Odyssey: The World of Greece
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Silent Knight
The Quiet Excellence of Pete Sampras

Restrained. Unemotional. Bland. Boring. These are just a few of the lackluster adjectives sports writers have used to describe Pete Sampras throughout his seven-year professional tennis career. And the Greek-American's easy victory at Wimbledon this July probably won't do much to change his sedate public image. Sampras whipped the opposition (one telling statistic: He won 116 of his 118 service games in the tournament) without breaking much of a sweat on the grass, showing much emotion to the fans, or saying much of anything to the line judges.

"I know I'm not Dave Letterman," Sampras deadpanned after his 6-4, 6-2, 6-4 spanking of Frenchman Cedric Pioline in the final. "But the way I am on the court is the way I've been my whole life, and it's the way I'll continue to be."

Right. In other words, he'll continue to dominate men's tennis in much the same way Michael Jordan rules the NBA -- with superior athleticism, sublime skills, damn-the-torpedoes competitiveness, and very few words. So, in addition to the usual drab modifiers, reporters are starting to call Sampras something considerably sexier: The Best Ever.

Some say that it's too early to tell. After all, Sampras doesn't turn 26 until August 12, and he's never won the French Open. Is it possible to compare the young standout to someone like the legendary Rod Laver, who won all four Grand Slam tournaments in a single year-twice? Boris Becker, whom Sampras booted from this year's Wimbledon, thinks so.

"I was fortunate enough to play with McEnroe, Connors, Lendl, even Borg a little bit. And for me, Pete was always the most complete player," the carrot-topped German says. "He had the power, he had the speed, he had the touch. I always felt he was the best player ever."

And the best will only get better, or so he says. "I really have no fear in the game," Sampras announced after Wimbledon. "I feel like I can improve and have another opportunity in a couple of months to win the US Open, and that's where I'm at." The strings on his racket hadn't even cooled, and Sampras was already talking about his next challenge. Michael Stich, another German tennis star, assesses why: "He only thinks about tennis and nothing else. That's the person he is, and that's great for him. He just focuses on tennis, day and night, and I think that's part of his success."

Playing to His Potential

Sampras's success includes nearly five consecutive years as the world's number-one ranked men's tennis player and 10 Grand Slam titles, just two shy of Roy Emerson's all-time record of 12. Sampras won his first major title, the US Open, at the gangly age of 19, defeating Ivan Lendl, John McEnroe, and Andre Agassi in the process. He has won Wimbledon three times in a row (from 1993 to 1995), captured the US Open crown four times (1990, 1993, 1995, and 1996), and taken the Australian Open title twice (1994 and 1997).

His achievements have been nothing short of remarkable -- and nothing less than what many expected of him. "I always remember my first coach, Pete Fischer, who was very, very critical, and who had big, big goals for me -- like, 'They're gonna compare you to Laver,'" Sampras tells me. "He said that when I was 13 or 14. I was like, 'Let's slow down here, I'm worried about winning the Pasadena Junior Tournament.'"

I spoke with Sampras at the Saddlebrook Resort, near Tampa, Florida. A sprawling complex with scores of tennis courts, two golf courses, and a zealous security team (it took me 40 minutes to get in -- "It's always like this for the dignitaries," Clem, the gatekeeper, told me), Saddlebrook is where Sampras trains. He lives a few miles away in a 5,000-square-foot home on another golf course.

"I always had the major tournaments in the back of my mind," Sampras continues. "When I turned pro I said 'I wanna win Wimbledon, I wanna win the US Open.' I was probably someone who just talked a lot and had big dreams. But now it's become reality -- I've won Wimbledons and US Opens. And I want to win more. Since I've tasted it, I want to taste it more."

That's his motivation. Sampras doesn't need to play tennis to pay the bills: He has already earned over $27 million from tournament victories alone, and the endorsements he's done for a range of products -- from Nike sneakers to milk -- have made him a similarly tidy sum. It's a mixture of drive and discipline that has taken him to, and should keep him at, the top. And it's of no consequence to him whatsoever if the media thinks his style could be spicier. "I guess it bothered me a little bit at first -- when I was 20, 21, they thought I was boring, that my game was boring," he says. "But I think that over time the media have appreciated kind of the way I play and the way I act, and respect it."

As Natural as Breathing

But Sampras wasn't always a model of concentration and focus. He credits his former coach, the late Tim Gullikson, with pushing him to take his game to a new level.

"Three or four years ago I was someone who didn't really practice that hard, I just kind of went through the motions. Tim had worked out with [Jimmy)] Connors for many years and said Connors would just go out and bust his butt for an hour and a half -- and then hit the golf course," Sampras says, pausing. "I was a little undisciplined, maybe a bit immature, and relied on my talent. Tim emphasized practicing hard, and quality time over quantity. I started practicing harder, and every couple of hours became a good couple of hours."

