The History of Men's Tennis (Open Era)

Born: June 18, 1986 in Béziers (Occitanie)
Height: 1.83 m
Plays: Right-handed

Great anticipation surrounded Gasquet in France when he debuted at an ATP event – Monte Carlo ’02 before turning 16. In the opening round, as a qualifier [589], he astounded spectators by overcoming former French Open semifinalist Franco Squillari, becoming one of the youngest match victors at the main level of the Open Era. This milestone preceded his first Challenger event, which he subsequently conquered (Montauban) not dropping a set; a month earlier at the French Open, he’d seized the opening set from Albert Costa, who claimed the trophy two weeks later! No one questioned that the young prodigy possessed remarkable talent to be hypothetically remembered as one of the best players of the first decade of the new century.
For the following two years, Gasquet was frequently compared to his contemporary, two weeks older Rafael Nadal. They finally clashed in a captivating semifinal in Monte Carlo ’05 (after Gasquet had outlasted Roger Federer a round earlier, surviving three match points). Afterwards, their once-parallel paths diverged starkly (18-0 for Nadal in the end, the second most one-sided Head-to-Head in modern times) – the Spaniard emerged as the ‘King of Clay,’ an undisputed No. 2 in the world for several years behind Federer, while Gasquet never breached the Top 5, soon recognizing that two players a year his junior (Novak Đoković and Andy Murray) were destined for greater heights. Not only the Monte Carlo semifinal, but also the Estoril ’07 final and Wimbledon ’08 fourth round, proved revealing – Gasquet displayed flashes of brilliance, yet lacked the endurance and resolve of his peers. That fourth-round encounter at Wimbledon ’08 would linger in Gasquet’s memory for the rest of his career; having bested Murray in their two prior meetings, he fell to the Scot despite nearing victory in three relatively straightforward sets. That defeat was no anomaly; it underscored Gasquet’s delicate psyche.
His exquisite backhand (arguably the best one-handed BH in the 21st Century thus far) could captivate audiences in the grandest arenas, but tennis demands resilience in countless critical moments – a quality Gasquet sorely lacked. This inability to summon something extraordinary led to even more devastating two-set-to-love (MP-up) losses at the Australian Open in consecutive years (to Fernando González 10-12 in the 5th after four hours and Mikhail Youzhny after ~five hours – second time to him after such a long match). Therefore I believe those setbacks shaped Gasquet’s trajectory, even though he was merely 24 years old. It was clear he wouldn’t be a one Slam wonder.
The year 2013 marked the peak of Gasquet’s career – he secured three titles (Doha, Montpellier, Moscow) and reached the US Open semifinal, overcoming a lingering five-set jinx by defeating Milos Raonic and David Ferrer in consecutive five-set battles; the latter victory was particularly noteworthy, as Gasquet snapped a streak of five straight losses to the Spaniard without winning a set. Another celebrated five-set triumph came at Wimbledon ’07, where he toppled Andy Roddick in a rare scenario among five-setters, clinching the final three sets despite nearly losing each. That win propelled him to his first major semifinal; his third and final one also occurred at Wimbledon (2015), where he once again defied expectations by outlasting Stan Wawrinka in a thrilling showdown.
Gasquet’s very long career – likewise Gaël Monfils‘ –  despite high hopes of the potent French federation, registers as a considerable let-down, though he enjoyed one of the most enduring careers, as evidenced by the number of tournaments he contested (only three men have played more main-level events than him). He reached 33 finals, three at the Masters 1000 level (Hamburg ’05, Toronto ’06, and Toronto ’12). Given twenty consecutive years in the Top 100, three Slam semifinals as well as three big finals, it’s a blow for Gasquet’s legacy he never won an ATP 500 title, also the fact he never played a semifinal at the French Open (only one quarterfinal, in 2016). Undoubtedly, his failure to ever defeat Nadal casts a shadow over his glorious tennis adventure, but he departed the court victorious against Đoković on one occasion in fourteen meetings, and several times when Federer (2-19 in their H2H) and Murray (4-9 H2H) stood across the net: Rome ’12 remains the most cherished memory because the fragile Gasquet was physically stronger than the Scot at least on that day.

Career record: 610-408 [ 420 events ]
Career titles: 16
Highest ranking: No. 7
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (quarterfinal 2016)
Wimbledon (semifinal 2007 & 2015)
US Open (semifinal 2013; quarterfinal 2015)
Davis Cup ’17 champion (played doubles in the final)
Hopman Cup ’17 champion

Born: August 16, 1964 in Grand Island (New York)
Height: 1.74 m
Plays: Right-handed

