…next year, I won’t be comparing seasons 1994 and 2024. Instead, I plan to post short biographies that I’ve written for my e-book “…from Phil Dent to Jannik Sinner…” (published in March 2021) focusing on the best singles players of the Open Era. I’ve included 340 short biographies in the e-book and intend to share over 100 on my website. These will be slightly modified versions, adjusted to suit my website and hyperlinked. This project will be titled
“…from John McEnroe (b. 1959) to Kei Nishikori (b. 1989)”
aiming to showcase the best players of the past forty years, spanning the most successful individuals from the 1980s, 90s, 00s, and 10s. This year in December, I’ve already posted fifteen biographies. Next two years, I aim to post between 3 to 7 biographies each month. Whether it’ll be completed within those two years remains uncertain; it largely depends on potential retirements. Notably, ten very good/great players born in the 80s are still active as of the end of 2023. You can find the links to the biographies here. Additionally, I’ll continue to post picture-stats of the most significant matches from the Open Era. Furthermore, I’ll keep posting pic-stats of Federer’s finals. As of the end of 2023, there are 138 out of his 157 finals available on my website; I guess the remaining 19 finals will be posted by the end of 2025. This means 87% of his finals are wrapped up, it’s 84% in Đoković’s case, 83% in Nadal’s.
Rivalry at the Top
In 1993, the entire season was captivated by the rivalry between two US players: Pete Sampras and Jim Courier. One year older Courier continued his astounding form on clay and hardcourts, which had begun at Indian Wells ’91, while Sampras finally lived up to the expectations set by his US Open ’90 title. However, the latter part of the season saw an abrupt end to this rivalry. Courier lost his form, and concurrently, Michael Stich, who had been relatively successful earlier in the season, surged, dominating the autumn of ’93. Looking back, Stich may be regarded as the most successful player in the final quarter of the season, clinching three indoor titles, two of which were highly prestigious (especially Frankfurt), and leading Germany to victories over Sweden and Australia in the Davis Cup, triumphing over almost all the top-ranked players of that time.
Thirty years later, the first half of the season was marked by a rivalry among three players: Novak Đoković, Carlos Alcaraz, and Daniil Medvedev. Jannik Sinner joined in the latter part of the season, initially in a more cautious mode as his Wimbledon semifinal and victory in Toronto were partially due to very favorable draws. In the autumn, he ascended to a higher level, defeating all three higher-ranked players multiple times, including Medvedev thrice and Đoković twice.
The Fall
Guy Forget, one of the leading players of the early ’90s, suffered a severe injury at Hamburg ’93, sidelining him for nearly a year and causing a significant drop in rankings from no. 17 to 623. That year was critical for Ivan Lendl, the most dominant player of the ’80s, as it was the first time since his teenage years that he was unable to be competitive in the “best of five” format. He also lost his edge in crucial moments of tighter sets, a trend that continued in 1994, leading to his retirement at the age of 34. Andre Agassi, a Top 10 player from 1988 to 1992, experienced the first of his two major crises in his long career (the second would occur in 1997), resulting in a plummet to no. 24 by the end of the season.
Three decades later, more elite players had a disastrous season, especially Rafael Nadal, one of the greatest players of all time, who participated in only two events at the beginning of the year and dropped from no. 2 to 670 (two places below him is Marin Čilić, the former US Open champion, who also played just two events this year, beginning it as no. 17). Nadal’s compatriot Pablo Carreño Busta falls down from no. 13 to 606 having played three ATP events (two Challengers). Nine years younger than Nadal, Nick Kyrgios played just one event, resulting in his disappearance from the ATP ranking after being ranked no. 22. Matteo Berrettini, another significant name in the past few years, faced physical problems throughout the ’23 year, plummeting from no. 14 to 92. The 27-year-old Berrettini began and ended the year positively, first aiding Italy in reaching the final of the United Cup, and then concluding the year on the bench, motivating his younger Italian compatriots during the Davis Cup triumph.
The Rise
Nineteen-year-old Andrei Medvedev was a rising star in 1993. The Ukrainian, with a somewhat wooden yet efficient style, proved to be successful on all surfaces. Many pundits viewed him as a potential main rival for Pete Sampras in the second half of the ’90s. However, Medvedev’s peak was actually reached the following year, before he turned 20. Although four of Medvedev’s peers finished their careers with more accomplishments, in 1993, none of them was frequently mentioned in the same breath as Medvedev. Here’s a ranking comparison of the best players born in 1974 at the end of 1993:
6 – Andrei Medvedev
76 – Àlex Corretja
88 – Thomas Enqvist
102 – Yevgeny Kafelnikov
372 – Tim Henman (before his ATP debut)
Two prodigies born in 2003, Carlos Alcaraz and Holger Rune, confirmed their tremendous potential displayed a year before. As I write this, it seems they along with two years older Jannik Sinner – could create a new “Big 3” in the ’20s. However, it’s a shallow assumption that doesn’t account for super-talented players born in the mid-2000s who might emerge in a few years. The current best teenager, Arthur Fils, is ranked 36. My early estimation suggests he may have a more successful career than a fellow Frenchman, Gaël Monfils.
Veterans
The age of veterans shifted from the age of 30 to 35 over thirty years. In 1993, there were few players who could turn 30 and still pose a threat. One of them was Ivan Lendl, mentioned earlier, but at 33, he reached his physical limits. Other famous players in their thirties who were approaching the twilight of their careers included Brad Gilbert (32), Anders Järryd (32), as well as Mikael Pernfors and Henri Leconte, both at 30. The former French Open champion Andrés Gómez decided to retire at 33 in 1993 while four years older Björn Borg, the icon of the 70s, finally played the last match in his professional career, ultimately completing his retirement which had been initiated… ten years earlier. Thirty years later the most significant name to finish career is John Isner (38), a man who brought serving and playing tie-breaks to another level.
