Born: January 1, 1982 in Unquillo (Córdoba)
Height: 1.79 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Alongside Andre Agassi(an) Աղասյան and Sargis Sargsian Սարգսյան, David Nalbandian Նալբանդյան belongs to a small group of prominent former tennis players with Armenian roots (his grandfather came to Argentina, and built a cement court in his backyard, little David started his tennis adventure on this court) – his surname means “one who makes horseshoes”; Agassian comes from ‘Aghasi’, meaning “noble,” while Sargsian (b. 1973, the best Armenian in history) derives from ‘Sarkis’, meaning “protector.” They all three faced each other, unexpectedly Sargsian won his only meeting against Nalbandian.
I don’t think of Nalbandian as “the best player of the Open Era without a major title,” but it’s legitimate 
to call him that when comparing players born in the 80s by their skill set. At the twilight of the Pete Sampras/Agassi era, I even thought that one day he’d become the best player in the world, but at the time it was tough to expect Roger Federer‘s cosmic ascendancy, and other great players were either too young (Rafael Nadal) or unknown (Novak Đoković, Andy Murray).
Distinctive & bold competitor anyway – no doubt about it. As a smart tactician he could afford to play on every surface on his own terms. It’s a domain of exceptionally gifted players, who possess all shots in their repertoires – he was one of them. Obviously, he will be remembered as someone with a terrific two-handed backhand, but I’d like to pay close attention to his one-handed skills; usually, “two-handed guys” don’t play slice backhands and volleys with Nalbandian’s finesse. His first serve was never a serious weapon, but his second serve, often neglected in analysis, was very efficient, giving him the edge during baseline rallies.
I wish he had won the Davis Cup at least once – I think he deserved it, leading the team to the 2006, 2008 & 2011 finals, defeating very good players in those finals (especially the 2008 final was very unfortunate for the Argentinians). On the other hand, he was the only guy besides two players (Àlex Corretja & Nikolay Davydenko) with comparable achievements to his, capturing the ‘Masters’ (2005) without having a major title under his belt – I consider his triumph in Shanghai as some kind of compensation for unsuccessful Davis Cup finals, a miracle, given the progress of that final and the man he had overcame there…
A crucial match in Nalbandian’s career, in my opinion, came at the Australian Open ’04. The Argentine, having advanced to the Wimbledon ’02 final (which he lost quickly) two years earlier, and the dramatic US Open semifinal a few months before, had the required experience to realistically think about winning a major in 2004. Then came a quarterfinal meeting against Federer, whom Nalbandian had recently defeated in the US Open 4th round – the Swiss avenged that loss in four sets, presenting a completely different game-style, improving their H2H to 2:5 (eventually won it 11-8). You never know what would have happened if something in the past had been slightly changed. My casual thought is that it was the key match for the paths of both players…
Three times in his career, Nalbandian had moments of tremendous glory. For the first time at the aforementioned Wimbledon ’02, when, as an unseeded player, he advanced to the final with actually non-existent grass-court familiarity as a pro; then in Shanghai ’05, when he triumphed in the year-end championships, defeating Federer, who was on a 35-match winning streak and on the verge of a magnificent comeback to notch his 36th win in a row; and for the third time in autumn 2007, when he claimed the two biggest indoor events of the regular season (Madrid & Paris), defeating in both events the best players at the time Federer & Nadal, each of them twice, as well as a younger Đoković (in Spain).
From 2008 onwards, he played below expectations – perhaps it made an impact on his nervousness, which manifested itself in a rare Queen’s Club ’12 final featuring a disqualification: Nalbandian unintentionally kicked the linesman, causing his bleeding. Following that incident, Nalbandian played only ten more events, the last one in Florida, where he had begun his main-level journey thirteen years earlier – where, being ranked 473, as a qualifier he almost defeated the former No. 1 Jim Courier (for whom it was the last victory of his career)… In 2021, Nalbandian briefly returned to the tour as a coach, working with Miomir Kecmanović, but was unable to turn the Serb into a “first league player.”
