BY Aaron Wasserman, THE UNDERDOGS
published September 4, 2003, in THE PHOENIX
Which episode of Pete Sampras�s career should be considered the most triumphant? Single-handedly winning the 1995 Davis Cup for America? His scamper up the stands of Wimbledon�s Centre Court to find his parents, first-time audience members, after winning the 2000 final to break the record for most Grand Slam championships? The magical comeback at last year�s US Open, which concluded with an afternoon of unmatchable tennis against Andre Agassi for Sampras�s final tennis title? Or, the trying fortnight at the 1996 French Open when he won three five-set matches in five days, all while looking disconsolate on the sidelines as his coach Tim Gullickson remained in the States dying from cancer?
My nomination is Sampras�s 1996 US Open quarterfinal match against Alex Corretja. In the fifth-set tiebreaker, Sampras looked vulnerable, no, wounded; he staggered along the baseline between points, his eyes rolled back into his head and his shirt hung limply from his body as he leaned in to return serve. Then, mid-tiebreaker he wandered to the back wall hunched over his racket and puked everywhere. He returned to the court, won the tiebreaker, the match and the whole tournament. Remarkable.
Tennis�s episodic nature suits Sampras�s career arc well, but maybe his career can�t be fully appreciated unless viewed from a bird�s-eye perspective in order to absorb all the long-term accomplishments. He is the youngest male US Open champion; he had a 56-1 record and seven titles at Wimbledon in an eight-year period; he spent six consecutive years ranked the world�s best tennis player; and he won 14 Grand Slam championships, the most of any male.
How is it possible that some don�t consider Sampras to be the best tennis player ever? Some criticize his inability to win the French Open, whose red clay never suited Sampras�s game; some think the greats from an earlier generation, Rod Laver and Roy Emerson, would�ve won more if not for different rules regarding professional status. These arguments are merited, but flawed because Sampras played in an era in which every player is superbly conditioned and muscular, and the equipment so well designed it provides relatively mediocre players with unimaginable power. Most importantly, he played in an era in which opponents specialize in mastering different court surfaces, making it nearly impossible for any player to consistently win Grand Slam tournaments. Yet, Sampras defeated them all. His Grand Slam record is the only modern sports record � along with Joe DiMaggio�s 56-game hitting streak � that will never be broken.
Other critics even prefer Andre Agassi, Sampras�s main foe through his career, as the better player because Agassi was the more marketable one. This swipe is more perplexing because Sampras had the attributes to appeal to the mainstream, but no advertising executive ever found the correct approach to do so. Sampras�s serve-and-volley playing style possessed assembly-line efficiency: a thunderous serve followed by beautiful net-play � digging balls from his feet, lunges to his sides and short jumps to meet overhead smashes; points and opponents were controlled quickly. His modest court and interview mannerisms reflected a devoted work ethic. His lean, non-chiseled body type, panting open mouth, simple court attire and prominent bald spot represented the triumph of the everyman.
The retirement ceremony held last week in Sampras� honor was, like his career, classy. There were nice speeches from rivals, but also his infant son perched in his arms symbolizing the next direction of his life, and just in case anyone forgot about his regular status, a little paunch and lots of chest hair peeking through his grey collared-shirt. It was a respectful, but profoundly sad way to begin this year�s US Open. Whomever wins the male side of the US Open this weekend will deserve the title� with an inimitable New York City gruffness, it�s tennis� most challenging competition� but he will ultimately be an irrelevant footnote. For the past decade, for a player to even consider winning a Grand Slam or overtaking the top ranking, he had to worry about beating Sampras first. Now Sampras is gone and a large, empty shadow hangs over Flushing Meadows� tennis complex and the rest of the sport. His one-handed backhand, swooping forehand and picture-perfect serve down the service line are gone� probably forever, as Sampras has said in interviews comments like, �To shut it out [of my life] has been nice,� but here�s to hoping he rediscovers that competitive fire. Please come back soon, Pete. Remind everyone that you are an athletic treasure.