In 2023, Novak Đoković defied the age paradigm by securing three major titles and enjoying one of the best seasons of his illustrious career at the age of 36. Other players from his generation still achieved notable results: Andy Murray, only seven days older than Đoković, reached the final in Doha; 37-year-old Gaël Monfils triumphed in Stockholm; his contemporary Richard Gasquet commenced the season with a title in Auckland, and 38-year-old Stan Wawrinka was a runner-up in Umag. Feliciano López, aged 42, reached the quarterfinals in his farewell event this year (Mallorca). Thirty years ago the oldest player to win an ATP match was Jimmy Connors (41). Below is the ranking of players aged 35 and above in the Top 100:
1 – Novak Đoković
42 – Andy Murray
49 – Stan Wawrinka
74 – Gaël Monfils
76 – Richard Gasquet
Game-styles
In 1993, the trend initiated in the late ’80s/early ’90s continued, transitioning from aluminium racquets to graphite ones (Cédric Pioline was a significant exception), which led to increased serve-and-volleyers garnering points directly behind their serves, primarily focusing on tie-breaks. Notably, Pete Sampras, Michael Stich, Goran Ivanišević, and Richard Krajicek epitomized this style, contrasting with players like John McEnroe (finished his career at the end of 1992, but took part in two exhibition events of ’93), Stefan Edberg or Pat Cash (due to injury he missed the entire ’93 season), who were faithful to the chip-and-charge strategy as returners. Boris Becker stood somewhat in between; in the mid-’80s, he was a prototype for players who emerged in the early ’90s. Canadian Greg Rusedski entered the scene in 1993, known later for breaking his own records in serve-speed as well as being super dependent on tie-breaks. At that time, the magical velocity touched 200 kph (125 mph) – rarely crossed by servers. Other young player, who gathered some attention in 1993 it was Australian Patrick Rafter, a follower of the McEnroe/Edberg tradition. These two “R” native English speakers would face each other in an unexpected US Open ’97 final, and Rafter’s finesse triumphed over a show of brute force in a duel of two different S/V mindsets. Rusedski finished the year 1993 ranked 50th, Rafter 16 places below. More than four years later they’ll enter an event trying to become world’s no. 1 (Key Biscayne ’98).
At the end of 1993 in the Top 20, there were eight serve-and-volleyers, nine offensive baseliners, and three defensive baseliners (noting that Michael Chang was improving his serve, transforming into an offensive baseliner in the mid-’90s). The landscape is somewhat simplistic as players often adjusted their styles based on the surface (carpet was still popular, encouraging players to more offensive attitude indoors). The ratio of one-handed and double-handed players inside the Top 20 was pretty balanced.
In contrast, today, only two players among the Top 20 use one-handed backhands (Stefanos Tsitsipas & Grigor Dimitrov), and there’s a single style prevailing across players – offensive baselining – regardless of the surface. Among the current top twenty, only Alex de Minaur and Cameron Norrie adopt a more defensive approach during baseline exchanges. Termed “defensive baseliners,” their gameplay differs significantly from the excellent clay-courters of the mid-’90s, such as Sergi Bruguera and Thomas Muster, who operated deeper behind the baseline, with higher net clearance.
Statistical summary of these two seasons here
Born: August 8, 1981 in Basel [DeutschSchweiz]
Height: 1.85 m
Plays: Right-handed
I thought that Covid-19 would finish Federer’s career at the age of 39. He lost in the semifinal at the Australian Open ’20 to Novak Đoković playing poorly; it seemed it would be his last official appearance. Federer left nothing in the tank after the opener, which he lost despite leading 4:1* (40/0). He had defeated John Millman and Tennys Sandgren in amazing five-setters, being on the verge of defeat. Federer made the hearts of his fans beat again, but players of this kind he was usually defeating 3-0 at Slams. A few weeks after Đoković’s semifinal, Federer played (and won) an exhibition match against Rafael Nadal in Cape Town (Federer’s mother comes from South Africa), then came the pandemic and Federer wouldn’t play for six months even if he wanted to. Couldn’t it be a fitting end of his stellar career to play the last two matches against his two arch-rivals? At the end of 2020, Federer and Nadal had won 20 majors each, Đoković had won 17. Perhaps it was a driving force for Federer to make a comeback after a 13-month break to give himself a chance to win the race for the most major titles, which wasn’t pragmatic looking at the age of the biggest contenders for a GOAT nickname: Nadal is five years younger, Đoković six years younger – their styles of play have always been more demanding, but they have also been denying paradigms of tennis longevity. If Federer could realistically think about defeating them, he would theoretically be able to do this only at Wimbledon, as he couldn’t face them earlier than in the quarterfinals thanks to the Covid-related frozen ranking. Federer gave himself a last chance for the glory of a Slam champion; he subordinated the first half of the season to prepare himself for Wimbledon where he raised the trophy the record eight times (2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2012, 2017), and reached the quarterfinal where instead of the game’s giants he faced Hubert Hurkacz, a player he should have defeated firmly. It turned out that Federer’s body couldn’t bear the load of playing two weeks in the “best of five” format. Federer looked abysmal against the Pole; he lost in straight sets, which turned out to be his last professional match, but officially he confirmed his retirement more than a year later at the Laver Cup ’22 where he decided to play alongside Nadal in doubles – the Spaniard came to London only to share the moment of the last time on court together, which ended in tears of both great champions.
In modern tennis, before Federer, there was only one guy who was able to be competitive in the 40th year of life – Jimmy Connors; it’s tough to compare his times. At the highest level Federer achieved more than Connors approaching 40, as Connors, after turning 32, couldn’t play beyond the semifinals at majors. Meanwhile, in the year 2017, the almost 36-year-old Federer came back from a knee injury after a six-month break and won the Australian Open! That year he also triumphed at Wimbledon; it was a year when Đoković and Andy Murray (the best players of 2016) suffered injuries, and Federer, like many years in the past, was competing with Nadal in the race for the position of the best player of the season. Federer began to play with lower frequency, wisely choosing his events. Wimbledon ’12 meant Federer’s presumably last major title – then came a remarkable achievement five years later, when within five majors he collected another three titles (Australian Open ’18 is the last one). No matter what would happen to the end of the 2020s, Federer has guaranteed a place in history as one of the three greatest players – in the minds of many the greatest, the GOAT – and I understand it given his style of play and friendly personality. Looking back, it was tough to predict how tremendously Federer’s career would develop. It was the year 1998 when Federer played his first ATP tournaments; the number three was special because he faced Andre Agassi in the first round of Basel. Federer was shown on Eurosport for the first time, and journalists had an opportunity to write about the teenager as one of the biggest prospects in tennis (he had won Wimbledon and the Orange Bowl that year). The first full year on the tour (1999) wasn’t easy though. Federer was intertwining flashes of brilliance with annoying nonchalance; in mid-season he suffered a nine-match losing streak at the main-level. Federer’s peer Lleyton Hewitt drew more attention; in the years 2000-01, one-year-older Marat Safin and Juan Carlos Ferrero were ranked higher. In 2001 Federer defeated at Wimbledon the seven-time champion Pete Sampras in a memorable five-setter; it seemed like a handing over of the baton, but the following year, when Federer was perceived for the first time as a potential Grand Slam champion, he lost in the first round at 
Wimbledon to three-years-younger Mario Ančić in straight sets, in the first match of the Croat on a fully packed main arena. In 2001 Federer claimed his maiden title, in a main-level event No. 48; no other great champion waited so long to raise a trophy. The 20-year-old Federer was happy that the burden dropped off his shoulders, but at his age Björn Borg was already a triple Grand Slam champion, Ivan Lendl had eight Grand Prix titles and had led Czechoslovakia to Davis Cup triumph, while Sampras didn’t need to worry about money anymore, claiming a Grand Slam Cup title (receiving a check for two million dollars, having won his maiden Slam by the way). Saying that Federer would be for the 2000s someone like Borg, Lendl and Sampras in the three previous decades didn’t make sense, but time showed that he would overcome them all, significantly. Federer won his first two really big titles at the age of 22 (Wimbledon, Masters), but in my opinion the key to the astonishing achievements was his performance at the Australian Open ’04 when he advanced to No. 1 for the first time (and didn’t lose this position for more than four years, when Nadal overthrew him after an epic Wimbledon final… 237 consecutive weeks on top – it’s a record; second Connors could keep this position for “only” 160 weeks).