Career record: 383–192 [ 193 events ]
Career titles: 11
Highest ranking: No. 3
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2006; quarterfinal 2003-05)
Roland Garros (semifinal 2004 & 2006)
Wimbledon (runner-up 2002; quarterfinal 2005)
US Open (semifinal 2003; quarterfinal 2005)
Masters champion 2005
Born: April 11, 1974 in Barcelona (Cataluña)
Height: 1.80 m
Plays: Right-handed
He grew up in La Salut – the best club in Barcelona, where players such as Manuel Orantes and Juan Aguilera had previously trained. His two older brothers also played tennis, but they weren’t as passionate about it as Álex. His brother Iván even won the national championships at the age of 14, but a serious car accident led to the amputation of his leg. Álex won the Orange Bowl 16s title in 1990 and turned professional the following year, reaching a semifinal in his Challenger debut (Sevilla). In 1992, he notched valuable wins over very experienced older compatriots (Sergio Casal and 
Emilio Sánchez) in his first ATP events. Later that year, he played his first ATP final (Guarujá), where he lost to Carsten Arriens from Germany (b. 1969, his only main-level final).
The years 1993-94 established him as a dangerous clay-courter who could also be unpredictable on hard courts (in 1994 he defeated Jim Courier and Stefan Edberg in Indianapolis). The years 1995-96 brought generally disappointment (in 1996 he reached the Hamburg final though), especially on clay – Corretja defeated the virtually unbeatable Thomas Muster in Gstaad ’95, only to lose in the following round to Jakob Hlasek, who was already talking about his upcoming retirement.
The turning point in Corretja’s career came at the 1996 US Open (one year before he led two-sets-to-one there against Andre Agassi) – not only did he reach his first major quarterfinal, he also held a match point in an astonishingly tight encounter against Pete Sampras. Each of them won 188 points and struck 25 aces. It was a huge boost of confidence for the Spaniard, who realised that all the hard work he had put into improving his serve had paid off.
Even though Corretja began the 1997 season with seven consecutive defeats (including an accidental Challenger appearance – his only one between 1994 and 2003), he went on to enjoy a very successful year, establishing himself among the Top 5 clay-court players (two Mercedes Super 9 finals against Marcelo Ríos – Monte Carlo and Rome). The year 1998 was by far the best of his career. He had already won three titles (one on clay, two on hard courts) when he arrived in Lyon to begin the indoor season – with a 1:12 record indoors – humiliating for a player of his caliber. Corretja captured the title, saving a match point in the second set against Tommy Haas in the final. It was played on carpet indoors, and the title guaranteed him participation at the “Masters” (Hanover), held on indoor hard courts.
Corretja, already with his first indoor title under his belt, felt very confident. He took advantage of favorable “round robin” circumstances – Agassi’s retirement and Ríos’ withdrawal. Sampras seemed unstoppable, but Corretja found a way to take sweet revenge for the New York loss – he saved three match points to win 7/3 in the deciding tie-break. In my opinion, it’s been the most valuable victory of his career, even though Corretja would be Sampras also in five sets on grass (Davis Cup 2002).
The final against Carlos Moyá (whom he had faced a few months earlier in the French Open final) was open to many possible scenarios. Based on their Head-to-Head, the younger Spaniard was a heavy favorite – Moyá had won all three of their 1998 meetings in straight sets and seemed on his way to a fourth as he easily grabbed the first two sets and created two mini-match points at 5-all. Corretja fought them off and came back from a 1:3* (30/40) deficit in the decider to survive the four-hour battle.
That triumph unexpectedly opened a path for Corretja to become the world No. 1 at the 1999 Australian Open. He needed a semifinal showing, but was already beaten in the second round by the average Christian Ruud. Similar opportunities didn’t arise again, but Corretja maintained a high level on all surfaces for several more years, and captured his second Masters 1K title triumphing at Indian Wells. His elegant movement and heavy topspin off both wings were his main assets. The year 2000 brought a new face of Corretja – a doubles specialist; he won a bronze medal at the Sydney Olympics (alongside Albert Costa) and was victorious in three of four doubles rubbers in the Davis Cup, including the final against Australia.