Alongside Aaron Krickstein (their match in Antwerp ’86), Arias was expected to succeed Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe at the zenith of U.S. tennis in the second half of the 1980s. They were both the inaugural “products” of Nick Bollettieri’s renowned academy, prodigies, hypothetical US versions of Björn Borg. Arias was merely 16 years and 10 months old when he claimed his first significant title – the mixed-doubles crown at the French Open ’81, partnering his female counterpart Andrea Jaeger; a few months earlier, he’d become the youngest player (at the time) to compete in the US Open, losing in straight sets to Roscoe Tanner in the second round.
He entered the Top 100 before turning 17, and the pinnacle of his career unfolded around age 20 – he shockingly triumphed in Rome ’83, then proved his mettle in prestigious tournaments where was stopped in later stages by the era’s top three players (US Open, Dallas, French Open), and a soon-to-be top player Stefan Edberg in the first Open Era Olympic Games – as a demonstration sport for the second time in sixty years (only 21 year-old or younger men could participate). He ascended to the Top 5 as a teenager, yet those three hyperlinked lost matches to the game’s giants exposed his limitations; while it was improbable he’d become the world’s best, few anticipated his descent into mediocrity in the latter 1980s (his sole notable result being the Monte Carlo ’87 final).
Arias exemplified rapid exploitation. He had secured five titles before turning twenty and added none to his résumé thereafter (losing seven finals in the years 1985-1991). Still relatively young at 30 years old, he retired following several lackluster years and persistent injuries. Unexpectedly, he re-emerged for his cameo ATP event four years later – navigating the qualifying rounds in Washington ’98 (defeating Doug Flach and Eric Taino) to capitalize on a favorable draw, and Wade McGuire’s (poor 7-20 main-level record) injury in the first round… though he stood no chance against Wayne Ferreira in the second round.
Arias reflects on his career: “At 19, I made one critical mistake that altered my career. I contracted mono and continued playing, which enlarged my spleen and triggered liver issues. I was prescribed three months of bed rest. I began reviewing all the scrapbooks my mother had compiled, and I had two troubling thoughts: the first was, ‘if I never accomplish anything else in tennis, I’ve already done well.’ What you say manifests. I never truly achieved anything else I deemed noteworthy, though I won some significant matches. The second thought was even more unsettling: ‘I didn’t want to be No. 1 in the world anymore.’ The fame was too intense for my liking. I wanted to enjoy a movie without everyone recognizing me.” Yet the truth is that under Bollettieri’s guidance, Arias honed a potent top-spin forehand with a wooden racquet; it was a period of transition to graphite, and from the mid-1980s onward, several moderate players adeptly countered Arias’ top-spins once equipped with modern gear. Moreover, Arias’ backhand lacked fluidity; being short in stature, once his primary weapon was neutralized, he had no other arsenal to challenge the best guys on the tour.
Trivia: Arias was implicated in arguably the most humiliating defeat of the U.S. Davis Cup team in the 1980s. In the 1987 first round, Americans travelled to Paraguay as overwhelming favorites; Arias lost two rubbers, the second pivotal one against the obscure Hugo Chapacu [ranked 282] after 5 hours and 22 minutes, squandering three match points, the first two while leading 5:1 (40/15) in the decider! Another striking Arias defeat in the 1980s occurred at Barcelona ’84, where he fell in the quarterfinals to Sweden’s Joakim Nyström 6-2, 4-6, 14-16 – Arias trailed 1:5 in the third set yet held a match point at 12:11. That unfortunate loss actually meant Arias’ departure from the tennis elite.

Career record: 283–222 [ 222 events ]
Career titles: 5
Highest ranking: No. 5
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (quarterfinal 1984)
US Open (semifinal 1983)
World Team Cup champion 1984
Bronze medallist of the Olympics (Los Angeles ’84)

Born: September 15, 1971 in Johannesburg (Gauteng)
Height: 1.83 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)

