By Karen Crouse, Palm Beach Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
NEW YORK -- Pete Sampras kept saying it would be no big deal, inhabiting Arthur Ashe Stadium one final time. For more than a decade, the court had been his version of a summer home in the Hamptons, a place to which he could repair every August to nourish his soul and revitalize his spirit.
Eight times in 14 visits to Flushing Meadows, Sampras graced the U.S. Open final. Five times he wore the crown. He had run down Andre Agassi's returns and run Michael Chang ragged. So, really, he kept telling himself, how hard could it be to go out there and just walk away?
"I feel like I'm going back to my house," Sampras said Monday night, some three hours before he would announce his retirement in a 25-minute ceremony.
Sampras kept telling himself he could do this, that he would be in friendly confines. "I'm not addressing Congress," he quipped. "I'm addressing fans of tennis and fans of myself."
After stringing together 14 Grand Slam titles and six consecutive seasons at No. 1, how difficult would it be string together a few sentences among friends? It wasn't as if Sampras was President Bush addressing the U.N. Assembly or the Dixie Chicks performing at a Republican fund-raiser or even Serena Williams returning to Roland Garros.
"I'm glad I'm in New York," Sampras said. "It's a final goodbye for me. It's closure." Sampras' upper lip was stiff. He was determined to say goodbye without crying. Who was he kidding? As soon as Sampras walked onto center court to a standing ovation, his upper lip began quivering.
The ovation lasted nearly three minutes, long enough for Sampras' emotions to pool in his eyes and spill down his cheeks.
He shut his eyes and tried to squeeze the tears dry. He shifted his weight from one foot to another. His body was swaying and so were his emotions. Sampras was going back and forth between joy and sadness.
"Saying goodbye is not easy," Sampras said, "but I know it's time in my heart."
Sampras thanked his family and the fans, he delivered an oral bouquet to his wife, Bridgette Wilson. Then he took the couple's 9-month-old son, Christian, from Wilson's arms and carried him like he had so many silver chalices and gold plates since 1990 in one final victory lap.
He never looked more contented.
You can envy Sampras for his beautiful wife and beautiful house in the Hollywood Hills. You can envy him for his tee times at the most exclusive golf courses and his standing reservations at the most exclusive restaurants.
You can envy Sampras for being 32 and having the luxury to do whatever he pleases for the rest of his life.
But then you'd be guilty of not seeing the fullness of his life for his wealth.
Sampras looked radiant in his return to tennis' grand stage. His year away from the pro circuit has been good for him in a way that many of his peers, sadly, never will be able to grasp.
So many athletes don't know how to say when. They're hooked on competition or need the adulation to plug leaks in their souls or look to fame and fortune for warmth on cold, dark nights. I play, they philosophize, therefore I am.
Sampras is different. He left the rat race after the most satisfying win of his career and found life's ultimate prize: peace of mind.
"I'm a hundred percent content with everything I've done," Sampras said before the public ceremony. He was seated in the main interview room, looking more relaxed than he ever did all the years he was No. 1.
Sampras was addressing a roomful of reporters for the first time since his victory against Agassi in the final here last year. Sampras disappeared from view after that. He made himself as scarce as another sporting legend, Joe DiMaggio, once had.
He didn't know it at the time but he was ready for his fade-out.
"I thought about (retirement) a little bit during the two weeks, but I never realistically thought I was going to win and stop," Sampras said. "Retirement is a process. It's not something you wake up one day and say, 'I'm retired.' You need to go through all the emotions, and I did that."
The end of an athlete's career is a kind of death. So it makes sense that Sampras had to experience the gamut of emotions before arriving at acceptance.
Sampras being Sampras, he didn't see the need to broadcast his retirement. Unlike the rest of us, he never saw himself as anything special. The farthest out on a limb he'd go Monday in predicting his legacy is this: "I loved playing the game. Felt like I was pretty good at it."
Pretty good? It says here his seven Wimbledon titles and six successive years at No. 1 never will be duplicated. Both required a single-mindedness that Sampras himself couldn't maintain after he married Wilson.
As he found contentment in his personal life, he no longer needed tennis to fill him up. He had moved on. Tennis will have a harder time doing the same.
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Sampras Closes Out Career at U.S. Open
At 32, He Makes His Retirement Official
By Rachel Nichols, Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
FLUSHING MEADOWS, N.Y., Aug. 25 -- They tried to make it as big as they could at the U.S. Open tonight, with a cascade of flags and a host of highlights and a Broadway singer serenading him at mid-court. They tried to give Pete Sampras a send-off in proper proportion to his mammoth career, but that was an impossible mission, and besides, all the pomp and circumstance in the world was no match for the simple act of gratitude performed by the fans at Arthur Ashe Stadium.
One by one, they rose to clap on his behalf, the applause swelling to such a crescendo Sampras, 32, was nearly swept off the court. A minute into the standing ovation, he started to quietly weep. Two minutes in, he broke down completely, using one hand to cover his face and the other to acknowledge the crowd.
"This is pretty overwhelming; I'm pretty touched," he said a few minutes later, after he had regained his composure. He played his last match nearly a year ago -- a stunning victory over longtime rival Andre Agassi to win the title here -- but he had only decided to officially retire in the last week, and tonight was his tribute.
There was warmth. On a video screen, Agassi said Sampras was "without a doubt the best I ever played."
There was wit. Boris Becker talked of Sampras's record seven Wimbledon titles and asked, "Remember, before you were around, I used to own that place? I think a couple times, I called it my house, my home, but obviously, seven times later, you stole my keys."
There was also a bit of playful skepticism, as John McEnroe said, "I'm going to give you one last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?"
He was. While some had called his year-long dance with retirement self-indulgent, it was in fact a necessary part of his letting go of the game.