Aside from helping Sampras maximize his ability, Gullikson also became his pupil's closest confidant. "Tim was my best friend. At the start it was more of a coach-player thing; but over the past few years we spent a lot of time together. I told him things that I've never told anyone else."

Gullikson died of brain cancer in May of 1996. Throughout his mentor's battle with the disease, Sampras struggled to maintain his performance edge and just to keep it together. He both succeeded and failed: Many will remember Sampras's gutsy performance in the 1995 Australian Open. Despite having just learned about Gullikson's condition, Sampras played through the pain -- and through a torrent of tears -- in a quarterfinal match against fellow American Jim Courier, eventually emerging victorious.

While it has made him play harder, losing his closest friend has also made Sampras more philosophical about the role of tennis in his life. He admits that "1996 was tough. I had some distractions, I was kind of in mourning. I didn't care about tennis for the first time in a long time. It kind of put everything into perspective. Tennis is a great game, and I want to win every match I play. But eventually, when I'm 34, 35, the rest of my life starts. So these things," he starts and stops. "You kind of take a step back and it sobers you up."

At the same time, Sampras can take solace in the game he has mastered. "See, it's something I've done since I was eight. I'm very comfortable; when I pick up a racket and a ball, I know where the ball's going. When I play golf, I don't know where the ball is going," he laughs. "You know, I feel like I'm kind of in control. I'm the one that's either winning or losing. I'm not the guy that stays back and waits for the action to come to me. I'm the one that's being aggressive."

No kidding. Sampras's performance at this year's Wimbledon was a case study in the serve-and-volley game. Even Pioline, the grumpy Gaul who defiantly declared that Sampras is "not God" after his three-set thrashing, conceded that "He doesn't give you air.... You can't breathe against him." Mais oui, Sampras's arsenal of serves and shots generally leaves challengers huffing, puffing, and losing. "I can rely on different things if it's not going well in some. I have some options," Sampras understates.

And, after having worked for so long to develop those options, playing his game has become as natural as breathing. "Technique is pretty much out the window," Sampras says. "I was taught all the fundamentals very well at a very young age and now I just go out and play. It's all mental now, all reaction. It's not that complicated." Not for him, anyway. Much in the same way jazz musicians absorb tremendous amounts of theory in order to play improvised music, Sampras diligently learned every nuance of his sport in order to play it; he makes playing tennis look easy, just as Miles Davis made playing the trumpet sound easy.

True to form, though, Sampras downplays his yellow-ball virtuosity. "You know, anything that you've done for a lot of years, you're going to be pretty good at it," he offers. "People are amazed that I can serve 125 miles per hour on the line. I'm amazed that doctors can save lives."

All in the Family

But Sampras belongs in Ripley's Believe It or Not -- and, in one sense, he knows it. "It's just incredible, what's happened. My mom is from a small village near Sparta. She was very, very poor. She came to Canada at the age of 24, met my dad, and now is the mother of...me," he concludes. "It's just weird how things have worked out."

Nearly unfathomable is more like it. Sampras is the king of a sport that had no place at all in the collective consciousness of the Greek diaspora until he assumed the tennis throne. He's the most accomplished Greek athlete in the world today, yet there was no Hellenic precedent for his career.

Like many other young diaspora Greeks who are excelling in fields far removed from restaurants or shipping, Sampras was encouraged by his parents to cultivate his talent. "Tennis has been the priority ever since I was nine or 10," he intones. "My parents put up a lot of money -- and a lot of strain on the family -- to support my tennis. It was tough at times. You know, dad wanted to give me a chance, to see what I could do, and we got real lucky. I mean, it happened."

Sam and Georgia Sampras are famously averse to sharing the spotlight with their son, and they declined to be interviewed. They live in Los Angeles, where Pete (who was born in Washington D.C.) spent his formative years. Even though they "talk every other day, just about," with Pete, the Samprases hardly ever attend his matches. "They're parents, they're not really 'tennis parents,'" their son says. "They don't really feel like they need to be with me every week. They want me to win and love and support me, but it's not like other parents are with their young athletes."

And while his parents keep a low profile, they're still Greek parents. "You know, my mom's very overprotective, very overbearing of me, which is fine. I mean, I'm not a little boy anymore, but she'll be like that when I'm 45," Sampras chuckles. "She's feeding me, and I say 'I don't want any more,' and she keeps on putting food on my plate. It's typical."

Sampras has three siblings: Gus, 29, an executive at the International Management Group, a public-relations firm; Stella, 28, the head coach of the UCLA women's tennis team; and Marion, 23, who works for the Head Start program. All of them played tennis as kids, and, as Pete explains, their father was their first instructor: "He kind of taught us how to play when we were real young -- he read these tennis magazines and books."