Along with Richard Krajicek, (and Carlos Costa, MaliVai Washington to a lesser extent), Ferreira was the most significant revelation of the 1992 season. They were both 20-year-olds when they reached the Australian Open ’92 semifinals. Krajicek delighted the tennis world with a booming serve and exceptional volleying skills, while Ferreira showcased a lethal forehand. Ferreira’s career proved lengthy and rewarding; in a sense, he became an emblem of Grand Slam events, never missing a major between the Australian Open ’91 and US Open ’04 (as many as 56 consecutive Grand Slams – a record at the time), when he recognized it would be his not only final tournament at that level, but also his last main-level event altogether (332nd in total).
Despite such numerous appearances at majors, and a commendable five-set record, he never experienced a year as successful at Slams as in 1992, when he followed up the Aussie semifinal with a US Open quarterfinal and a fourth-round showing at Wimbledon (in all those events, he was ultimately defeated by exceptional players on Centre Courts). To me, he is regarded as the finest Open Era player never to reach a major final. He came nowhere close; in 1992 as well as in 2003, he had little chance in Melbourne, facing Stefan Edberg and Andre Agassi respectively in the semifinals. Agassi was indeed Ferreira’s nightmarish adversary. They met eleven times, and only once did Ferreira come close to victory, in their match no. 6 – at the Olympic Games in Atlanta ’96. The South African led 5:3* (30-all) in the decider when netted Agassi’s conservative second serve before succumbing 5-7, 6-4, 5-7. Against the other premier player of the 90s – Pete Sampras – Ferreira performed admirably. He lost their Head-to-Head 6-7, but from 1995 to 1998, Ferreira triumphed in all four encounters (always 6-3 in the third sets), and what’s notably amusing, the first two wins (Lyon and Frankfurt) followed the same pattern as the subsequent two (Key Biscayne and Basel). Apart from Agassi & Michael Chang, Ferreira vanquished all players who epitomized the decade; as a veteran, he remained a formidable opponent for emerging talents (two highly dramatic victories over Lleyton Hewitt – in five meetings, also two against Roger Federer – in three meetings).
Ferreira was an offensive baseliner, yet playing at the net felt like his natural domain (he regularly participated in doubles competitions; the best junior in doubles of 1989, got the Olympic silver medal in 1992 alongside Piet Norval). Serve-and-volley tactics were second nature to him on grass, while on hard courts and indoors, he employed this style according to necessity. I believe his inability to defeat Agassi at least once may be attributed to this – he couldn’t rival Agassi from the baseline, but his serve-and-volley skills proved insufficient to overcome the great American with a plan B; he could only hope for a subpar day from his nemesis, which occurred in Atlanta… Who knows, perhaps if he had defeated Agassi then, he might have claimed a gold medal, offering him some measure of fulfillment.
I assume that two Mercedes Super 9 titles (Toronto ’96 and Stuttgart ’00) provide some compensation for not securing anything grander. If we compare Yevgeny Kafelnikov and his frequent doubles partner Ferreira (5-3 in their matches for the Afrikaner), both versatile players adept at winning matches in the 90s by attacking the net and playing from the baseline depending on the surface and the opponent, there’s actually no disparity between them in technical-mental skillset. Yet the Russian captured two majors and an Olympic gold medal. Suggesting that the Russian capitalized on clay-courts as a European would be an oversimplification, as Ferreira advanced to the Stuttgart-outdoor ’92 final when the event boasted its strongest field in history, and two Rome semifinals (1995 & 1996) when the Italian capital held the status of the second most prestigious clay-court event behind the French Open.
“I had on occasions felt that I lost to players who I should have beaten, and this is something I became aware of much later in my career. Often I would take the first set easily and then I became bored. I would lose interest and then sometimes didn’t recover sufficiently to win the match,” Ferreira reflected on his career. Trivia: Ferreira was the hottest player around the US Open 1994: he won four titles (three in consecutive starts) – first he captured Indianapolis – his lone title being an equivalent of ATP 500; the following year, he claimed back-to-back European events indoors in autumn, then reached the semifinal at Paris-Bercy. In hindsight, it seems the US Open ’94 was the Slam when Ferreira was in peak form to reach his sole major final; unfortunately for him, in the third round, he faced his toughest opponent, Agassi, and lost in straight sets – it was Ferreira’s only defeat within 25 tournament matches!
Ferreira returned to the circuit after fifteen years as Frances Tiafoe’s coach. They collaborated from 2020-23, with Ferreira guiding him to a Top 10 ranking. Recently, Ferreira has been mentoring a player aiming to break into the Top 20 – Alexei Popyrin.

Career record: 512–330 [ 332 events ]
Career titles: 15
Highest ranking: No. 6
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 1992 & 2003; quarterfinal 2002)
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 1994)
US Open (quarterfinal 1992)
Hopman Cup 2000 champion

