The Voice of a Champion: Sampras Speaks
By Caitlin Rhodes
How do you measure the career of a champion? Documenting the career of Pete Sampras, one of the greatest players of all time, is a daunting task. Where do you start? What metrics can you use? Career victories? Seven hundred and sixty-two. Percentage of matches won vs. played? Over 77%. Titles? Sixty-four. Grand Slams? Fourteen. Ranking? Year-end World No. 1 for a record-setting six consecutive years, with a total of two hundred and eighty-six weeks at No. 1. Prize money won? US$ 43,280,489.
Records broken? Opponents defeated? There is no one statistic, or even sum of statistics, that can truly define a champion, as it omits the backbone and bread of butter of any champion: the intangibles like the seemingly tireless work ethic, determination, graciousness, humility, consistency, and longevity.
The person most familiar with Pete Sampras' career is the man himself, who when revisiting his career at his induction into the Hall of Fame in 2007 did not sum up his accomplishments by tabulating Slam victories, but instead defined his career by the people who shaped him into the champion he became: his family, his coaches, and his wife.
Tennis aficionados all know Sampras the champion, but few really understand Sampras the man. To understand from where people draw their inspiration and who they idolize, is to truly understand their passion, their values and their aspirations.
Sampras modeled himself after classic champions like Rod Laver and Ken Rosewall after studying old footage as a young boy. At the time, he was just fascinated by their games, but unbeknownst to even himself, he was absorbing much more than their technique and aggressive style of play. As Sampras said, "It [wasn't] until later that I would truly appreciate what it takes to be a great champion: things like the importance of humility and class, sportsmanship and dignity. Fortunately for me, all these things tapped into my core values and how I was raised. Therefore, I embraced the tradition of the game from the start."
Sampras embodied the traditional elements of the game, some would say to a fault. In contrast to the flash of his main rival, compatriot Andre Agassi, who was epitomized by his IMAGE IS EVERYTHING Canon marketing campaign, Sampras instead quietly went about the daily business of winning as just as that --- a business. He was no nonsense, he was practical, he made sacrifices, he was committed, he was unwavering in his dedication and pursuit of excellence. As Sampras put it, "There were times I would think I'm kind of a fifties player living in the nineties. And as a result I felt a bit misunderstood by some; but by many I felt embraced and loved."
Sampras believes his upbringing and his family's loving support molded him into the player he became. His father used to take Sampras and his sister to junior tennis, while their mother would feed them balls so they could practice. As Sampras said, "They were both involved in my junior game, but they never meddled when it came time for coaches or strategy or strokes. They were more concerned with me playing well than winning."
Sampras cites the example of how they supported him when he switched from a two-handed to a one-handed backhand at fourteen. "They encouraged this process. Most people thought I was actually crazy for doing it, and I had moments where I thought maybe it was the wrong thing to do. But it was big picture thinking like this, that would go on to really define my career. My dad, he was the provider, my mom the nurturer." Sampras credits his determination and competitive drive to his mother. "Those are virtues I inherited from somewhere deep under my mom's softness," he said.
According to Sampras, he was not ready for all that came with his first Grand Slam when he won the US Open at 19, describing the better part of the next two years as going by in a fog. It was only after losing to defending champion Stefan Edberg in the 1992 U.S. Open final, did Sampras realize his desire to be the best.
"I realized that I had given up in the match," he said. "Just a touch, but enough to lose. I came to the realization that getting to finals wouldn't be good enough anymore."
"The man who helped me through this time was my coach, Tim Gullikson," Sampras said. "Tim instilled in me a work ethic that I never had. My talent had gotten me to a certain level, but it was Tim who pushed me to practice hard and to practice with a purpose."
Gullikson's influence on Sampras is best evidenced by how his pupil did a 180 on grass, which he initially hated. Sampras credits Gullikson for changing his attitude and his technique on grass, the surface on which he would win seven of his 14 majors. "I can honestly say it was Tim who, through his mentality and his work ethic, that got me to be the best player in the world."
Critics who called Sampras "robotic", "mechanical" or "emotionless" have clearly never heard him talk about Gullikson, have never heard his voice crack with emotion when he reminisces about their relationship. Gullikson's death in 1996 after a long battle with brain cancer ended a chapter in Sampras' career, but it didn't end Gullikson's profound impact on Sampras. "That expression in Tim's eyes remains with me to this day. I was with him, and he with me, to the end. I miss him to this day and I know it's a loss I share with the entire tennis world."
As Gullikson's health declined and he could no longer travel, Paul Annacone "quietly became the key silent partner" on Sampras' team, and eventually became his coach. "Even though he beat me in '89, I still hired him," Sampras quipped. "It was clear to me that Paul knew what I was all about. In fact, Paul would get to know me better than anyone else as a tennis player. Paul knew how to keep things simple and how to downplay things rather than ramp up an occasion. We really clicked that way. Yet he still quietly pushed me to play a certain way, pushed me to attack, to chip and charge, and to impose my will on my opponents. Paul wasn't a big rah-rah guy. He didn't say a whole lot, but the things he said I took to heart."
Just as Sampras credits his '92 US Open loss in the finals to turning around his career, he describes a '99 back injury as "the best injury of my life because that's [when] I met my wife, Bridget." Now married for ten years with two children, Ryan and Christian, Sampras considers his wife his lifeline. "In the final two hardest years of my career, she became my rock and my sounding board. I was struggling with issues that I had never faced before." Battling through a two-year drought without a Grand Slam title, Sampras faced constant criticism and calls to retire, and was portrayed as a washed out champion who hung on too long. "But through it all," Sampras said, "Bridget kept me together with her empathy and compassion, her selflessness and light. Her unwavering loyalty and faith in me kept me strong at a time when I was losing faith in myself."
In fact, after a demoralizing second-round loss at Wimbledon where he had once reigned, Sampras began to consider the merits of retirement as he too doubted he still had what it took to win. Remembering her words, Sampras' voice cracked. "She said these --- these words that I'll never forget. She said, eI will support you in --- in whatever you --- you decide to do, but promise me one thing: that when you do go out, it will be on your terms.' Those words resonated deep within me. They stayed with me. They became this new fuel that I needed to hear to win my record 14th major in 2002. It was the last official tournament that I ever played."
There was a great symmetry to the way Sampras ended his career; the final major he would ever win was also the first major he had won against the same opponent: the US Open against his main rival, Agassi. For the next year, Sampras would pencil his name in to play tournaments, but as each drew near, he would withdraw. For Sampras, he went about the business of ending his career the same way he achieved it, cautiously, respecting the process.
As Sampras tried to conclude his reflection on his career, he was overcome with emotion. "I guess I bottled up emotion for sixteen years and now you're seeing it, huh?" he said. "At the end of the day, the thing I'm most proud of is --- is --- is I never strayed from --- from...my core values." As Sampras sniffled and tried valiantly to compose himself, the crowd applauded. "From the attitudes and philosophy passed on to me from my parents, and men like Rod Laver, I embraced the quiet way, and I walked the high road as best I could. Above all, I wanted to represent myself, my family, and the game in a way which we could all be proud of."
It seems apropos after a career of being criticized for his reticence, that we use Sampras' own reflections and own words to capture the essence of one of the greatest champions the game has ever seen.
"So as I take my place among the greatest players of all time here in the Hall of Fame, I stand before you both humbled and grateful," said Sampras. "I'm a tennis player: nothing more, and nothing less. It's more than enough for me. It always has been."