in three sets. Brod was a competent grass courter, who had beaten Guy Forget, the Frenchman, in the first round. I won 7-6, 6-1, 6-3. After a tight first set, in which we both had chances, I won the next two sets comfortably.
In the third round, I played Mike Bauer, who was a very dangerous, aggressive player. Mike had beaten Jimmy Connors earlier that year in Palm Springs. As it happened, Mike beat me in the same tournament in the next round. Obviously, I had a healthy respect for his ability. Mike, like Steve Denton, had a big serve and an aggressive game. The shape of the match was very similar to the one against Denton in the first round. I won 6-4, 3-6, 7-5, 6-7, 6-4. I had a break in the fourth but wasn’t able to close it out. Next thing, I’m down 0-2 in the fifth with Mike playing really well and things looking grim. I was told after the match that at this stage I switched gears. I can still remember the relief I felt after winning the match as it easily could have gone the other way.
At this stage of the tournament, the press starts taking a closer look at who is left in. I had started to generate much interest back in New Zealand with good luck telegrams flooding in. But I still wasn’t generating as much publicity as my next opponent, Nduka Odizor, a charismatic Nigerian with an unusual tennis background. He had beaten Guillermo Vilas on his way to the 16’s. Subsequently, he was receiving a huge amount of media attention. This suited me fine. What didn’t suit me was that I had a 100 percent sleepless night the evening before I played him. Let me tell you, the tantalizing prospect of making the Wimbledon quarters and beyond was more than exciting. So exciting, I didn’t get a wink’s sleep. Here was the dilemma: Did I stick to my one hour 10:00 A.M. warm up routine? Or did I forget about warming up and instead try and catch some morning sleep to make up for that which I didn’t get? I chose to practice. But I did manage to catch about 1 1/2 hours sleep on a bed of towels in one of the cubicles in the Wimbledon locker room.
Feeling like death, I served first and, wouldn’t you know it, “Duke” hit three clean winners on his first three returns, 0-40 in the first game. After that, whatever tiredness I felt just disappeared. I won 6-1, 6-3, 6-3 in less than 1 1/2 hours. I was now starting to see the ball like a football.
In the quarters, I had to play Mel Purcell, a very competitive American with a tricky, unpredictable game. He was extremely quick, was equally comfortable at the net as at the baseline, and he would make it difficult to get in any sort of rhythm. The first set was an up and down affair, and one which I felt I should have won had I capitalized on a couple of chances. After losing the first set 6-7, I played an almost flawless second set, winning it 6-0. I followed that by winning a tight 3rd set, 6-4, and then, after blowing a match point at 5-4 in the 4th, I won the set in a breaker for a 6-7, 6-0, 6-4, 7-6 win that put me into the semifinals.
By this time, I was not only on the front pages in New Zealand, but also in England. Everywhere I went, people recognized me. Whether it was asking for an autograph, wanting to take a picture with me, or just staring, people knew me everywhere I went. Although clearly this was not usual for me, it was not altogether unusual either as, being a recognizable figure in New Zealand, I was used to this type of attention, just not on such a scale.
Further, I was now receiving an enormous amount of fan mail and telegrams. I was literally receiving hundreds of them each day. The support was incredible. I would arrive at the courts, and my locker, which was large, would be full of mail from top to bottom. I made a point of reading every one of them. They served as motivational fuel.
By the time I had to play Kevin Curren in the semis, I was ready. I was now two matches away from winning the greatest tournament in the world. The tournament that my brothers and I, when we were growing up, would play the imaginary final of in the backyard. It was the tournament that I would stay up all night to listen to on the radio when I was a kid in New Zealand. It was the tournament where I had won the junior title eight years earlier. It was a dream two matches away from becoming a reality.
Kevin was Steve Denton’s doubles partner. They shared the same coach, Warren Jacques, a very savvy Australian who was one of the best coaches in the world. Having watched me play five sets against Steve, Warren knew my game inside out. Further, Kevin had beaten Jimmy Connors in the round of 16, so was obviously confident and in great form. I was also very confident and playing well. It was one of those matches that both of us thought he could win.
Kevin’s serve was his biggest weapon. I had trouble adjusting in the first set, in which there were no breaks, with Kevin winning the tiebreaker 7-3. As I slowly got more of a feel for his serve, I won the next two sets 6-4, 7-6. Early in the fourth, I started to get the better of him; however, he came back strongly, and, just like in the Bauer match, I quickly found myself down a break in the fifth. This time it’s 0-3 and I’m at break point to go down 0-4. Then things shifted my way. At 2-3, after five deuces, I pulled level at 3-3. We both held until 6-6. I then won four points in a row to break him to love.