Born: October 2, 1967 in Leibnitz (Styria)
Height: 1.81 m
Plays: Left-handed

Speaking percentage-wise, Muster’s finest Slam was Roland Garros (71% of wins), yet he played as many quarterfinals at the Australian and US Opens as in Paris, which is rather unexpected. It becomes less surprising upon closer examination of Muster’s decade in Paris, starting in 1989, when he had reached an Australian Open semifinal and advanced to the Key Biscayne final (Ivan Lendl proved an insurmountable barrier both times), becoming a recognisable force in tennis. That year, he was sidelined for six months by a car accident (struck by a drunk driver; side ligaments in his left knee torn).
In 1991, he fell in the first round to the decade’s finest player – Pete Sampras. The years 1992 and 1993? Twice thwarted by the reigning champion in Paris at the time – Jim Courier. In 1994 – another challenging draw, a gruelling second-round victory over Andre Agassi, followed by a stunning defeat to Patrick Rafter, who’d later rise to become the world’s best, lending that match a different perspective with hindsight. In 1996? A fourth-round exit when Muster was expected to defend his title, but he was ousted by an inspired Michael Stich. That year, the sunny conditions favored big servers, and Stich capitalized on the weather. In 1997? A shocking loss, then not in a hindsight – third-round defeat to Gustavo Kuerten, who went on to win the event and secure two more titles in Paris. Finally, in 1999, a first-round defeat marked the end of his career, falling to Nicolás Lapentti, who was playing the tennis of his life that year. Thus, we see only three advancements to the quarterfinals: first in 1990, when Muster fell in the semifinal to Andrés Gómez after defeating the Ecuadorian weeks earlier in the Rome semifinal; the title in 1995, when Muster, an overwhelming favorite, narrowly escaped in the last eight (against Albert Costa); and the quarterfinal in 1998 (defeated by Félix Mantilla – top clay-courter in the second half of the 90s), by which time the greatest Austrian of the Open Era was already vulnerable to upsets on clay, and few would have been shocked if he had exited in the first week.
“Muster reminds me a lot of Guillermo Vilas because he hits the ball so hard,” Gómez remarked after the upset loss in Rome ’90. This echoed my own impression watching Muster in the 90s; he played in a manner that suggested he modelled his game-style on the Argentine icon of the 70s. Exceptional athleticism, abundant topspin off both wings generated with the left hand, and a deft touch at the net (when Muster was developing, he played doubles frequently, like many Europeans) – these traits they shared. Muster was a relentless worker, a necessity to regain his former level after the Key Biscayne accident. He was famously photographed hitting tennis balls from a specially designed chair, his left leg in a cast. Six months later, he returned and was named the ATP’s Comeback Player of the Year. The immense effort he invested in reclaiming his peak form yielded rewards in 1995 – that year, Muster was utterly dominant on his cherished clay, securing twelve titles (three Masters 1K; Monte Carlo, Rome, Essen) in fourteen finals (paradoxically lost two in front of the home crowd: Kitzbühel and Wien), eleven on the dirt. It’s truly remarkable that en route to half of titles, he was one point from defeat (winning seven match-point-down matches in total that year)!
His dedication to amassing as many titles as possible paved the way for him to become world No. 1, which he achieved the following year, despite not playing with the same efficiency on clay, though he improved on faster surfaces, even managing to win some matches on his despised grass (his Wimbledon record? A dismal 0-4; from 1988 to ’91, he didn’t even bother travelling to England). “My No. 1 ranking in 1996 was built on my 12 tournament wins in 1995… I don’t know how many people can say that, measurably, they have been No. 1 at something, the best in the world. I loved that moment,” Muster reflected, explaining that he spent six weeks on the top at the time of his sensational defeats on hardcourts in the first quarter of 1996.
He aimed to prove to the era’s top players (Agassi and Sampras) that he could compete with them on all surfaces. Starting from Queens Club 1996, Muster quickened his first serve, began operating closer to the baseline, attacking the net more frequently (as he had in the late 80s), and 1997 marked his strongest year on hard courts (Australian Open semifinal, Dubai & Key Biscayne triumphs, final in Cincinnati). However, he lost his mastery on clay with this new implementation, winning just 9 matches (and losing 9) on that surface that year, a stark contrast to his stellar 65-2 (1995) and 46-3 (1996) records in the prior two years. When young Àlex Corretja stunned him 7-5, 6-1 in the Gstaad ’95 first round, it ended Muster’s 35-match winning streak (40 on clay).
While analyzing Muster’s matches, I’ve observed he was inclined to use lobs despite not executing them effectively; his return was mediocre, often merely blocking on the backhand side. This may explain his lackluster Head-to-Head records against serve-and-volleyers; he possessed only average reflexes and often, instead of attempting passing shots, resorted to defensive lobs. An embarrassing 0-10 H2H against Stefan Edberg is striking, but he also struggled against other similar players: 0-3 vs. Rafter, 2-3 vs. Stich. Moreover, he had even records against serve-and-volley big servers like Goran Ivanišević and Richard Krajicek, all of whom could defeat Muster even on clay.
Muster accomplished an infamous feat previously seen only in Björn Borg’s case, returning to the tour a decade after his final professional match. Across all levels, he competed in 26 matches during 2010-11, securing just two victories, one particularly gratifying (Todi, Challenger) – Muster overcame Leonardo Mayer, a player twenty years his junior, who would later rise to No. 21.

Career record: 625–273 [ 308 events ]
Career titles: 44
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 1989 & 97; quarterfinal 1994)
Roland Garros (champion 1995; semifinal 1990; quarterfinal 1998)
US Open (quarterfinal 1993-94 & 96)

Year-end rankings 1984-99: 311 – 98 – 47 – 56 – 16 – 21 – 7 – 35 – 18 – 9 – 16 – 3 – 5 – 9 – 25 – 193

