SI.com
August 21, 2003
Silent warrior
By David Higdon

Reflecting on Sampras' lonely, painful and glorious career

Inscribed above the entry to Wimbledon's venerable Centre Court, the hallowed green lawn that seven-time champion Pete Sampras turned into his own private backyard, is a quote from Rudyard Kipling:

"If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two imposters just the same."

No verse could more accurately reflect the route to greatness undertaken by Pete Sampras. He will go down in history as the best player who ever wielded a tennis racket, but his victories will pale in comparison to the trials and tribulations that he endured along the way. Who can reflect on Sampras' triumphs without recalling how he once cried and then later literally spilled his guts on court for his coach and best friend, Tim Gullikson, who died in 1995 from brain cancer.

His recording-breaking Slam title at Wimbledon in 2000 will be remembered as one he won under the threat of darkness, flashbulbs turning dusk into a flutter of lights as he broke down in tears under the watchful eyes of his reticent parents, who had never before seen him win a Grand Slam title in person. Everyone will forget, however, that he practically played the entire last week on one leg, his injured left foot requiring painkilling injections prior to play so he could endure another day frolicking so athletically on the manicured grass.

Sampras projected a cool, detached presence, and rarely let his guard down. But that's what made those moments, when the door to his soul opened ever so slightly for all or some of us to see, so enlightening. Following his triumph at Wimbledon four years ago, Sampras eventually relented to my pressure -- he referred to it as "nagging" -- to stop for a day in New York City on his way back home to Los Angeles for a round of media appearances. At the end of a long morning of interviews, he was escorted by a coterie of TV personnel toward an elevator. He suddenly stopped and said he'd preferred to walk upstairs instead, quickly shoving me into a stairwell and letting the heavy door slam loudly behind us.

"#&%*!" Sampras barked when we were out of earshot. He then took off his shoes, and with his left arm braced on my right shoulder, we walked up several flights of stairs, his left leg barely useful to him. The painkillers he had taken earlier, prior to his Today Show appearance at the crack of dawn, had worn off completely. When he opened the door at the top of the stairs, however, Sampras' shoes were back on, he strolled quickly to a sound stage for his final round of interviews and didn't mutter a word about his discomfort to anyone.

Sampras stands alone in his chosen sport, both figuratively because of his achievements and literally because of its nature. Tennis remains unique in the world of sports in that its participants still compete solo on stage. As writer Jay Winik once stated in an editorial in The Wall Street Journal: "Sports commentators ... put Mr. Sampras in that special category reserved for the likes of Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods and Mark McGwire. But this almost certainly understates Mr. Sampras' achievements. With all due respect, none of these marvelous athletes has faced the withering day-to-day pressures confronted by Mr. Sampras. And all have had someone to fall back on during "off" days: In golf, there's your caddy; in boxing, your corner; in baseball and basketball, your teammates. No so in tennis ... Mr. Sampras has done it utterly and totally alone."

Sampras seemed blessed from the moment, at 18 months, when his Greek father took him out back and watched young Pete repeatedly kick a football straight through some uprights that Sampras the elder had rigged up. Soterios (Sam) Sampras eventually pushed Pete into tennis, then entrusted his son's training to a doctor sporting an IQ of 200 but absolutely no background in coaching tennis. Dr. Pete Fischer was a pediatric endocrinologist who had mad scientist designs on "creating" the perfect tennis player. He plucked his malleable student in front of old 18-millimeter films of Rod Laver and told Sampras that some day he would be better than the "greatest player ever." All this before the kid could hit a decent backhand passing shot.

But the talent was there. Even when he was losing plenty of tennis matches as a junior player, observers gushed. "When they were passing out talent," USTA junior development coach Greg Patton told me in 1987 when I was writing about Sampras for Tennis Magazine, "they not only dumped it on Pete Sampras, they not only sanded down Pete Sampras and put a layer of paint on him, they put 12 different coats of high-premium paint all over this kid. He is a piece of art." Fischer dismissed all concerns about Sampras' lack of success in the juniors as irrelevant in his preparation for the pros. "The goal has always been Wimbledon," Fischer said, "The competition has always been Rod Laver."

At Sampras' first four Grand Slam tournaments, he didn't get past the second round. But at the 1990 U.S. Open, Sampras strung together the hottest two weeks of his fledgling tennis career -- a "premature blip," he now calls it. He won the event at age 19 to become the youngest men's champion in the tournament's history. Along the way, he beat four former and future No. 1 players: Thomas Muster, Ivan Lendl, John McEnroe and Andre Agassi. Sports Illustrated put Sampras on its cover under the headline: "A Star is Born."

Then he fell back down to earth. In 1991, losses piled up, the media and fan attention drained him of energy, and Sampras quickly retreated back into his former shell. The low point occurred at the 1991 U.S. Open. After falling in the quarterfinals to Jim Courier, at the time a rising young American, Sampras admitted that the pressure of defending his title was a "bag of bricks." When his comments were relayed to Jimmy Connors, in the midst of his crowd-pleasing run to the semifinals at age 39, the veteran ripped into Sampras. "That's the biggest crock of s---," Connors said. "Being the U.S. Open champ is what I lived for. If he's relieved at losing, something is wrong with the game ... and wrong with him!"

Sampras, the child prodigy, soon found Tim Gullikson, the former lunch-bucket pro. They were the Odd Couple. When the two first started working together, Gullikson was reading a book on Tao; I'm not convinced Pete has even picked up a book since perusing The Catcher in the Rye in high school.

Gullikson's friends nicknamed him Mr. Intensity; Courier dubbed Sampras "The Sweet One" for his effortless, casual approach to life. Gullikson would want to lose weight, so he'd start running 10 miles a day, seven days a week. Conversely, the serene Sampras expected positive results more than he wanted to work for them. Lendl once had taken Sampras under his wing for a week but declared the time together a waste. "He doesn't know what it takes," Lendl said. "He isn't willing to do what he needs."

Sampras already had dispatched a host of coaches when he hired Gullikson. An acrimonious split with Fischer soured him on "mentors," and he had little respect for what someone else could teach him. Gullikson was once ranked No. 18, Sampras calculated, and never even played during the final weekend of a Grand Slam tournament. What does he know about becoming the No. 1 player in the world? But their partnership worked until Gullikson's untimely passing. "Pete validated me," Gullikson said just prior to his death. "It's funny. I feel like I belong now."

Certainly Sampras belongs on a list of the greatest athletes of the 21st century, an accolade earned in large part under the wise and inevitably under-appreciated direction of Paul Annacone. Sampras was the ATP's No. 1 player for a record-breaking six consecutive years, an achievement that many of us consider even more untouchable than his Grand Slam titles record. His career prize money earnings exceed $43 million, nearly double rival Andre Agassi's, a testament not only to his ability to deliver during prime time he won 14 Grand Slam titles, 11 Tennis Masters Series titles and five year-end championships -- but also his relentless, steady pursuit of perfection throughout his 15-year career.

The aforementioned quote on the Wimbledon Centre Court entry reflects the essence of Pete Sampras the Tennis Player. But it's the entire verse by Kipling that more accurately reflects his spirit, and guides him as he now steps toward a new life as husband and father: "If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two imposters just the same. If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings -- nor lose the common touch. Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!"

David Higdon, ATP Vice President Corporate Communications and Editor-At-Large for the ATP's DEUCE Magazine, previously worked as an editor and writer at Tennis Magazine. He can be reached at dhigdon@atptennis.com.