Certainly, he could have won Roland Garros – it didn’t happen (though he reached at least the quarterfinals five years in a row, including another final in 2001) – but I believe that magnificent triumph in Hanover compensates for the Parisian setbacks.
Trivia: in the late ’90s, Corretja introduced an unorthodox shot to the tour – when running to his backhand side, he was able to strike the ball with the forehand face of his racquet, using a sudden flick of the wrist.
After retirement, Corretja coached Andy Murray (2008-11) and the Spanish Davis Cup team (2012-13), then, as grey hair appeared on his head, he switched to commentary. His legacy places him among the best Open Era players never to win a major final.
Career record: 438–281 [ 293 events ]
Career titles: 17
Highest ranking: No. 2
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (runner-up 1998 and 2001; semifinal 2002; quarterfinal 1999-00)
US Open (quarterfinal 1996)
Masters champion 1998
Davis Cup champion 2000 (played doubles in the final)
Born: May 24, 1987 in San Remo (Liguria)
Height: 1.78 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Centre Court at a Slam, especially losing to one of the elite players in the world, presents a fitting stage to conclude a career. One month ago, this unfolded for Richard Gasquet, who stood no chance against Jannik Sinner in the second round of Roland Garros; at Wimbledon ’25, Fognini played his final match, facing Carlos Alcaraz in the first round. Fognini’s case differs slightly from Gasquet’s – the Frenchman declared beforehand that the event would mark his farewell, whereas Fognini’s decision to retire at age 38 crystallised days after a gruelling 4½-hour defeat to Alcaraz. The premier Italian born in the 1980s astonished the tennis community, pushing the two-time defending champion to the 
brink despite battling injuries in recent years and losing his status as a regular ATP contender. “I think it is the best way to say goodbye,” admitted Fognini, departing the professional circuit as Italian tennis reaches unprecedented strength. “It wasn’t easy because the last three years of my career I was suffering a lot with injury. But as a competitor, I tried to do my best every time I stepped on court. Winning a Slam for me was impossible. I have to be honest. I’m happy the way I say goodbye to the professional tennis career. I did my best.”
I hadn’t considered him deeply until I witnessed his fourth-round match at Roland Garros ’11 against Albert Montañés on Suzanne Lenglen court (photo). It ranks among the most remarkable matches I’ve ever observed. The Italian fought off five match points in the decider despite being hampered by injury. I was astounded by two aspects:
– Fognini executed perfect shots with daring risk from both flanks despite limited mobility;
– knowing Montañés’ prowess, I recognised he wasn’t a player to squander match points when victory loomed.
For the Spaniard, it was also a rare chance to reach a major quarterfinal, perhaps heightening his tension; nonetheless, my impression was that Fognini clinched that “thriller” largely due to his extraordinary flair for shot-making. He had to withdraw from the quarterfinal, giving a walkover for the first time in his career.
Soon afterwards, I reviewed Fognini’s results and realized this resilience wasn’t coincidental. The player, already an ATP contender years prior, had secured qualifying victories like 17/15 (Simone Bolelli), 10/8 (Lamine Ouahab), or 11/9 (Alberto Martín) in deciding third-set tiebreaks. Indeed, in Paris a year before toppling Montañés, Fognini first drew notice with a gripping match on Philippe Chatrier court against Gaël Monfils. Fognini squandered three match points at 5:4 in the decider amid a dispute with the chair umpire, with play suspended at 9:55 p.m. The next day, the Italian survived one mini-match point at 5-all and another at 6-all to prevail 9-7 in the fifth set.