The event in Melbourne ’04 was so important because Federer showed his new face. The end of the 90s and the beginning of the 00s it was a time when the serve-and-volley style was still dominant. Federer grew up (just like me) admiring Boris Becker and Stefan Edberg; he stylized his tennis on these two great players, but he didn’t possess Edberg’s finesse at the net or Becker’s power. Federer’s serve was exceptionally good, but not lethal like in Sampras’ case. The young Federer reminded me most of Tim Henman (one of Federer’s toughest rivals in the first few years on tour), the permanent aspirant to the Wimbledon title. Admittedly, Federer had his first Wimbledon crown at the age of ~22, which placed him in an all-time hierarchy over Henman, but at the time I wasn’t convinced that he would win many more, given that the talent of Andy Roddick exploded that year and Ferrero looked like a “king of clay” for the entire decade; moreover Federer’s acquaintance from junior times, David Nalbandian, was playing better and better, defeating Federer in their first five professional meetings. Returning to Federer’s new face in Melbourne – he reinvented himself during the fortnight. From an offensive player who was supposed to play serve-and-volley regularly on grass and carpet indoors, and apply an attacking game on hard courts, Federer turned into an offensive baseliner. He wasn’t particularly interested in frequent attacks to the net, and the effect was thundering: Federer defeated in back-to-back four-setters his toughest opponents of the young generation – Hewitt (H2H 2:7) and Nalbandian (H2H 1:5). Federer rewrote the script because he realized that men’s tennis, under the pressure of prolonging rallies, to please TV audiences and on-court spectators, was transforming itself into a primarily baseline game in which those who hit the ball very well off both sides would have more arguments to defeat players who relied more on attacking the net. The Australian Open ’04 catapulted Federer to a new level; the trophy raised in Melbourne was the Holy Grail – Federer became convinced that thinking of himself as another Edberg/Becker was like running into a brick wall. Nonetheless, being inspired by them was priceless; the new Federer simply found the great balance between his defensive and offensive attitude. He could modify his game depending on the situation, attacking the net freely without an obvious pattern. I remember his matches from the mid-00s when he was almost invincible: he could play a few games in a row without being interested in hitting a single volley, and then, all of a sudden, he could apply a few serve-and-volley actions behind the second serve or propose chip-and-charge with his specific backhand slice dropping in the service box (a drop shot in its longer version). Without this adjustment, it is hard to imagine that Federer would have conquered Paris, which once happened (2009), or he would have been able to win five successive times in New York City (2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008). Federer’s new face was brutal for two players in particular: Hewitt and Roddick. It was rather sad watching how these two young, very gifted men were helpless facing a more versatile version of Federer, especially as he was giving them a taste of their own medicine. Against Hewitt, Federer could be glued to the baseline, exchanging shots of different spins, simply showing the Australian that Federer’s baseline game was unpredictable and his footwork better – and that was enough, adding a much better serve, to defeat him fifteen times in a row (!). Against Roddick, Federer was serving better than against anyone else because of the specific rhythm of their matches – when your opponent holds easily, you have more energy to serve faster, and that’s what Federer was consistently implementing. He knew how to read Roddick’s serve, and the rock-solid backhand block allowed him to put the ball back onto Roddick’s side more often than other players could; with this methodical approach Federer knew that he should break A-Rod at least once each set – if not, no problem at all, one mini-break in the tie-break should be enough to take the set anyway. Federer defeated the American eleven times in a row (6-0 in tie-breaks in those matches, even though Roddick was usually playing them with authority). Federer created a huge gap between himself and all the most talented players born in the years 1980-82; only Safin
seemed to be a challenging opponent, but once he won his second major title (Australian Open ’05; epic semifinal over Federer) he couldn’t find the required motivation anymore. Already when Federer had won five or six majors, people started to foresee twenty for him, which finally came true, but it’s scary to think how many of the biggest titles Federer could have collected if the two arch-rivals hadn’t stood in his way: Nadal and Đoković. The Spaniard manifested his big hunger for glory in the first meeting against Federer; it happened at Key Biscayne ’04. The Swiss opened the year with a 23-1 record, had won three titles, and then Nadal stunned him 6-3, 6-3… Federer hadn’t lost a match of this type for 1.5 years, when he had been defeated by another left-hander with heavy top-spins, Franco Squillari, 2-6, 3-6 in Sydney. The first few matches didn’t indicate that Đoković would be a serious threat to Federer’s records. The Swiss won their first four matches, dropping two sets in the process, but his victory wasn’t threatened in any of those matches. Montreal ’07 changed everything in their rivalry; it’s not only that Đoković defeated Federer in the final – he did it in dramatic circumstances, 7-6, 2-6, 7-6 (saving a triple set point on return at 5:6 in the opener). That match set the tone for the rest of their rivalry. The Serb got the edge in tighter moments; actually, it’s ridiculous how many times he defeated Federer when things were balanced for both of them at the end of their matches. Đoković has won all their three matches when a deciding third-set tie-break was required, and all their four five-setters (three of them when Federer was holding match points – US Open 2010 and 2011 as well as Wimbledon 2019, twice on serve, which is absolutely mind-blowing). Actually, the entire 2010s decade was an unprecedented rivalry in tennis history between three main protagonists: Federer, Nadal and Đoković. At the Head-to-Head level, Federer lost both: 16-24 to Nadal (winning seven of the last eight, though, including a memorable Wimbledon ’19 semifinal) and 23-27 to Đoković. Given the historic perspective, it’s a blow for Federer that he lost to the Serb in regard to “Masters” triumphs, six to seven titles. When Federer triumphed in the event
for the eight best players in 2011 for the sixth time (overcoming the five of Lendl and Sampras), many would expect it to remain untouched; Đoković had won only one at the time. Yet the Serb began his mad chase in 2012, and ultimately triumphed there on seven occasions, the last time in 2023. Thanks to his amazing form in the first years of the 20s decade, Đoković, in his early 30s, overcame Federer in the number of weeks spent at the top of the tennis pyramid (428 vs 310). Regarding the most objective numbers (Grand Slam titles), there is no doubt that Federer is third behind Nadal and Đoković. In my opinion it is valid to call Federer the greatest grass-court player of the Open Era; at least in this department it’s tough to argue that Đoković’s successes are more impressive, especially when pondering their game styles. I think Federer can be fulfilled with his astonishing career also from the national perspective. Just like Nadal and Đoković, Federer led his country to Davis Cup victory (2014), and like the Spaniard and the Serb, the Swiss got the gold medal at the Olympics – admittedly only in doubles, but his silver in singles is also a reason to be proud, because he fought for it after the longest three-set match in history, which very likely will not be broken since sets with a two-game advantage disappeared from official tournaments regardless of “best of three” or “best of five” formats.