But serving it out wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. I had to fight back from 15-40 and then save another break point (with a diving forehand volley) before reaching my first match point. Before I served that point, I looked up at Tony Roche, my coach, and Jeff Simpson, my travelling coach, in the players’ box. It was to acknowledge their contribution to the role they had played in getting me to a Wimbledon final. When Kevin’s return went wide into the alley, for the first (and only) time in my career, I lifted my hands in triumph. The feeling of making a Wimbledon final was truly indescribable.
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The final. Centre Court Wimbledon. How did you prepare for the match after the gruelling Curren semi? And also your thoughts on the match itself, and a certain JP McEnroe?
After the semifinal, which finished around 9:00 P.M., I had just over 36 hours to prepare for the final against John. I was staying in the city, so by the time I arrived back at my hotel in Kensington, it was very late. The next morning, I headed back to Wimbledon to stick to my daily routine, which involved a 10:00 am practice and then, on days when I didn’t have a match, I would practice again in the afternoon.
Chris Lewis and John McEnroe Wimbledon
The night before the final, I had dinner with Tony Roche and his wife, Sue, and a few friends. However, behind the scenes, there was much going on. Back in New Zealand, my making the Wimbledon final dominated the news. After the semifinal against Curren, I received a call from the Prime Minister of New Zealand, Sir Robert Muldoon, who congratulated me and wished me the best for the final. I asked him if he had any advice for me, and he said, “Yes, just keep doing what you’ve been doing, and you’ll be fine!”
Unbeknown to me, my good friend, Paul McNamee, called my parents in Auckland and offered to arrange for them to fly to London so they could watch the final live. As it turned out, they didn’t come because there was a good chance that any delay would have meant them missing the final completely. The number of congratulatory telegrams that were streaming in were of biblical flood proportions. In fact, I was told by British Telecom that I had received more cables than any other player in the history of the tournament. When I arrived back at my hotel, there were countless messages from the press, who were trying to get hold of me. Everywhere I went, there was no escape from the attention I was receiving.
On the morning of the final, I had an early breakfast at the hotel, and then headed out to the courts in a Wimbledon courtesy car. I had my regular practice at 10:00 A.M. with Jeff Simpson, my travelling coach, and then spent the next couple of hours at Jeff’s apartment in Wimbledon where I started mentally preparing for the final.
I had played John on two previous occasions: the first, two years earlier in the final of Cincinnati, and the second, a year earlier, in the semis of Queens. In Cincinnati, it was a competitive match, which I lost 6-4 6-3. The thing I remember most about the match was that I had far more breakpoints than John, but was unable to convert a single one. John had two breakpoints — one in each set — and that was all he needed. In the semis of Queens a year earlier, he had beaten me badly.
A couple of weeks before Wimbledon, I had also practiced with John at Queens. Unlike the intensely fierce competitor he was in matches, John was a notoriously casual player on the practice court. Needless to say, as part of my mental preparation for the final, I visualized the outcome of the points that we had when I was practicing with him at Queens.
After six tough matches over the previous twelve days, three of them having gone the full, five-set distance, I wasn’t in the slightest bit physically or mentally tired. The final was now only a short time away, and the reality of playing on centre court at the most famous tennis stadium in the world against one of the greatest grass court players in tennis history in front of a global audience of over 200 million people tends to get your attention.
Immediately before the match, John and I were in the center court ante-room for about five minutes. For those five minutes, there was dead silence while both of us contemplated what lay ahead. The moment then arrived. We walked out onto the court to a massive ovation. The moment was surreal. I had an acute awareness of everything that was going on. The sense of occasion and the effect it has is something that needs to be experienced to really be understood. I was fortunate to have had Tony Roche as a coach and mentor for the previous two years. Tony was a truly great player, and was — and is — one of the most successful coaches in the game. He is even more impressive as a person. Having experienced the game at every level, including winning a Grand Slam, Tony’s advice and knowledge meant that there were no surprises for me. He had experienced everything that I was now feeling, and he had prepared me for it.
Hot off winning the semifinal and the five matches before that, and having trained as hard as anybody in the game for seven or eight years, I felt that making a Wimbledon final was something that I had not only earned, but also deserved. I had always — and still do — believed that you get out of something what you put into it. It appeals to my sense of justice.
It was now time to play. Walking onto the court to a tremendous ovation, I was acutely aware of my surroundings. It was if time were standing still. In the warm up, it felt as though everything was happening in slow motion, and that there was an importance attached to every ball that was hit. Absolutely surreal.
I served the first game. I can’t remember the exact point score, but I hit a mediocre mid-court volley from which I expected a passing shot. I was wrong. John hit the ball as hard as he could straight at me. The intention was to rattle me, to set the scene for later on by impressing on me that he wasn’t necessarily going to go for passes at every opportunity. I was fully aware of this. But what was really irritating was that in the course of reflexing the ball back for a winner, my racquet came into hard contact with the ground, cracking it badly. It was the racquet with which I had played every point of the tournament. I’d made a point of stringing it after every match in preparedness for the next one. Not for superstitious reasons, but for an entirely logical one; namely, all the racquets in those days were slightly different. Racquet customization hadn’t yet become the norm, so I liked the familiarity of playing with a racquet that was identical to the one I’d played with in the previous match.