A temperamental player, occasionally displaying deplorable conduct – hurling racquets, berating those nearby – Fognini became remarkably difficult to overcome when nearing victory. I struggle to name another player born in the 1980s prone to such dramatic swings; he might have lost five games consecutively, then seize six in a row, only to drop four more. Examples of his three-set roller coasters abound. Consider these extremes: Santiago ’11, Fognini led Thomaz Bellucci 4:0 in the third set, then rallied from 4:5 (0/30) to win 1-6, 6-2, 7-6. Two years later against Monfils (again!) in Umag, he led 5:0, 5:3 (40/15) in the third, only to save two match points at 5:6 with audacious play, exiting as the victor with a 6-0, 3-6, 7-6 scoreline. That triumph over Monfils capped the finest stretch of his career, when he claimed two titles (his first at age 26, both on clay in Germany: Stuttgart and Hamburg) and amassed 13 consecutive wins before being overwhelmed in the final by Tommy Robredo. Two years earlier, their Santiago semifinal ended in a heated exchange, with Fognini labelling his rival “Hombre de mierda,” forgoing a handshake. Fognini, much like Hicham Arazi, flourished in the spotlight. When facing a theoretically superior opponent before a lively, impromptu crowd, he unleashed his finest tennis, as the burden wasn’t his to bear. Rafael Nadal knows this well – the “King of Clay” fell to Fognini four times in 18 meetings (thrice on clay!). The last defeat came when Fognini secured the pinnacle title of his career (Monte Carlo ’19). The Italian stunned the eleven-time champion in the semifinal, then overcame Dušan Lajović in an unforeseen final (having narrowly escaped elimination in the first round, trailing *1:4 to Andrey Rublev in the decider, saving five mini-match points). “I was preparing for the match as best I can because he has my ex-coach and I knew it was going to be really tough, a lot of running,” Fognini remarked after the final.
Fognini’s most memorable Grand Slam victory, showcasing his extraordinary talent, occurred at the US Open ’15, where he stunned Nadal in five sets despite losing the first two sets, achieving what seemed impossible for years – Nadal faltering after taking the opening sets. To accomplish this, Fognini played from the baseline with otherworldly precision in the latter stages of the decider, as if in a trance.
I’m uncertain how to explain why Pablo Carreño Busta was Fognini’s toughest adversary aside from David Ferrer (0-11) and Novak Đoković. Fognini lost eight times to the Serb (at the main level, once defeating him in a qualifying round at Rome ’06). Fognini required constant encouragement from his bench during an ATP Cup ’21 tie between Italy and Spain to overcome Carreño, having fallen in their initial seven encounters. Admittedly, the volatile Italian never won a set against Roger Federer (they met only four times), but among players born in the 1980s, he joins a select group with a positive record against Andy Murray – Fognini edged their rivalry 5-4, including their sole match where both were close to victory at the match’s conclusion (Shanghai ’19), an encounter marked by a heated argument between them.
Career record: 426-396 [ 394 events ]
Career titles: 9
Highest ranking: 9
Best GS result:
Roland Garros (quarterfinal 2011)
Born: July 13, 1961 in Lidköping (Västra Götaland)
Height: 1.80 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Järryd’s appearances in main-level finals spanned sixteen years, with losses marking both his first (Båstad 1981) and last final (Rosmalen 1995). Above all, he was an outstanding doubles player – winning all four Grand Slam tournaments (capturing a total of eight major titles) and the Masters thrice. For over a decade, he was a cornerstone of the Swedish Davis Cup team, primarily 
as a doubles specialist. Still, it’s worth highlighting that in the 1987 final against India, he was unexpectedly selected to play singles instead of the higher-ranked Stefan Edberg, and rose to the occasion. [ Järryd and his regular doubles partner for roughly three years – Edberg – had secured Sweden’s second Davis Cup victory (1984) by defeating an excellent American pair. ]
Two years earlier, facing India again, he and Edberg played an unforgettable opening set lasting two and a half hours, against the Amritraj brothers – winning it 21-19, before closing out the match 2-6, 6-3, 6-4. Between 1983 and 1989, Järryd participated in six out of seven successive Davis Cup finals for Sweden (excluded in 1985 – paradoxically the year when he helped his nation the most in reaching the final) – once as a singles player and five times as a doubles mainstay, partnering three different countrymen: Henrik Simonsson, Edberg, and Jan Gunnarsson.