Career record: 1251–275 [ 367 events ]
Career titles: 103
Highest ranking: 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open
(champion 2003; ’06-07, 10, 17-18; runner-up ’09; semifinal ’05, 08, 11-14, 20)
Roland Garros
(champion 2009; runner-up 2006-08 & 11; semifinal ’05 & 19; quarterfinal ’01, 10, 13, 15)
Wimbledon
(champion 2003-07, 09, 12, 17; runner-up ’08, 14-15 & 19; semifinal 16; quarterfinal 01, 10-11, 18 & 21)
US Open
(champion 2004-08; runner-up ’09, 15; semifinal ’10-11, 14; quarterfinal ’12, 17 & 19)
Olympic gold medallist in doubles (2008), silver in singles (2012)
Masters champion 2003-04, 06-07 and 10-11
Davis Cup champion 2014
Hopman Cup champion 2001, 2018 and 2019
Year-end ranking 1997-2021: 700 – 302 – 64 – 29 – 12 – 6 – 2 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 2 – 1 – 2 – 3 – 2 – 6 – 2 – 3 – 16 – 2 – 3 – 3 – 5 – 16
Born: August 12, 1971 in Washington, D.C.
Height: 1.84 m
Plays: Right-handed
Descendant of Greeks, Πέτρος Σάμπρας was an extraordinary tennis player, a great athlete, and the most dominant figure of the 1990s. At the time, many tennis experts considered him the greatest player in history. His parents, Γεωργία Βρουστουρης (Georgia) and Σωτήριος (Sam), were children of Greek immigrants (his mother was born in Greece and emigrated in the 1960s). Sampras grew up in Rancho Palos Verdes, California, and never visited the country of his ancestors during his career, though on the eve of the 21st century he said he hoped to finish his career at the Athens 2004 Olympics.
He began playing tennis at the age of three, hitting balls against a wall. On his 14th birthday, his father gave him two videotapes of Rod Laver and Ken Rosewall as a gift. “I watched these tapes several times a day. Their style of play, especially Laver’s, fascinated me. I wanted to play like him!” Influenced by Laver, Sampras switched from a two-handed to a one-handed backhand and adopted an attacking, net-rushing style.
His first notable success came in 1988, reaching the semi-finals in Schenectady. A year later, he reached the doubles final in Forest Hills with Jim Courier and won with him his first title in Rome – results that earned them a place in the 1989 Masters, remarkable & forgotten fact given that both would two years later become elite singles players. That same ’89 year he claimed his first big singles win, defeating defending champion Mats Wilander at the US Open in five sets, surviving nerves after a double fault on his first match point.
In February 1990, he won his maiden singles title in Philadelphia, defeating Andrés Gómez in the final. “I don’t know why there is so much hype around Agassi, Chang and Courier. Sampras is better than them!” Gómez said afterward. Six months later, Sampras stunned the tennis world at the US Open. Seeded 12th, he beat future No. 1 Thomas Muster, which was already a moderate surprise, then two great champions in succession – Ivan Lendl in the quarterfinal and John McEnroe in the semifinal – before defeating Andre Agassi in the final. At 19 years and 28 days, he became the youngest men’s champion in tournament history, a record that still stands.
That December he dominated the inaugural Grand Slam Cup in München, earning $2 million in one week – an unprecedented sum at the time. The year 1991 brought disappointments, including losses in the Cincinnati and Paris Mercedes Super 9 finals to Guy Forget, as well as a defeat to the Frenchman in the Davis Cup final, but the season was saved with Sampras’ first of his five “Masters” titles.
In 1992, Sampras claimed his first clay-court title in Kitzbühel, though clay would remain his weakest surface – he never won Roland Garros despite a few deep runs (1996 his only semifinal in Paris) and a title in Rome (1994). On April 12, 1993, he became the 11th player to reach No. 1 in the ATP rankings after winning Tokyo. That June he fulfilled expectations by winning Wimbledon for the first time. “In my mind this is the biggest one in the world, and now that I’ve done it I feel as happy as I’ve ever felt,” he said. He confirmed his dominance in tennis with the US Open title. He won 85 matches that year – the most since Lendl’s 107 in 1982 – and became the first player to serve over 1,000 aces in a season (1,011).
In 1994, Sampras won 10 of 12 finals and became the first player since Lendl (1987) to finish a second straight year at No. 1. That year he won his first Australian Open, being two points from defeat against 19-year-old Yevgeny Kafelnikov in the second round (5:4*, 30-all in the fifth). At Wimbledon he defended his title in impressive style. After two years of utter domination, Sampras’ third year on the top was threatened by two players: the arc rival Agassi and Muster, who was doing unbelievable things on clay. The Sampras-Agassi ’95 rivalry it’s a highlight of the 90s, they both were at peaks of their physical abilities co-creating four-set finals in Australia and America as far as majors are concerned, and three Mercedes Super 9 finals (Indian Wells, Key Biscayne and Montreal). Even though Agassi won that year more matches between them (3 out of 5) Sampras was more consistent and his third straight Wimbledon title gave him enough points to conclude third straight season as the ranking’s leader – it made an impact on Agassi, who realised that he lost the “who’s the best player of the 90s” rivalry, and decreased his motivation at the end of 1996.
May 1996 brought a personal blow: Sampras’ coach and friend Tim Gullikson died of brain cancer. Sampras joined the fight against cancer, pledging $100 per ace to charity. He also supported the Vitas Gerulaitis Youth Foundation and the Arthur Ashe AIDS foundation. On court, he finally lost at Wimbledon to one of his toughest opponents Richard Krajicek (in the quarterfinal), but triumphed at the US Open for the fourth time which helped him to achieve something McEnroe and Lendl couldn’t in the 80s, namely finish as the world best player the fourth straight season. He concluded it with an amazing five-set victory in Frankfurt against Boris Becker – that final I’d choose as the defining match of the 90s. Winning in 1997 his second Aussie Open and Wimbledon again for a fourth time, Sampras strengthened his position as the greatest grass/hard-court player of the Open Era, but he badly wanted to prove his versatility conquering Paris. From 1993 to 1997, many believed he could achieve a “Grand Slam” by adding Roland Garros to his collection – he reached the quarterfinals in Paris three straight years always losing the more natural clay-courters, and had proven in the Davis Cup ’95 final he would win the biggest title on clay, but Magnus Norman ended his hopes in the third round of 1997 when the tournament didn’t have a clear favorite. It was the last reasonable chance for Sampras to make his legacy grander.