Sampras has thought of himself as a tennis player since the age of 7. How could anyone have expected him to just wake up one day and renounce his identity?
"It's a process, retirement -- you need to go through all the emotions," he said. "I was always thinking I might play Wimbledon again, but once I started doing some practicing and training and my heart wasn't in it, I knew that it was time."
It was Open organizers who approached him about making his decision official; this was the tournament, after all, where he had first ripped his way into the American consciousness, his saucer-like eyes and impish pile of curls belying a serve that could slice the very heart out of an opponent's game.
Over the years, he'd offer occasional glimpses of a wry wit, but more often he'd wrap his personality in Teflon, preferring instead to focus all his energy on his racket. By the time he was through, he'd piled up a record 14 Grand Slams, a record six years at No. 1 and a record $43 million in prize money, as well as a record reputation for stoicism.
Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to plant seeds of emotion that bore fruit in the second half of his career. Fans cried with him when his coach, Tim Gullikson, died in 1995. They heaved sighs of relief for him a year later when he battled through nausea and dehydration in a memorable U.S. Open quarterfinal, and in the summer of 2000, they clapped and danced in the fading light as he scooped up his seventh title at the All England club.
By the time he beat Agassi here last year, claiming his final Grand Slam after nearly two years of arid desperation, they were stomping and screaming and begging him not to leave, and tonight they did more of the same.
But as he carried his 9-month-old son, Christian, on one last turn around the stadium, both the man and the game he was leaving behind seemed ready for the transition. Australian Lleyton Hewitt would soon take the court for his first-round match; rising American Mardy Fish had already won his in straight sets. Andy Roddick, Jennifer Capriati and Agassi were all on the schedule for Tuesday, with many more matches to follow.
Sampras, meantime, simply reminisced. He talked of his rivalry with Agassi and how "five, ten years down the road, I can see us having Christmas together." He talked about the perks of fame -- "I got to play the great golf courses of the country, and I've gotten into a lot of restaurants at the last minute," he said -- and his newfound skill at changing diapers.
Through the night, the tears came back a few times, but as he held Christian more delicately than any trophy he'd ever won, it was clear he was finally ready.
"To say goodbye to it, to say I'm not going to play again, not going to be out here on this court, it's emotional," he said. "A part of me is still out there. But I'm also realistic in knowing that my time is done. I've done everything I can do. I'm at peace with stopping, and now it's time to move on."
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Sampras finally honored for legendary career
by Bob Foltman, Chicago Tribune
Monday, August 25, 2003
NEW YORK - Pete Sampras came to New York on Monday to be honored, which, in many ways is somewhat ironic.
Now, when he has decided that he has accomplished all there is as a tennis player and the challenge in life is now to be the best father he can be to son Christian and husband to wife Bridgette, the public decides to honor Sampras.
There were times during his incredible career when the reaction to Sampras' accomplishments was a collective shrug of the shoulders.
"Probably over time and history, they'll appreciate me more," Sampras said Monday of those that took his greatness for granted.
People like the underdog, and for so long Sampras was anything but, pushing himself year after year to finish the season No. 1 in the world - a feat he accomplished a record six straight seasons - or when he suffered physically playing and winning for his country in Davis Cup.
He didn't throw tantrums or wear his heart on his sleeve, the way past American icons like Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe did, and he wasn't flamboyant or search out the spotlight like his principal rival, Andre Agassi.
He was just Pete Sampras, not much different when he won his final Grand Slam title at age 31 than when he won his first when he was 19, both at the U.S. Open.
"That's one thing I'm proud of," he said. "I didn't change much over the years. I was true to myself. I didn't sell out for anybody."
It wasn't until Sampras no longer dominated that people started to warm up to him. With every loss between his Wimbledon championship in 2000 and his victory here last September to close out his career, it seemed as though people realized what they were missing.
"As I started losing, I started getting more fans," he said.
New York represents the bookends for Sampras career, and it's only fitting that any ceremony celebrating his career be held at Arthur Ashe Stadium. True to his personality, the idea was not Sampras'.
Sampras conceded that the United States Tennis Association approached him a few weeks ago and asked him to be part of a ceremony. One wonders whether Sampras would have made any official retirement announcement otherwise, preferring to just fade off, play golf and be with his family.
Twice in a press conference before Monday's ceremony, Sampras, once criticized for not showing enough emotion, fought back tears. First was when he said how hard it would be to stop doing something he's done since he was seven years old.
The second when he talked about how the way his parents raised him helped make him the champion he was.
He couldn't hold the tears back, though, when he was introduced to the crowd Monday night, which gave him an extended standing ovation.
"This is all pretty overwhelming," Sampras said after being feted by former competitors, McEnroe, Boris Becker and Jim Courier. "I'm going to miss playing here. I love playing in New York."
Sampras thanked many for contributing to his career, such as the late Tim Gullickson and his current coach Paul Annacone and his parents, brothers and sisters for "keeping me humble and keeping me grounded."
He then thanked Bridgette, who many blamed for his decline, for her support during his drought and then took a farewell walk around the court with his son in his arms.
"This is the last time I'm going to be here," he said. "It's hard to say goodbye."
Sampras said he knew "it was time for me to stop" a couple months before this past Wimbledon. After withdrawing from events, Sampras had started to train for the event he'd won seven times.
"Once I started that process of starting to practice, after three days, I was done," he said. "I just didn't want to practice. I didn't want to train. I didn't want to do everything you have to do. I feel like I did it all. I think that's when it hit me."
He ends his career with the record 14 Grand Slams titles and the record six straight seasons at No. 1 - the latter which may stand the longest. To many, he is the greatest player ever.
"I've done what I've done in the game," he said. "I feel like my game will match up against anybody. But to say I'm the greatest ever, I won't say that."
Maybe now, there are more who will.