Born: June 28, 1973 in Bilbao (País Vasco)
Height: 1.72 m
Plays: Right-handed

…if Jean Borotra (1898–1994), one of the famed French ‘Four Musketeers’ of the interwar period, stands as the greatest Basque player in history, Berasategui at least deserves the title of ‘best Basque player’ of the Open Era.
The 1994 it was his year to some degree (merely Pete Sampras won more titles that year; btw Sampras is the only top player born in the 70s, Berasategui never faced), he brought back something that had been seen in 1988 when Kent Carlsson advanced to the Top 10 while focusing only on clay. Both Berasategui and Carlsson played with enormous topspin forehands, but in Berasategui’s case, there was something unseen before: he hit the ball aggressively off both wings with the same grip!
Nothing strange about that for players of many previous generations, who grew up with wooden racquets and adjusted to the continental grip. But to play this way with modern graphite equipment – hitting every shot with the same side of the racquet – it was a bizarrely tough task. Berasategui somehow found a way; with such an extreme forehand grip, and exceptionally fast pace between points on serve, his topspin was really impressive. In the mid-90s, heavy topspin wasn’t as popular as it would become in the next decade. The Basque took full advantage of it on clay, moving smoothly with his wiggly legs to  produce forehand winners all over the place.
First he gained some attention in the fall of 1993 by reaching four small ATP finals (lost three of them, always in deciders). He sent a serious message to the top players in Nice ’94, defeating Jim Courier 6-4, 6-2 in the final – Courier, at the time, had played three consecutive French Open finals. Berasategui’s great form in southern France carried over to Paris: at Roland Garros ’94, he was brilliant for two weeks. Before that event, he’d never even reached a Slam third round, yet suddenly he was in the final, eliminating only quality opponents: Wayne Ferreira, Cédric Pioline, Yevgeny Kafelnikov, Javier Frana (b. 1966, three titles), Goran Ivanišević, and Magnus Larsson. Even though none of his opponents (five of six potential Top 10 players, excluding Frana) were typical clay-courters, the fact that Berasategui didn’t drop a set was really astonishing.
In the final, he faced a Davis Cup mate and defending champion – Sergi Bruguera. In the first all-Spanish major final, witnessed by the Spanish king Juan Carlos I, the Basque was defeated in four sets by the Catalan, who neutralized Berasategui’s kick-serve and simply outlasted him. The Parisian fortnight boosted Berasategui’s confidence – afterwards, he won six titles in the second half of the season (seven including a Challenger), the biggest in Stuttgart. He went unbeaten on clay for 27 straight matches (22 excluding a Challenger title in Barcelona), earning a spot at the Masters. There, he became a whipping boy; unlike Carlsson in 1988, Berasategui switched from clay to carpet, where Michael Chang, Andre Agassi, and Bruguera destroyed him. The latter felt so confident that I saw him serve-and-volleying regularly for the first time.
Berasategui was never the same after 1994. Opponents figured him out – his tendency to serve almost exclusively to right-handed backhands on the deuce court (standing unusually close to the center mark – in the mid 90s only Gilbert Schaller had higher % of first serves in) and his habit of running around his backhand for those vicious topspin forehands. Covering ~75% of the baseline with the forehand is never easy – it requires endless running and power – it’s even harder for a player of his modest stature. Once his fitness dipped, his exposed backhand became prone to errors.
Strangely, his second-best major performance came on hard courts – the 1998 Australian Open, where he reached the quarterfinals beating Andrei Medvedev, Patrick Rafter, and Agassi as an underdog, in succession. Yet between June 2nd and August 31st that year, he lost nine straight main-level matches! Before that skid, he suffered two brutal collapses: leading 5:1 in the deciders against Pioline (Monte Carlo) and Félix Mantilla (Hamburg); he wasted eleven match points combined. Berasategui retired at age of 27, with a 14-9 record in ATP finals – all on clay (Carlsson, with a distinctively shorter career, finished at 9-8). He played one semifinal outside clay (Scottsdale ’96), Carlsson did not.

Career record: 278–199 [ 207 events ]
Career titles: 14
Highest ranking: No. 7
Best GS results:
Australian Open (quarterfinal 1998)
Roland Garros (runner-up 1994)

Born: March 23, 1972 in Alvesta (Kronoberg)
Height: 1.84 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)

Björkman was an heir to two different schools of Swedish tennis: one represented by a bunch of players inspired by Björn Borg, who used two-handed backhands and built their tactics around ground-strokes, and the other represented primarily by Stefan Edberg, the serve-and-volley style. Björkman tried to combine these two schools (similarly to Anders Järryd in the preceding decade), even though his volley skills were nowhere close to Edberg’s, and his forehand lacked the power of the three Magnuses (Larsson, Norman, and Gustafsson), who played more or less at the same time. He had to invent this hybrid supported by exceptional physical preparation because as a junior glued to the baseline he sunk in European mediocrity.
Björkman first showed signs of his potential at the US Open 1994, where he destroyed his idol Edberg in the third round before advancing to the quarterfinals. A few months later he reached the Key Biscayne ’95 semifinals after eliminating Mats Wilander, arguably the second-best Swede born in the 60s.
In those early years on ATP tour (mid-90s), he established himself as one of the best doubles players, partnering fellow Swede Jan Apell, who is three years older. The constant net attacks behind each serve in doubles and improved return skills (in the 90s only Paul Haarhuis could deal with service bombs as good as Björkman), he successfully transferred into his singles career by 1997. At 25, as a serve-and-volley player relying on his satisfactory first serve, attacking the net a lot with approach-shots as a receiver, he enjoyed a memorable season from start to finish (he moved from No. 69 to 4 that year): began it with a title in Auckland, finished with a Davis Cup triumph (leading Sweden in both singles and doubles alongside Nicklas Kulti), in the meantime he captured his biggest career title – Indianapolis (an equivalent of today’s ATP 500). He also reached his first Grand Slam semifinal at the US Open, highlighted by another stunning third-round victory over the reigning French Open champion.
The last quarter of that season was particularly impressive: including the US Open, Björkman won 25 of 32 matches, reaching at least the semifinals in four consecutive indoor events (Paris-Bercy marked his first and last Masters 1K final). The crowning achievement was his four-set victory over Michael Chang in the opening rubber of the Davis Cup final, setting the tone for Sweden’s 5-0 humiliation of the Americans.
The magic faded after the 1998 Australian Open (the only Slam where Björkman was considered a title favorite). He lost in the quarterfinals to veteran Petr Korda despite winning the first two sets, and his terrific form soon evaporated (between the Dubai semifinal and the grass-court ’98 season, he won only 4 matches losing 11). Still, for another ten years of his career, he remained a permanent Top 100 player, capable of occasional surprises at big tournaments (like his Wimbledon ’06 semifinal run at 34), leveraging his vast experience in best-of-five matches. Due to his longevity he played for the entire 90s (1-9 record against the decade’s best Pete Sampras) and almost the entire 00s (0-5 against the decade’s best Roger Federer). The only other player who experienced something similar is Fabrice Santoro, the Frenchman’s career stretched even longer, between 1989 and 2010.
In the 90s, Björkman was the only player – alongside Guy Forget – to compete in the “Masters” events in both singles (1997 semifinalist) and doubles (1994 champion). Off the court, he was known for his amusing player impersonations (John McEnroe, Emilio Sánchez, Edberg), which Eurosport often featured. Post-retirement, he teamed up with fellow Swedish pros Thomas Johansson and Simon Aspelin to create a club league for amateur players. In 2015 he was coaching Andy Murray, but didn’t help him to reach the top spot.