By 1998, Sampras had matched Jimmy Connors’ record of five consecutive year-end No. 1 finishes, then broke it with a sixth. That year he also matched Björn Borg with five Wimbledon titles overcoming Goran Ivanišević in the final for the second time; in 1999, he broke the record with a sixth, and in 2000 he won Wimbledon for the seventh time, setting a new all-time Grand Slam record of 13 major titles, surpassing Roy Emerson’s 12 counting the pre-Open era. After defeating Patrick Rafter in the final, he tearfully looked up at his parents, who had not attended one of his matches since his junior days. People expected him to capture ten Wimbledon titles at least. Sampras admittedly was unable to finish a seventh consecutive season as the best player, but compensated it outplaying Agassi in the ‘Masters’ final.
The following years brought mixed results. In 2001, for the first time in 11 years, he failed to win a title, and his movement was visibly slower than in his prime, making his backhand a liability – especially on clay. At the US Open he was destroyed in successive finals (2000 and 2001) by “new balls” – players ten years his junior. Another player of that 
generation who spoiled Sampras’ dream of Wimbledon’s fifth title in a row it was Roger Federer, who struggled past Sampras in their only – legendary meeting – which in hindsight meant passing the torch. His Roland Garros record from 1998-2002 was just 3-5, with two five-set escapes against much inferior opponents.
Then came his remarkable 2002 US Open run. Despite poor form entering the tournament, Sampras played inspired tennis, defeating Agassi in the final for a record-tying fifth US Open crown. “To beat a rival like Andre, in a storybook ending, it might be nice to stop,” he said. “But I still love to compete. I’ll see in a couple of months where my heart is and my mind. My head is spinning.”
Sampras never played another match. In August 2003, at a special ceremony before the US Open, he officially announced his retirement, ending his career with one of the most fitting finales in tennis history. At the time it seemed his record of major titles would never be beaten, strangely enough twenty years later as many as three players would win 20 Slam titles, but when Sampras finished his career the serve was much more dominant factor which – I’d argue – made winning the biggest titles more challenging, another thing it’s the fact that at the end of Sampras’ career the number of seeded players was extended from 16 to 32 which would allow the best players to avoid really tough opponents before the fourth round.
Sampras’ career can be viewed in three distinct phases (he played his whole career using a Wilson “St. Vincent” model):
– late 1980s blossoming: as a teenager he often resembled an American version of Stefan Edberg, the only great player whom Sampras never defeated in the 90s at “best of five” (three attempts, most important at the US Open ’92) – attacking the net behind each serve and even on the return with a cheap-and-charge mentality, usually not showing any emotions;
– the 1990s prime: he turned into the decade’s dominant force, building his game around two weapons, namely the serve and the forehand. He still came in after almost every first serve, but his volleys were deliberately simple rather than artistic-precise, first volleys designed to open the court, backed by the best overhead of his era (he introduced slam-dunk smashes) and superb movement that let him defend patiently with the backhand when required; especially in the second half of the decade he became more animated in his reactions;
– early 2000s twilight: as age and slower footwork set in and the hairline receded, his backhand turned into a clear target. Years of constant net rushing, however, left him with the most polished volleys of his career. Never a fan of long rallies even at his peak, he now avoided them altogether, taking greater risks on second serves and relying on relentless service holds to shorten points believing in his superiority while entering the tie-breaks (62% – one of the best ratios in history).
Career record: 762–222 [ 265 events ]
Career titles: 64
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (champion 1994 & 97; runner-up 1995; semifinal 1993 & 00; quarterfinal 1998)
Roland Garros (semifinal 1996; quarterfinal 1992-94)
Wimbledon (champion 1993-95, 1997-00; semifinal 1992; quarterfinal 1996)
US Open (champion 1990, 1993, 1995-96, 2002; runner-up 1992, 2000-01; semifinal 1998; quarterfinal 1991)
Masters champion 1991, 94, 96-97 & 99
Davis Cup champion 1992 (played doubles in the final) & 1995
Grand Slam Cup champion 1990 & 97
World Team Cup 1993 champion
Year-end ranking 1988-2002: 97 – 81 – 5 – 6 – 3 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 – 3 – 3 – 10 – 13
Born: August 14, 1984 in Tibro [Västra Götaland]
Height: 1.93 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Söderling is the last Swedish player who truly mattered. Beginning with the great Björn Borg in the 70s, Sweden had consistently produced players capable of reaching the quarterfinals and semifinals of the biggest events; it was clear that Söderling (28 years younger than Borg) would be the last big Swedish name for a long, unspecified period. Soderling was rather awkward – his game at the net could be described as “wooden,” his baseline play one-dimensional, yet his basic 
strokes contained sheer power. Among players born in the 80s, Fernando González seemed to possess the fastest forehand, Marat Safin the fastest backhand, but Söderling could deliver the fastest shots off both wings combined. His serve was also extremely powerful, with a first serve averaging over 200 kph and a second serve above 170 kph.
With these tools, Söderling was capable of doing serious damage, but his early years on the tour revealed mental instability, as he was more prone to losing dramatic matches than winning them. He felt most comfortable indoors, where the acoustics amplified the sound of his shots — perhaps boosting his confidence and intimidating opponents. Unfortunately for him, no major is played indoors (his first nine finals all came under a roof), so for several years he remained among those with obvious potential who failed to achieve major breakthroughs.
Everything changed in 2009 when Magnus Norman became his coach. Norman hadn’t possessed Söderling’s power, but had reached No. 2 in the world thanks to tactical intelligence and total dedication to refining every detail of his game. He convinced Soderling to work on his weaknesses – particularly his net play – and to prepare varied tactical plans for different opponents. Under Norman’s guidance, Söderling enjoyed the best two non-calendar years of his career (2009-11), reaching back-to-back French Open finals, almost winning the Masters semifinal in between, triumphing at Paris-Bercy. Paradoxically, in both years of his Roland Garros successes he defeated the eventual champion of the previous edition but not in the final itself: in 2009 he stunned Rafael Nadal in the fourth round (handing Nadal his first-ever loss at Roland Garros) before losing the final to Roger Federer, and in 2010 he ended Federer’s 12-0 dominance over him in the quarterfinals, only to lose the final to Nadal.
At the end of 2010, Soderling split with Norman but continued to build on his recent success. He started 2011 brilliantly, winning three titles in his first four events. Although he didn’t return to the Paris final, his quarterfinal loss to Nadal there was no disgrace. After a surprising defeat to Bernard Tomic at Wimbledon, Söderling played the event of his life on home soil in Båstad, which would prove to be the last tournament of his career. He swept through four matches, demolishing Top 10 players Tomáš Berdych (in 71 minutes) and David Ferrer (in 67 minutes). “It has been a dream week,” said Soderling after the final. “I feel really good. Now finally, my body feels good. I struggled a little bit with some injuries the past couple of months.”