Now, I don’t bring this up to suggest that it had the slightest impact on the match — it didn’t. John was just too good. Watching John play from the stands was one thing, playing against him was another. He was a tennis genius. He had the ability to do things with the ball that no player before, during, or since has been able to do. His ability to “hold” the ball was astonishing. I was fast with good anticipation, but so many times John would have me thinking in one direction and then he would hit in the other direction. He would hit balls that appeared to be behind him for crosscourt winners, he would look as though he was serving out wide and then hit down the “T”, he would set up to play what suggested a deep, penetrating volley and then hit a feather-like drop volley with the deftest touch. He was incredibly difficult to read.
After losing the match, I was disappointed, but only to a point. In a deeper sense, I had the satisfaction of knowing that my preparation and my commitment were the maximum possible. I was able to look back on the tournament without a single regret. I felt I had extracted the maximum amount possible from my game and that I’d expended every last ounce of effort attempting to win the tournament. Thirty years later, if I had the opportunity to do the same thing all over again, attitudinally speaking, I wouldn’t change a thing. Those two weeks were an unbelievable experience, and, as John Newcombe said to me one evening over dinner, “You really get to know yourself very well playing in a Wimbledon final.” He was right.
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Talking of McEnroe, Serve and Volley seems to have died a death in the modern era. What do you think the main reasons you’d attribute this to?
A number of factors, the main ones being:
Grips…The trend (started by Borg) toward the semi-western/western grips (unnatural to volley with)
Prevalence of two handed backhands (incompatible with backhand volley)
Slice backhand quite often not taught anymore, or if it is, it is taught badly (slice backhand/backhand volley go hand in hand.)
For juniors, lighter, far more powerful racquets make finishing a point with aggressive groundstrokes far easier and less risky than venturing to the net to close out a point (less incentive to develop approaches & volleys at a young age)
Strings…Luxilon and its equivalents allowing players to take giant swings, yet still able to maintain control of their shots (making it easier to pass & making it even more difficult to come to the net for fear of being passed)
Generally speaking, for a number of years, junior development coaches (many of whom now can’t volley themselves) have devoted far less time to teaching volley technique than in the past (far fewer junior players developing competent volleys).
Aside from the introduction of slower bouncing courts, there’s also been examples of the introduction of higher bouncing surfaces like Rebound Ace, a surface that was previously used at the Australian Open (far more difficult to hit a penetrating, low bouncing volley). In Australia, the impact of digging up most of the grass courts around the country had to have a massive impact on the way tennis is now played there.
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Your thoughts on the modern era? Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, Murray, and the game in general?
Projecting ahead, I wonder if thirty years from now the game will have changed as much as it has in the previous thirty.
In 2043, will we be looking back at today’s top players of Federer, Nadal, Djokovic, and Murray in the same way we now look back at Connors, McEnroe, Borg, and Lendl? I’m sure we will. It’s always fascinating to compare players of one era with players of a previous era.
In making such comparisons, I’m always asked how yesterday’s players would measure up against today’s players. How would McEnroe do against Nadal? How would Borg do against Djokovic? How would Navratilova do against Williams?
While it’s always fun to speculate, the answer comes down to a single word — context. The conditions that existed in the seventies and eighties were so different to the conditions that prevail today. The racquets, the strings, the courts, and the balls are so dramatically different that to attempt a comparison on an absolute basis is an exercise in futility.
To do so requires that you completely drop the context of each era’s unique circumstances, which is then the equivalent of attempting to compare an apple with an orange.
Of course, it is possible to measure such things as number of Grand Slams won, but then you have to factor in such things as two-time Grand Slam winner, Rod Laver, being banned from six years worth of Grand Slams during what were the best years of his career.
Having said all that, I do think that, today, we are seeing a particularly strong generation of players.
What Federer has achieved during his career is extraordinary. His athleticism, creativity, and all-around talent are out of this world. He has that innate ability to make everything look effortless. Outwardly, he doesn’t appear to possess the type of killer instinct required to dominate for so long in a confrontational, individualistic sport like tennis, but underneath the surface, there has to be a certain amount of ruthlessness that he never lets the public see.
On the other hand, when it comes to outwardly projecting a competitive streak a mile wide, Nadal is one of the game’s pin-up boys. He exemplifies the driven, hard-working individual with a steely determination and a will of iron. A predominantly one-dimensional style of player, Nadal has been the perfect contrast to and rival of Federer in a similar way that Borg was to McEnroe. As individuals, both Federer and Nadal have been great for the game. Together, they have been even better.