Career record: 414-362 [ 349 events ]
Career titles: 6
Highest ranking: No. 4
Best GS results:
Australian Open (quarterfinal 1998 and 02)
Wimbledon (semifinal 2006; quarterfinal 2003)
US Open (semifinal 1997; quarterfinal 1994 and 98)
Davis Cup champion 1994, 1997 & 1998 (twice in doubles, once in singles/doubles)
World Team Cup champion 1995

Born: August 30, 1982 in Omaha (Nebraska)
Height: 1.88 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)

He emerged as the heir to America’s “Golden Generation” with the force of a hurricane. Successful as a junior (Aussie Open and US Open 2000 titles – he defeated two years younger Mario Ančić in the final and semifinal respectively), soon after he cracked the ATP rankings in March ’00, Roddick was already dominating the Challenger circuit in America capturing three titles in his first six events at this level. Twelve months after gaining his first ATP points, he stunned two former world No. 1s (Marcelo Ríos and Pete Sampras) in straight sets, back-to-back, then came the first two ATP titles as he had played just 11 events at this level. The message was clear: a new star had arrived, a potential ruler of the first decade of the new century/new millennium.
Wild cards flowed his way as America’s brightest hope, but Roddick earned every opportunity. His game, built on a nuclear serve, howitzer forehand and radiating self-confidence, was deceptively simple yet brutally effective. One-dimensional? Perhaps. But when his back was against the wall, his self-belief conjured aces like magic – no player since has weaponized bold self-assurance so relentlessly.
His ascent was meteoric: just 58 tournaments to win titles in four basic conditions [clay, hard, indoors (hard), grass]. The summer of 2003, under Brad Gilbert’s guidance, became legendary: first Indianapolis, then back-to-back Masters 1K titles in Canada and Cincinnati – a feat unmatched until Rafael Nadal in 2013. Even more impressive that Roddick did it in the era when six not five wins were required to rise the trophy for the highest seeded players which means he won twelve matches within fourteen days! By September, he’d bulldozed through the US Open (27 wins in 28 matches), claiming his lone major and the world No. 1 ranking.
Then came an improved Roger Federer, more focused on defence than attacking. The 2003 Houston Masters semifinal was a harbinger: the Swiss dissected Roddick’s power with surgical precision. Over time, their rivalry became tennis’ cruellest paradox – Federer’s serve suddenly sharper against Roddick than anyone else, while Roddick’s own biggest weapon fizzled. Four major finals (Wimbledon 2004, 2005 and 2009 as well as US Open 2006), two Masters 1K finals (Toronto 2004, Cincinnati 2005), including a cascade of heartbreaks (Wimbledon 2009’s marathon fifth set stands as the bitterest) cemented the most lopsided H2H between No. 1s… a humiliating 3-21 from A-Rod’s perspective.
Roddick evolved being coached by former US players – smarter serves (variety over power), sharper volleys, a reliable backhand slice – but the outcome never changed. Jimmy Connors’ grit (2006-08) and Larry Stefanki’s tactics (2008-12) couldn’t crack the code of Federer’s supremacy. By his late 20s, Roddick as the charismatic showman had morphed into a frustrated battler, constantly complaining during matches, sweating heavily, out-muscled by Nadal, out-thought by Novak Đoković, and out-paced by Andy Murray. Roddick’s consolation of the disappointing second half of the 00s is the fact that he built a winning H2H record against the Serb (5:4), the future GOAT. Frequent losses to a few years younger players, dramatic defeats when a two-game advantage in the 5th sets was required, and the fact of slipping away the status of a Top 10 player after nine years, caused Roddick’s decision to retire on the day he turned 30 (unusually early among players born in the 80s).
His 2012 US Open farewell speech was pure Roddick: raw, self-deprecating, and deeply human. “It’s been a road, a lot of ups, a lot of downs, a lot of great moments. I’ve appreciated your support along the way. I know I certainly haven’t made it easy for you at times, but I really do appreciate it and love you guys with all my heart. Hopefully I’ll come back to this place someday and see all of you again.” At 30, he retired as the arguably second-greatest player born in the early 80s (behind Federer, ahead of Lleyton Hewitt and Marat Safin – Roddick has a balanced record against them both), so in a generation in which there was a fundamental change in tennis strategy from an offensive to a defensive approach; a testament to both his brilliance and the merciless era he inhabited. He represented the United States in the Davis Cup throughout his career. Although he has not won a single memorable match there, his contribution to the 2007 success was the biggest.

