by Sukhwant Basra, The Economic Times
Sunday, September 7, 2003
TIMES NEWS NETWORK[ SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 06, 2003 11:54:43 PM ]
Tennis� future seemed tethered to the baseline; right there under the heel of the mass produced double-fisted backhand. They said the game had morphed beyond the purview of the volleyer.
They also said that power deigned a new genre of player with extreme grips, pushy parents and the mandatory ability to churn aesthetically-challenged topspin groundstrokes hours on end. Somewhere beyond the mushrooming hardcourts and the spew of the graphite-laden bazookas, the spirit of the game quailed.
Then it chose the avatar of Pete Sampras. Records may stay or wither. Even though Slamming the tennis world 14 times ain�t going to be beaten tomorrow, next year or a decade hence, that ain�t what makes a name as incongruous as �Pete� revered wherever a rectangle measures 78X36 feet.
There�s more. Much more. Sampras played the classic game. He embodied the eternal, not a new-age fad. There was nothing revolutionary in his incisive r epertoire. Instead his greatness lay in raising the simple to a plane where it demanded reverence. Sampras showed us beautiful tennis. For a decade he stemmed the assault of the factory made player, transporting purists to an era that favoured craft over daft power. Perhaps we loved him even more because he refused to wear neon-coloured spandex.
At a time when his peers were amassing Mickey Mouse trophies in the juniors, Sampras was getting thrashed confronting the big boys on the men�s Tour. At the age of 16 he had the gall to flip to the elegant single handed backhand instead of the bread and butter double barrel.
Above all, he strutted around the net in the age of the graphite racquet. The portend was apparent: the boy was either mad or destined. When Andre Agassi�s father talked about hanging a ball over his crib to tune his reflexes and Monica Seles� spoke of the novel bio-mechanics of two-handed strokes it was heartening to hear that Georgia and Sam were unable to watch son Pete play as it made them too nervous. No ear rings, no jarring style statements and a mild mannered demeanour made our parents love Sampras as much as we did.
Off-court the fellow was just too regular. Like most of us. So very easy to identify with. That he cried when long standing coach Tim Gullikson succumbed to cancer and refused to part with his trusty Staff till the end of his playing days even when endorsment deals for glitzier new frames beckoned reflect a humanity that�s been sapped from the game by the monster of professionalism. Though he did not put Davis Cup duty over individual glory, he still reminded us of a time when the call of relationships had not dwindled in the jungle of money bags.
�I will never sit here and say I am the greatest ever. I�ve done what I�ve done in the game. I�ve won a number of majors- I think that�s kind of the answer to everything,� Sampras, wearing a black suit, said at his farewell during the US Open. This talk about being the greatest belittles many we have never seen .
If it helps, he was declared the best player for the last 25 years by a panel of 100 past players, journalists and tournament directors. Sampras adds: �I don�t know if there�s one best player of all time. I feel my game will match up to just about anybody. I played perfect tennis at times, in my mind.� And on court too.