Apart from his Swedish partnerships, Järryd also found great success with Australian John Fitzgerald, particularly in the biggest doubles events. His career draws a natural comparison to Jonas Björkman, eleven years younger. Both were more animated than average Swedish players, natural baseliners with two-handed backhands yet inclined to attacking the net, and both achieved immense success in doubles – relying more on quick reflexes than classic volleying finesse. Järryd amassed 8 singles titles and 58 doubles titles, while Björkman earned 6 in singles and 54 in doubles. Both had a deep love for representing Sweden in team competitions. Björkman, like Järryd, achieved his greatest successes thanks to his collaboration with an Australian – Todd Woodbridge (three Wimbledon titles in a row included).
Initially known as a clay-courter, Järryd’s extensive doubles schedule turned him into a dangerous floater on faster surfaces. On grass, he played his best Slam singles tournament at Wimbledon 1985; on carpet, he claimed his biggest singles title in Dallas (1986). Notably, between 1984 and 1994, he played fifteen main-level finals – all indoors (two on hard courts).
In 1993, Järryd experienced a late-career singles resurgence: as a qualifier, he stunned Boris Becker in the Australian Open first round. That victory earned him a wild card in Rotterdam, where he won the title. In just two months, he soared from world no. 151 to 77 – but it was his swan song. For the next three years, he alternated between Challengers and main-tour events.
Thanks to his longevity and exceptional doubles career, Järryd deserves recognition as the third-greatest Swede of the golden era (Joakim Nyström, Henrik Sundström & Kent Carlsson: they seemed destined for greater things than Järryd, but all of them retired prematurely) – behind only Mats Wilander and Edberg, even if his singles résumé doesn’t compare. Like Wilander and five years younger Edberg, Järryd retired in 1996 – they did it respectively in October, November, and July.
Career record: 396–261 [ 261 events ]
Career titles: 8
Highest ranking: No. 5
Best GS results:
Australian Open (quarterfinal 1987-88)
Wimbledon (semifinal 1985, quarterfinal 1987)
US Open (quarterfinal 1985)
Davis Cup champion 1984, 85 (didn’t play the final) and 87
World Team Cup champion 1988
Born: April 29, 1970 in Las Vegas (Nevada)
Height: 1.80 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
A prodigy, he was just 4 years old when he traded shots with the era’s top players: Ilie Năstase, Harold Solomon, and teenage Björn Borg. His father, Emanoul Aghassian (a former Armenian professional boxer who represented Iran at the Olympics in 1948 and 1952), placed tennis balls in his cradle. Aghassian – aka Mike Agassi – described his three older children as “guinea pigs” in refining the techniques he employed to shape Andre into a world-class athlete. The young Agassi captivated audiences as 
the most thrilling teenager to watch in the late 1980s; at age 18 (six titles in 1988, two in the “best of five’ finals – Memphis & Forest Hills), many envisioned him as a contender for the greatest player in history. His baseline strikes from both wings were ferocious, introducing a bold innovation to the tour – no one before him played with such aggression from within the court often striking just after the bounce; incoming deep shots posed no challenge due to his superb coordination, earning him the title of the most assertive baseliner ever… admittedly he lost his first two Slam semifinals (French Open & US Open), but to the best players in the world at the time.