Career record: 612–213 [ 225 events ]
Career titles: 32
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2003, 05, 07, 09; quarterfinal 2004, 10)
Wimbledon (runner-up 2004-05 & 09; semifinal 2003; quarterfinal 2007)
US Open (champion 2003; runner-up 2006; quarterfinal 2001-02, 04, 07-08, 11)
Davis Cup champion 2007

Year-end ranking 2000-2012: 158 – 14 – 10 – 1 – 2 – 3 – 6 – 6 – 8 – 7 – 8 – 14 – 39

Born: February 2, 1966 in Moscow (Moskva Oblast in Soviet Union)
Height: 1.87 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)

Андрей Эдуардович Чесноков… In the Soviet era, the name ‘Андрей’ was transcribed as ‘Andrei’ in line with rigid state conventions, but post-USSR, the more phonetic ‘Andrey’ became standard – a subtle marker of changing times. On my website, you’ll find both forms for him and Andrey Cherkasov – the second-best Russian player in the early 90s – reflecting this linguistic shift.
Chesnokov was a specialist of saving his best tennis for the biggest stages. This most accomplished Russian born in the 60s, contested fifteen main-level finals, with five (Monte Carlo and Rome ’90, Montreal ’91, Indian Wells ’92, Hamburg ’93) of his last seven occurring at Masters Series events (then called Mercedes Super 9). The explanation for this clutch performance might lie in financial motivation – having begun his career under the Soviet Union’s communist regime, he seemed galvanized by higher stakes.
Chesnokov’s 1980s statements often revealed the surreal pressures of his era. During the 1988 Antwerp exhibition final against John McEnroe, he sprained his ankle in the second set of a ‘best-of-five’ match. Despite the hopeless odds on fast carpet against a superior opponent, he soldiered on, limping through five more games. “I said I cannot play anymore,” Chesnokov admitted, “but He said, <You must!>” He refused to identify who pressured him: “It is my secret.” The year 1988 may be considered as his best, the most consistent. He won 73% of his matches (47-17 record with Antwerp); admittedly he captured just one title (Orlando), but played four more finals on three surfaces (including Antwerp, deprived of ranking points), and two Grand Slam quarterfinals.
The following year, he reached his career pinnacle at Roland Garros, ousting defending champion Mats Wilander in straight sets (he had done the same in 1986) en route to the semifinals. Even then, he shrouded his earnings in mystery: “I want to keep my secret about prize money. I will take some, maybe not $73,000. Maybe a little less. Maybe $72,000. Maybe I’ll buy a ticket to the United States before going back to Moscow,” he joked, referring to communistic collectivism.
In 2019, a former Soviet player (also born in the 1960s) told me at Lago di Garda that Chesnokov – despite neither he nor Alexander Volkov (second best Russian born in the 60s) cracking the USSR’s top five – had somehow slipped the Iron Curtain first, competing globally even before Mikhail Gorbachev’s perestroika loosened the regime’s grip.
In 1985, being completely unknown, Chesnokov made a trip to Paris, went through the qualifying rounds and stunned the Top 10 player, Eliot Teltscher in the second round before losing to Heintz Günthardt in the third round after one of the longest matches of the 80s at Roland Garros (it lasted 4 hours 40 minutes). “Before this tournament I thought they (the international touring pros) were so strong. But now I realize they can be beaten.” said Chesnokov, a physical education student at a special Moscow sports institute, ranked 307th in the world on the ATP computer.
Trivia: Before Isner-Mahut’s legendary marathon, Chesnokov had already etched his name into tennis history with one of the longest sets in the Open Era. In a freakish coincidence, I met him just as Isner and Mahut – near their court – were beginning the third set. When I asked him about the duration of his 1987 Davis Cup epic 1st set against Michiel Schapers (Chesnokov won 24-22, 1-6, 6-2, 6-2), he replied without hesitation: “Two hours, fifty-seven minutes.” Likely the longest non-deciding set ever played.
Chesnokov’s Davis Cup heroics didn’t stop there. In the 1995 Moscow semifinal, he saved nine match points in a single game on return (!) to topple Michael Stich in a decisive rubber. Later that year, in the Moscow final, he pushed Pete Sampras to the brink on the same, exceptionally slow clay – a surface that left the world No. 1 so exhausted after match point that he collapsed, unable to walk. Had Chesnokov saved one more match point, who knows? Another miracle might have been born. From a technical standpoint, Chesnokov’s backhand was the weapon he could most rely on, the type of shot that gives you the impression he can’t miss if the ball is close to the left side of his body at the torso level.