It was the 176th and final main-level event of Soderling’s career, and no one knew at the time – the last one. At 27, he appeared to be in peak condition, having claimed four titles that season, but soon after Båstad he began to suffer from mononucleosis, forcing him to withdraw from the US Open ’11 at the last minute. For the next four years he clung to hopes of returning, but on December 23, 2015, he officially announced his retirement from professional tennis.
Currently, the two highest-ranked Swedish players are brothers Elias and Mikael Ymer – sons of Ethiopian parents whom Söderling had helped during their teenage years. Mikael, the younger by two years, defeated the teenage Carlos Alcaraz twice in 2022, and very likely it will remain as the most interesting Swedish result considering the decade of the 20s…
Career record: 310–170 [ 176 events ]
Career titles: 10
Highest ranking: No. 4
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (runner-up 2009-10)
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 2010)
US Open (quarterfinal 2009-10)
World Team Cup 2008 champion
Born: November 27, 1978 in Karviná [Moravskoslezský kraj in Czechoslovakia]
Height: 1.85 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
“How do you feel after winning the title at the end of your career?” Fred Stolle, one of the best players in the mid 60s, asked 30-year-old Štěpánek courtside when the Czech triumphed in Brisbane 2009. “It’s not the end, it’s the beginning,” replied the fresh champion. It was amusing, not true, but also not far from what Stolle might have sarcastically expressed in response: “Maybe the beginning of the end.” In January 2009 Štěpánek was more or less in the middle of his career, and the best was still to come. That same 
year he helped Czechia (the Czech Republic name still in official usage then) advance to the Davis Cup final in Barcelona, where he lost what was at the time the most important – and brutal – match of his career to David Ferrer, despite sensationally destroying the Spaniard in the first two sets (6-1, 6-2). Something like that was almost unimaginable. Štěpánek was two points away from winning the second rubber as he led 5:4 (30-all) in the decider. Spain eventually won the tie 5-0, and Štěpánek could have realistically thought that a match of such magnitude would be impossible to repeat in his career.
But his Davis Cup destiny turned out to be far brighter than anyone could have expected. He became one of the few players in the Open Era to win two Davis Cup clinchers, doing so in consecutive seasons: first in Praha 2012, where he survived a complex four-setter against Nicolás Almagro, and then the following year in Belgrade, where he faced novice Dušan Lajović and defeated him with ease – arguably the most one-sided Davis Cup clincher of the first two decades of the 21st century.
I remember seeing Štěpánek for the first time at the US Open 2002 doubles semifinal. Partnering Jiří Novák, he advanced to the final and was kissing his partner in celebration. It seemed clear that Štěpánek had an inclination toward atypical behaviour, but at 24 he was still largely unknown in singles and could have been perceived as another doubles specialist. That year he played plenty of singles too, entering eleven qualifying events and advancing ten times to the main draw, with two semifinals on clay. Petr Korda, the former no. 2, was his adviser at the time. Štěpánek used to play his forehand shots with the eastern grip, the technique already out-dated in the first decade of the new millennium, yet in his case profitable even in the next decade.
The 2003 Australian Open was a turning point: in the second round he defeated a declining yet still dangerous Gustavo Kuerten in five sets before being overwhelmed on Centre Court by Lleyton Hewitt. Even so, he felt he belonged to a broader elite in singles, not just doubles. For the next 14 years he regularly played majors – 55 appearances in all – yet reached just one quarterfinal. Given his two Masters 1000 finals, he might have expected at least one Slam semifinal, but it never happened; at Wimbledon he held a match point against Jonas Björkman to win 3-1 in sets, but couldn’t convert.
Štěpánek was an all-court player with a slightly better backhand than forehand. His forehand was somewhat old-fashioned, but flat and precise, he knew hot to use it for well-masked dropshots. Flexible and tactically astute, he could suddenly switch from defence to offence, with great touch and variety that made him enjoyable to watch on all surfaces – even clay, despite a lack of heavy top-spin. One of his two Masters 1000 finals came on clay (Hamburg 2006) in the unusual circumstances when Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer withdrew after their epic Rome final the previous week. Two years before he had played a Masters 1K final in Paris. The Czech shot-maker seized his opportunity in advancing to the most important finals of his career, eliminating slightly inferior players in the semi-finals in Paris and Hamburg. As someone with two finals at this level, he was destined to get at least one ATP 500 title – he won two (Rotterdam, Washington).
Trivia: his Davis Cup match against Ivo Karlović in 2009 (semifinal) could have been the first all-tie-break five-setter if the two-game advantage in the decider had not still been required. Štěpánek survived after six hours, saving match points in total, at 4:5 and 11:12.
Career record: 384–302 [ 289 events ]
Career titles: 5
Highest ranking: No. 8
Best GS result:
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 2006)
Davis Cup champion 2011-12
Born: November 7, 1976 in Melbourne [Victoria]
Height: 1.94 m
Plays: Right-handed
Μάρκος Φιλιππούσης – the son of a Greek father and an Italian mother, enjoyed the best year of his career in 1999. He managed to achieve something only Michael Stich (1993) had almost done before — he played a key role in securing three prestigious team titles for Australia: Hopman Cup, World Team Cup, and Davis Cup, winning three singles matches in each competition. That same year he captured the biggest of his eleven titles, triumphing at Indian Wells (his second and last final at this level comes from Paris 2000). However, a huge disappointment came at the Australian Open, where he lost in the fourth round and never reached the 
quarterfinal stage in his home tournament. In 1999 he was perceived, perhaps for the only time in his career, as one of the favorites, given that in his previous major, the US Open ’98, he had reached the final.
Philippoussis’ second major final came in a rather unexpected period, when he was struggling with injuries and had dropped in the ATP rankings to No. 48. As in his previous best Slam run, he survived an intense quarterfinal: at the US Open ’98 against Thomas Johansson, and at Wimbledon ’03 against Alexander Popp.
The tall Australian first made an impact in 1995 as a 19-year-old. In just his fifth ATP event, Philippoussis [272] reached the final in Scottsdale as a qualifier, defeating four much higher-ranked opponents before playing a competitive match in the final against former No. 1 Jim Courier. He then received a wild card for Key Biscayne and reached the third round. Those two results, along with a final in Bologna, catapulted him from outside the Top 300 into the Top 100 within a few months.
His serve was tremendous – never before had a teenager served with such intensity. In Kuala Lumpur later that year he set a record for the number of aces in a three-set match (unbeaten for twenty years), hitting 44 against Byron Black. He took serving to a new level, surpassing even Goran Ivanišević, who at that time had not yet reached 40 aces in five-set matches. Brad Gilbert, then coach of Andre Agassi, predicted that the future would belong to Philippoussis. His serve was phenomenal, his volleys technically sound, and his ground-strokes powerful yet inconsistent. It seemed like the full package.