The year 1989 marked a reversal, however; instead of claiming his first major(s), Agassi slipped in the ATP rankings (played only one big final – Rome), revealing certain flaws in his game:
– outdated landing on his right leg after the serve;
– a highly erratic game-style (low percentage of first serves in, impulsive net charges, occasional retreating on second-serve returns, expending excessive energy in the initial two hours);
– positioning himself inside the court as a receiver rendered him susceptible to failing to return more serves than his peers (however, this tactic proved a double-edged sword: Agassi maintained this stance throughout his career and was regarded as the finest returner of his era, as his counterattack became devastating whenever he accurately anticipated the serve’s trajectory);
– a front-runner mentality: he dominated many matches effortlessly, but on off days, he grew disheartened, resistant to adjusting tactics, reluctant to battle… projecting an attitude of <<I’ll win on my terms: if I can’t, I’d rather lose than win unattractively>>
I have no doubt that Agassi ranks as the second-best player of the 1990s (behind Pete Sampras) and a Top 10 Open Era player among retirees, largely due to his endurance – he’s a multiple Grand Slam champion, though reflecting on his journey, two alternate paths seem plausible:
– he could indeed have emerged as the greatest in history (at least during his era’s close);
– he might have achieved far less had he not unearthed the resolve to explore new strategies and restart
The setbacks of 1989 paled in comparison to those in 1993 (dropping to No. 31) and 1997 (plummeting to No. 141 – competing in Challengers for the first time since his teenage years, a humbling experience for someone who, just two years prior, had reigned as the world’s best!). Agassi first approached the tennis summit in late 1990 – in commanding fashion, he conquered the Masters, defeating the era’s top two players in his final two matches, then secured the opening rubber of the Davis Cup final, enabling the USA to overcome Australia by Saturday. There was little doubt that Agassi, with an enhanced serve, was destined for his inaugural Grand Slam title in the early 90s, yet it wasn’t to be – he lost in Paris (1990 and 1991) his first two finals as well as his first US Open final. The challenge was compounded by Agassi’s schedule – in his early career, he avoided trips to Australia (skipping the event in the years 1988-94!) and Britain (skipping Wimbledon in the years 1988-90). Ironically, his first major triumph came on a surface he feared after a lesson from Henri Leconte at Wimbledon ’87. In 1991, he mastery of his baseline ground-strokes, nearly reaching the semifinal (a dramatic, peculiar loss to David Wheaton). The following year, he subdued the grass-court elite in his last three matches, first overcoming Boris Becker and John McEnroe – former multiple champions of the event – then the future titlist Goran Ivanišević in a tight five-setter, despite the Croat appearing invincible with serves surpassing anyone else during the fortnight.
Two distinct years of Agassi’s career merit special recognition: 1995 and 1999. In 1995, his second coach (Brad Gilbert succeeded Nick Bollettieri) dedicated himself fully to his first of three “Andrews,” and finally, Sampras – after years of unchallenged supremacy (1993-94) – faced a worthy adversary. Their riveting rivalry of the mid-90s ignited in Paris ’94 and persisted until the US Open ’95 final, where Agassi was a slight favorite but fell in four sets, a defeat that distanced him from ending the year at the top. In 1999, triumphing at Roland Garros under extraordinarily tense circumstances throughout the tournament (i.a. he began his relationship with the best female player of the 90s – his future wife – Steffi Graf), Agassi turned into the first fully Open Era player to win all four majors (his first US Open title came in 1994, first Aussie Open a few months later)! The others to achieve a career Grand Slam were Fred Perry, Don Budge, Roy Emerson, and Rod Laver. Budge and Laver (twice) accomplished it in a single year. Laver descended to the court to present the trophy to Agassi. “To be assigned a place among some of the game’s greatest players is an honor I’ll cherish 
for the rest of my life,” Agassi said through tears. “I never dreamed I’d ever return here after so many years; I’m so proud. I’ll never forget this. I’m truly fortunate.” Later that year he claimed the US Open title in another five-set final which significantly helped him to finish the year as the world’s No. 1 at last.
Two phases define Agassi’s illustrious career, distinguished by his hair or its absence: 1986-94, when he sported long dyed hair, colourful outfit and chaos reigned in nearly every aspect of his on-court performance, and 1995-2006 [especially under Darren Cahill, who replaced Gilbert in 2002, becoming the oldest player ever (at the time) ranked world No. 1 in May 2003, mainly thanks to his last Slam title & capturing Miami], when he was bald, wearing a classical attire, and relentless in executing tactical plans; irrespective of this dual nature, Agassi was universally admired worldwide, though at times highly controversial (defaulted twice, arguably deserving default on several additional occasions)… Agassi is one of barely three players in history to have completed the Golden Slam, winning all four Grand Slam titles and Olympic singles gold.