Career record: 344–259 [ 244 events ]
Career titles: 7
Highest ranking: No. 9
Best GS results:
Australian Open (quarterfinal 1988)
Roland Garros (semifinal 1989; quarterfinal 1986, 1988)

Born: March 4, 1974 in Bratislava  (Západoslovenský kraj in Czechoslovakia)
Height: 1.87 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)

As a junior, he represented Czechoslovakia and was a member of the Galea Cup team in 1991-92. In those years he played his first ATP matches, in Praha. A protégé of Miloslav Mečíř, the gold medalist from Seoul ’88, he followed in the footsteps of his mentor, the “Big Cat,” with his own intelligent style of play – a style perfectly aligned with the technological advancements of the 1990s, which emphasized power, contrasting with the finesse and improvisation that defined Mečíř’s game a decade before. Nicknamed the “Little Cat,” Kučera became, alongside Dominik Hrbatý, the co-leader of the Slovakian squad for over a decade in various team competitions after Czechoslovakia’s dissolution in 1993 (he’s one of a few players born in the 70s to participate three times at the Olympics).
Kučera, like ten years older Mečíř, often seemed to play tennis in slow motion, yet with surgical precision. Despite not being one of the fastest players on tour, he was extremely difficult to outmaneuver from the baseline, as his anticipation allowed him to be well-prepared for his flat, well-placed strokes off both wings. Much like his tutor Mečíř, Kučera had no trouble adapting to faster surfaces (grass, carpet), frequently employing serve-and-volley tactics behind his first serve.
Early in his professional career, he was known for having a negative aces-to-double-faults ratio. This changed after he began working with Mečíř in 1997. Before that collaboration, Kučera had already claimed his first title, on grass at Rosmalen ’95, although never having won a professional match on the surface before. A year later, he pushed three-time defending champion Pete Sampras to four sets at Wimbledon, signaling his potential (just weeks after another tight four-set battle at Roland Garros against Jim Courier, during which he sprained his right ankle – a lingering injury that plagued him for the rest of his career, often forcing him to play with ankle protection).
The pinnacle of Kučera’s career came in 1998. In January, he was the hottest player on tour: first, he triumphed at the Hopman Cup (partnering with Karina Habšudová), then won the title in Sydney, and reached his only Grand Slam semifinal at the Australian Open, stunning (6-4, 6-2, 6-7, 6-3) Sampras in the quarterfinals. In the first two sets, he was passing the world’s best player with an ease that was unparalleled on hard courts in the mid-’90s. Later that year, at the US Open, he defeated the second-best player of the decade, Andre Agassi, in the fourth round (6-3, 6-3, 6-7, 1-6, 6-3). With those two victories, Kučera briefly stood atop the tennis world in a metaphorical sense. These wins gave him a legitimate belief that he could capture at least one big title. However, his best opportunity slipped away at the 1998 Grand Slam Cup in München. He lost a semifinal match he should have won against Agassi, while Marcelo Ríos awaited in the final. At the time, Kucera led their Head-to-Head 3:2, making it a golden opportunity. His most significant title ultimately came in Basel ’99, where he survived one of the tightest ATP finals of the decade, defeating his most frequent (6-5 H2H including a dead DC rubber) opponent Tim Henman 6-4, 7-6, 4-6, 4-6, 7-6 in a four-hour battle – despite winning three points fewer than the Brit.
By 2005, at the age of 31, he played his farewell season, actually only the second half of it. His previous year had been the least successful since 1993, and for years he had struggled with wrist and arm injuries. That final season was largely unremarkable, but in an unexpected twist, he nearly concluded his career in a dream scenario. Slovakia reached the Davis Cup final, primarily thanks to Hrbatý and Karol Beck (b. 1982). However, Beck was suspended for using illegal substances, forcing Kučera into the opening rubber against Ivan Ljubičić, which he lost quickly. On the deciding Sunday, with a chance to play his final match in a career-defining moment, his former coach Mečíř instead appointed Michal Mertiňák – a player with no experience at the highest level, who lost in straight sets to Mario Ančić. It marked the third time that a widely recognized player, in the twilight of his career, was not ready to compete in a crucial rubber that could have secured a Davis Cup title for his country (following Stefan Edberg 1996 and Patrick Rafter 2001).

Career record: 293–244 [ 237 events ]
Career titles: 6
Highest ranking: No. 6
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 1998; quarterfinal 1999)
US Open (quarterfinal 1998)
Hopman Cup champion 1998
World Team Cup champion 2000