I’ve always thought that tennis has the most appeal to those who have very individualistic personalities. Not in every case; however, certainly in most cases. For instance, take Andy Murray. I don’t know him, but he has an undeniably individualistic approach to the game. A unique personality with a unique game, neither of which fits the standard mold. I think getting together with Ivan Lendl was a masterful idea. My guess is that there would only be a handful of people in the world with both the tennis expertise and the strength of character to earn the respect of Andy Murray. Ivan Lendl is one of them. Murray has an immense tennis IQ. He reads the game incredibly well, but has an instinctive tendency to counter rather than initiate. I think the more that balance continues to shift towards initiation and aggression, and away from reaction and defense, the better he is going to do.
As for Djokovic, he is brilliance personified. He has a formidable game with nothing that can be exploited. An incredibly good mover, impressive serve, fantastic return, great in the middle of the rally, equally good at defending and attacking — he’s almost the complete player. He’s the sort of player that really makes you wonder where the game can go from here.
Which brings me to my next point. The skill that’s required to play at the level of Federer, Nadal, Murray, and Djokovic is beyond belief. Further, when you look closely at the skill level of any of the players in the top 100, while not at the level of the greats, it is still unbelievably high. As a general proposition, given the depth and strength of today’s game, I think that there is a marked imbalance between the demand for a rewarding career and the supply of such. Outside of the top few players, who are rewarded fairly, I think there should be more players who are able to make a really good living from the game.
Of all the thousands of talented young players who want to pursue a tennis career, the percentage who will be successful is less than minuscule. There are more players playing than ever before, and even though there are far more international junior tournaments and entry level pro events than there were in my day, I don’t think there are any more players today making a good living compared to when I was playing.
Not for a second am I suggesting that the answer is an egalitarian approach whereby prize money is taken from those ranked higher and distributed to those ranked lower. The top players deserve every cent they make. My contention is that the number 100 ranked player, who has acquired an incredibly high level of skill, should be making much more.
At the end of the day, though, tennis, like any sport or business, is market driven. But I think the market gives tennis and tennis players a raw deal. When you compare the level of skill of those in team sports with the level of skill of tennis players, and then compare the average salaries of each, I think that it amounts to a triumph for mediocrity. I put it down to the fact that the average person just doesn’t have the ability to evaluate properly the enormous achievement of a tennis player ranked 100 in the world.
To me, it’s almost as much as an injustice as the latest rap star having far greater appeal than the musical virtuoso whose genius goes virtually unnoticed by the lumpen masses. If there was anything that was in my power to change, I would love to be able to provide more careers to more players by generating more spectator interest in the sport. Imagine if tennis had as much appeal to the average Joe as mindless video games do. But given the state of the culture today, there’s about as much chance of that as today’s equivalent of a Mozart having wider appeal than Justin Bieber. In other words, none.
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Chris, what are you up to these days?
I’m living in California and own Tennis-Experts, which is located in Irvine. Our store — The Woodbridge Tennis Club Pro Shop — has served the community for the last 16 years. I know what a difference equipment can make to your game. My livelihood depended on it. And it still does today.
I grew up playing with classic racquets like the wooden Wilson Jack Kramer Pro Staff. I was in the stands when Jimmy Connors used his aluminum Wilson T2000 to beat Ken Rosewall in the 1974 Wimbledon Final. I was playing the Wimbledon Junior final the following year in 1975 (I won) at the same time Arthur Ashe used his famous Head Competition composite racquet to beat Jimmy Connors in the Men’s Final.
I was right in the middle of the radical technological changes that changed the game in the early eighties. As it turned out, I was the first male player to reach a Grand Slam final with an oversize racquet, the Prince Original Graphite, a modern classic that is still made and sold today (yes, right here in this store) — and I was also one of the first players to wear custom-made grass court shoes at Wimbledon. (Bjorn Borg was the first.)
The site is e-commerce enabled. You can buy all the gear online. It’s packed with a wide range of kit: racquets, strings, bags, balls, shoes, and much much more. With Chris’s background, you will know you are in very safe hands!
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Chris, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you for being so very generous with your time.
All roads point to West Virginia for tennis legends Pete Sampras, John McEnroe and Ivan Lendl as they confirmed participation in the White Sulphur Springs exhibition at the Greenbier Resort.
The trio will be joined by Tommy Haas – still active on the ATP circuit and currently enjoying a rich vein of form.
Haas will face off against 14 time major titleist Sampras, whilst McEnroe will renew hostilities with old adversary Lendl.
The following day will see a doubles match between the quartet.
It is the second successive year that Sampras and McEnroe have been invited to the tournamount.
The two day exhibition is scheduled to begin on the 21 September.