Sam Sampras also is probably the person most directly responsible for his son's reserved on-court demeanor. "He was real strict," Sampras recalls. "I'd have my tantrums now and again; once, when I threw my racket...well, he wasn't real happy with that." Indeed he wasn't -- Sam threatened to stop backing his son if he ever threw his racket or acted up again. Needless to say, Pete quickly learned to keep his composure.

Invisible Champion

He has kept behaving. Sampras's hallmark courtesy has gained him the respect not only of many competitors, but also of legions of tennis fans. That's something very important to Sampras, who believes that he needs to set a good example for the game's younger devotees. "The most satisfying thing that someone could tell me is, 'You're a great role model for my kid,'" he asserts, leaning forward. "That feels like I'm making some sort of impact on people -- trying to act like a nice guy who goes out and plays and doesn't act like a jerk and throw his racket and be a prima donna -- which you see some athletes do. When a parent says 'You really act like a gentleman and I'm trying to get my kid to act like you,' that's great. I can't get a better compliment than that."

Sampras also believes that "there's a responsibility to give back to the game as far as charities and clinics for kids. You can't do everything, but you try to be as accessible as possible." He is on the board of the Tim and Tom Gullikson Foundation, a cancer-research fund, and also sponsors his own organization, Aces for Charity, the proceeds from which go out to a variety of non-profit groups and charities.

In staying so humble while achieving so much, Sampras indeed stands alone. Many sports critics rightly complain that today's athletes, by disobeying rules or dismissing decorum, are more interested in padding their bank accounts than in displaying true sportsmanship. Attitude pays: Anti-heroes like Dennis Rodman are far more popular than gentle giants like Karl Malone. For example, even though Sampras is far and away his sport's best, the feisty Andr? Agassi has a multi-year contract worth $100 million with Nike -- a contract much larger and longer than Sampras's.

Not that the relative anonymity stings Sampras, who maintains that "I'm just a normal guy." He prefers to keep things simple, to go out without being mobbed, and simply be himself. His oft-hyped rivalries with players like Agassi or Greek-Australian Mark Philipoussis are purely athletic: "You just leave it on the court," Sampras says. His latest relationship -- with the actress Kimberly Williams, best known for her roles in The Father of the Bride films -- will probably be as public as his six-year romance with Delaina Mulcahy was: not very public at all. No controversy. No gossip.

The First Greek Interview

So it surprises me when Sampras says he would like to visit Greece because "I'd be interested to see how I'd be recognized, or if I'd be recognized." He has never been to Greece, and if he comes, will learn that he is not well known at all in his ancestral homeland.

But Sampras makes no mistake about his ethnicity: "I'm Greek. People ask me what I am -- I'm Greek." He grew up going to church with his family, attending Greek school (he says he's forgotten what he learned; when his mother talks to him in Greek, "I'll understand some, but usually it's the tone of the voice"), and eating the requisite foods. Nevertheless, he leaves me wondering as to why his Aegean fame has crossed his mind; for Sampras, to put it mildly, lives in a very different world from his mainland Greek brethren.

It turns out that the idea first occurred to him it while he was Down Under. "I'll tell you, when I was in Australia, where there's a big Greek community, I felt a lot of support, got a lot of fan mail. I thought to myself, 'Maybe I'm pretty recognizable in Greece; it's strange I haven't done anything there.'"

It's not really that strange. Tennis isn't exactly the Greek national sport, and Sampras's unassuming persona can't possibly help get him noticed in a country where scandals and gossip are nectar and ambrosia for the masses. Whatever the reason, Greeks in Greece (and to some extent in the diaspora) have not claimed Sampras as one of their own. In fact, Sampras reveals to me that "this is the first Greek interview that I've done, and it's great. I've never done anything like this -- talking about something else besides tennis, which I'll always talk about."

He is also enthusiastic, to a point, about doing more with Greece in the future. "Absolutely. You know, I'm not really ready to go to Greece and start tennis, but I'm willing to help out however I can with the Greek community. I haven't been approached to really do much." At the very least, Pete Sampras is someone whom Greeks should be proud of -- not because they actively helped him succeed (they didn't), but because of the positive principles he represents, both on the court and off of it. He'll keep winning whether we cheer him on or not.

When it comes to basketball, everybody wants to be like Mike. When it comes to tennis, everybody wants to beat Pete. But, as he continues to accumulate Grand Slam trophies, Pete Sampras is making it clear that beating him is very hard to do. He dispatches opponents dispassionately; however, regardless of whether Sampras has any serious competition these days (not really), his mild manner belies a bona-fide fire in the belly to win and keep on winning. He's no shock jock, but a composed competitor who cares far less about publicity than staying at the top of his game -- and staying true to himself.