At the 1996 Australian Open, aged 20, Philippoussis produced one of the best matches of his career in a night session, backing up Gilbert’s claims. In a battle of Greek descendants, he stunned the main favorite Pete Sampras in straight sets, only to follow it with a disastrous 2-6, 2-6, 2-6 loss to Mark Woodforde. Later that year he captured his maiden title in quite peculiar circumstances winning all matches in deciding sets (Toulouse); expectations were high, yet in 1997 he didn’t finish the season even in the Top 10 while the Top 5 seemed within his reach as he had won titles on three different surfaces that year (hard, clay, grass). He was somehow unable to showcase his full potential in the biggest tournaments. Enough said that prior the US Open ’98 semifinal, he hadn’t played a semifinal even at the Mercedes Super 9 level.
Without two Davis Cup-clinching victories (1999 and 2003), Philippoussis could be seen as an underachiever, as he had the tools to win at least one major. He was a novelty in the second half of the 90s with his uncompromising style and willingness to take risks like no one before him – often serving second serves around 200 kph regardless of the score or opponent, always believing that his destiny depended solely on his own game. “When I was on the court, I played. When I trained, I trained hard. But as soon as that thing was over, I switched off and enjoyed my life,” Philippoussis reflected years after retirement. Known for spending lavishly on fashionable cars and enjoying nightlife, he later admitted: “The greats have almost no life, and that’s the reality of it. They’re obsessed – you need to be obsessed with everything about what you’re doing.” Philippoussis’ second best major performance after the Aussie Open ’96 upset against Sampras, it’s arguably his five-set victory over Agassi at Wimbledon ’03. It’s rather weird that a man who was able to beat the two best players of the 90s at majors, never played at the season-ending championships (he was an alternate in Houston ’03).
Career record: 313–204 [ 204 events ]
Career titles: 11
Highest ranking: No. 8
Best GS results:
Wimbledon (runner-up 2003; quarterfinal 1998-2000)
US Open (runner-up 1998)
Davis Cup champion 1999 & 2003 (won clinchers on both occasions)
Born: August 13, 1976 in Guayaquil [Guayas]
Height: 1.87 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
There is one particular thing about Lapentti – his extraordinary ability to close out matches once he had created a match point. I am not aware of any other player at the main-tour level with such a remarkable ratio of wins from match point down compared to losses after squandering one. His career record in these situations stands at 16-2 across fifteen years.
The first of those two defeats came at Key Biscayne 1998, where he lost to Slava Doseděl 6-3, 6-7, 4-6 despite holding six match points. Two months later in Prague, he lost to Doseděl again 6-3, 3-6, 2-6 after leading 3:1 in the second set. Later 
that year in Cincinnati, he was beaten by Scott Draper 4-6, 6-4, 5-7, having squandered one match point. Remarkably, from that point until the end of his career twelve years later, Lapentti won every match in which he reached match point – with one exception outside the main tour: the 2006 Montevideo Challenger, where Guillermo Cañas saved a match point and prevailed.
His resilience in seemingly hopeless situations bordered on the magical. There were occasions when defeat appeared inevitable, yet he found a way to win. Two examples stand out from 2003: in St. Pölten, he squandered a match point at 5:4 in the third set against Irakli Labadze, then trailed 2:6 in the deciding tie-break before surviving 5-7, 7-6, 7-6. Weeks later at Wimbledon, he let slip a double match point in the third set against Jamie Delgado, then saved one match point at 3:5 in the fifth set and three more as a receiver in the next game, eventually taking the decider 7-5.
Like Wayne Ferreira, Lapentti had won five-setters in all possible close-call situations from a break down: being just a game or two from a straight-sets defeat, to nearly losing in the fourth set, to being on the verge of defeat in the fifth – a feat not many players can boast over hundreds of professional matches.
This was not always the case early in his career, as shown by his 6-8 fifth-set Davis Cup losses to Daniel Nestor and Marcelo Ríos. But at the 1999 Australian Open he rewrote the pattern, defeating Karol Kučera 8-6 in the fifth set after intentionally dropping the fourth from 3:0 down. That victory took him to the only Grand Slam semifinal of his career, and from then on he won seven of his next ten matches when the deciding set reached 5-all.
He belongs to the select group of players who have won at least 30 five-setters. Yet it would be wrong to assume he almost always prevailed in close contests. Lapentti lost plenty of tight matches of all kinds – his “magic” seemed to work specifically once he had a match point in hand.
Lapentti was a smart, all-round player. He lacked a definitive finishing stroke on either wing, did not possess a huge serve or outstanding volleys, but every shot in his arsenal was solid and adaptable. His on-court intelligence allowed him to read the match as it unfolded and choose the right shots at the right moments. That tactical awareness, combined with a measure of luck, went a long way toward explaining his success in dramatic matches. In his best ’99 season he claimed two ATP shields (Indianapolis – his biggest title, and Lyon) being on verge to be beaten there. Between those two events he survived one of the longest no-tie-break 3rd set in history, overcoming Fernando Meligeni in München. No doubt that among players born in the 70s Todd Martin is the best without a big title, I’d indicate Lapentti as a second/third best (pondering between him and Nicolas Kiefer) given his potential overall. As opposed to Martin, Lapentti never played a Mercedes Super 9/Masters 1K final, but during his prime the draws weren’t favorable, and he was eliminated in the latter stages either by the greatest players of his time (Miami ’00, Indian Wells ’01) or by the best player on a specific surface (Rome ’01).
The nephew of 1990 Roland Garros champion Andrés Gómez, Lapentti was most comfortable on clay, though he never advanced beyond the fourth round in Paris – losing on that occasion to his friend and former junior doubles partner Gustavo Kuerten. In 1994, Lapentti defeated Kuerten in the Orange Bowl singles final, and together they reached the doubles final.
When Lapentti’s younger brother Giovanni Lapentti (b. 1983) arrived on the tour, Nicolás publicly described him as the more talented of the two. That prediction never materialised, as Giovanni failed to win a match at Grand Slam level and remained stuck on the Challenger circuit.
Trivia: Lapentti is one of just four players in the Open Era to win his first ATP-level title in his debut event — Bogotá 1995 (others: Yahiya Doumbia, José Francisco Altur, Santiago Ventura) capitalizing on the extreme conditions at 2,640 m above sea level, having trained at similar altitude in his native Quito.