Career record: 870–274 [ 320 events ]
Career titles: 60
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (champion 1995, 2000-01, 2003; semifinal 1996 & 04; quarterfinal ’05)
Roland Garros (champion 1999; runner-up 1990-91; semifinal 1988 & 92; quarterfinal 1995, 2001-03)
Wimbledon (champion 1992; runner-up 1999; semifinal 1995, 00-01; quarterfinal 1991 & 93)
US Open (champion 1994, 99; runner-up 1990, 95, 02, 05; semifinal 1988-89, 96 & 03; quarterfinal 92, 01, 04)
Masters champion 1990
Davis Cup champion 1990, 92 & 95 (didn’t play in the final)
Olympic Gold medal 1996
Year-end ranking 1986-2005: 91 – 25 – 3 – 7 – 4 – 10 – 9 – 24 – 2 – 2 – 8 – 110 – 6 – 1 – 6 – 3 – 2 – 4 – 8 – 7 – 150
Born: March 22, 1975 in Zlín (Jihomoravský kraj in Czechoslovakia)
Height: 1.91 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
A man with flushed cheeks. I’d describe him as “a milder version of Yevgeny Kafelnikov” – both native Slavic speakers, of identical height, flat hitters, with unremarkable serves and restrained demeanour (the Russian more agitated, Novák rarely displaying emotions); shrewd baseliners disinterested in excessively prolonged rallies, occasional net assailants despite frequent doubles participation where they routinely employed serve-and-volley tactics… Kafelnikov somehow navigated a notably more triumphant career. At times, observing certain players, it’s genuinely challenging to 
account for the disparity in their accomplishments.
Novák managed to overcome all the premier players of his generation, except Gustavo Kuerten (never encountering either Jim Courier or Michael Chang); some of those victories were truly astonishing: 7-6, 6-3, 6-2 over Pete Sampras (Davis Cup ’00 in the United States!); two years later 7-5, 6-1 over Andre Agassi; and a commanding 6-1, 6-1 (!) over his refined counterpart – Kafelnikov in Dubai ’02! He was fortunate or skillful enough to also prevail against the young Roger Federer as many as four times (Gstaad ’03 the most important match) and emerging talents Rafael Nadal (Nadal’s Davis Cup debut, afterwards the great Spaniard won 29 consecutive matches in those competitions) and Andy Murray, once each. It’s noteworthy that Novák ranked among the most formidable early adversaries for Federer; the Swiss maestro edged their Head-to-Head just 5-4 (two wins in the finals included: Vienna ’02 and Dubai ’03), consistently faltering in their tighter contests.
Novák came tantalizingly close to a big title twice in 2002:
– the first instance in the Australian Open semifinal, where he stood six points from defeating Thomas Johansson, who ultimately claimed the title… could he have bested Marat Safin in the final too? Perhaps, given their 1-1 H2H record, with Novák winning their sole Slam encounter;
– the second instance in Madrid, where he withdrew from the final against Agassi due to a leg injury he suffered at the end of his semifinal… could he have triumphed over the renowned American? Possibly, considering he overwhelmed him weeks later in Shanghai (earlier that year they’d faced each other in Rome semifinal and the match was balanced)
Trivia:
– his first two ATP events came in Praha (years 1993-94), falling twice to Sergi Bruguera, who arrived in the Czech capital as a Roland Garros champion on both occasions.
– within half a year, he toppled Carlos Moyá twice, saving match points each time – first in the aforementioned Madrid (indoors), then at the World Team Cup (outdoors). He secured 13 of his 18 doubles titles alongside David Rikl (born 1971), Kafelnikov’s initial doubles partner, incidentally.
Career record: 337-260 [ 259 events ]
Career titles: 7
Highest ranking: No. 5
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2002)
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, then triumphed in Bordeaux, Basel & Tel Aviv; 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 the red 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