Career record: 317–287 [ 287 events ]
Career titles: 5
Highest ranking: No. 6
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 1999)
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 2002)
Born: December 17, 1977 in Aix-en-Provence [Alpes-Côte d’Azur]
Height: 1.72 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
He is a good example of how a bit of luck and a few good events, even without spectacular successes, can shift a player from one level to another. In autumn 1997, the almost 20-year-old Clément, one of many young French “Challenger” players, lost in qualifying at Toulouse but entered the main draw as a lucky loser and beat Magnus Larsson [25] in the second round. That result helped him build self-confidence. In two more main-level appearances (Vienna and Lyon), Clément made shocking upsets, eliminating Top 10 players Sergi Bruguera and Patrick Rafter in the first round. From a 
player on the verge of the Top 200, he suddenly became a Top 100 contender. The Paris-Bercy organisers rewarded him with a Centre Court slot, and he seized the opportunity, defeating another much higher-ranked opponent, Marc Rosset, in a match that gave him his first real exposure to a worldwide audience. It was already clear that the short Frenchman – blessed with a very good serve for his height and aggressive baseline strokes – would be capable of doing some damage in the future.
Clément proved it three years later in Melbourne. In retrospect, his run to the 2001 Australian Open final is even more admirable: apart from beating Greg Rusedski, Yevgeny Kafelnikov, and his friend Sébastien Grosjean in a dramatic semifinal (saving match points in the third set), he had also defeated in straight sets two teenagers who would later become top players – Tommy Robredo and… Roger Federer. After that match Clément led Federer 3:1 in their Head-to-Head, though it would end 3-8.
For a player with only four small ATP titles (Lyon 2000 arguably his finest) in eleven finals, he still delivered strong results at the biggest events. In addition to his sensational run to the Australian Open final, he reached the Cincinnati semifinal and two other major quarterfinals. The second of these came at the twilight of his career, when he narrowly lost to Rainer Schüttler in a five-set marathon.
Throughout his career, Clément wore medically prescribed sunglasses. When France claimed the 2001 Davis Cup title, he was not on the team for the final but had been instrumental earlier in the year in ties against Belgium, Switzerland, and the Netherlands. He nearly ousted Andre Agassi in the second round of Roland Garros 1999 before the American went on to win the title. One year later, he stunned Agassi – then the defending champion – in the second round of the US Open. Clément never faced Pete Sampras, but his wins over Agassi, a young Federer, and Rafael Nadal (Marseille 2006) remain points of pride.
Despite his modest height, Clément could hold serve for long stretches, which helped him in two epic five-setters. The first he won, 15-13 in the fifth against Rosset in Davis Cup; the second he lost, 14-16 in the fifth to Fabrice Santoro. The latter, completed at Roland Garros 2004, lasted 6 hours 35 minutes and was the longest match in the Open Era until the Isner–Mahut extraordinary epic six years later. “What do I get? A medal? I’m not interested,” said a clearly distraught Clément afterwards. “Anyway, it lasted over two days, so it doesn’t count.” It counted officially…
Career record: 316–327 [ 319 events ]
Career titles: 4
Highest ranking: No. 10
Best GS results:
Australian Open (runner-up 2001)
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 2008)
US Open (quarterfinal 2000)
Davis Cup champion 2001 (didn’t play in the final)
Born: December 9, 1978 in Temperley [Buenos Aires]
Height: 1.76 m
Plays: Right-handed
Gaudio’s unexpected triumph at Roland Garros 2004 gave me thrills – perhaps the most intense emotions I’ve ever felt watching tennis – especially in the fifth set of his epic drama against Guillermo Coria. Even though Gaudio entered the event ranked No. 44 and had never played a major quarterfinal (nor would he ever again), I had listed him among a few main contenders for the title on my temporary website. When he converted match point against Coria, it felt like an 
astonishing personal prediction coming true.
My belief in him stemmed from his previous battles in Paris against the best clay-courters of the early 2000s: in 2002 (fourth round) he lost to Juan Carlos Ferrero 7-6, 1-6, 7-6, 2-6, 4-6; the following year (third round) to Gustavo Kuerten 6-7, 5-7, 7-5, 3-6. Both matches were tight and could have gone the other way had Gaudio been mentally more stable – the clay-court tennis displayed there was of the highest quality, his offensive one-handed backhand second to none. My reasoning was: <<if he handles pressure in the decisive moments better, he may win the whole thing.>>
The 2004 French Open context was unusual – both Ferrero and Kuerten were far from their title-winning form, and a teenage Rafael Nadal withdrew (it’s debatable how far he could have gone in 2004, but worth noting that Gaudio comfortably led Nadal 3-0 in their H2H before losing at Monte Carlo 2005; Nadal would win their last three encounters, including the Stuttgart final). The draw was wide open, with Coria as the clear favorite — and he fully lived up to it for most of the fortnight.
In the memorable final, Coria led 6-0, 6-3, 4:3* when something extraordinary happened — the crowd began cheering for Gaudio with a “Mexican wave,” shifting the atmosphere entirely. Coria began to cramp, and suddenly Gaudio, who had been trying merely to avoid humiliation, looked almost paralyzed in front of a wide-open door. According to my stats, in his 119 main-level events before Roland Garros 2004, he had won just once when facing a match point. Against Coria, he saved two match points (both on return!) and ultimately survived the 3-hour 31-minute battle, sealing victory with his trademark cross-court backhand.
Before Paris 2004, Gaudio’s five-set record was a miserable 1-9 (the most painful loss coming in the Davis Cup 2002 semifinal against Russia). During those two magical weeks in Paris, he won three five-setters — including the first two rounds against strong opponents.
Gaudio is often labeled a one-Slam wonder, yet in the aftermath of that triumph he established himself as a Top 10 player for two years, reaching two big semifinals — once at Masters ’05 saving match points against Fernando González before being demolished by Roger Federer, the second big semifinal comes from Monte Carlo ’06. He finally began doing what many had expected from him years earlier: winning tight matches more consistently, which allowed him to reach clay-court finals regularly (in 2005 he won four successive finals, arguably the most satisfactory at Viña del Mar where he defeated three seeded players in a row.
In total, Gaudio played sixteen ATP finals in his career (all on clay), with a record of 8-8… 2:4 before Paris 2004 and 6:4 afterwards, coming close to a seventh title in Båstad. Given his three Masters 1K quarterfinals outside clay, it’s rather surprising that he didn’t reach a hardcourt final, with his style he wasn’t a threat on grass and carpet at all. His form declined sharply at 27, which was common among several Argentine players of his era. At 29, he played his last full season, losing even in Challengers to much weaker opponents.
Though he faded from the scene, Gaudio’s sensational triumph in Paris 21 years ago made him “immortal” – he remains the only Grand Slam champion never to reach a quarterfinal at any other major before or after his victory.
Career record: 270–196 [ 194 events ]
Career titles: 8
Highest ranking: No. 5
Best GS result:
Roland Garros (champion 2004)
Born: May 29, 1965 in Madrid
Height: 1.80 m
Plays: Right-handed
It’s difficult to explain why the older brother Emilio achieved much more than the younger Javier Sánchez (b. 1968 in Pamplona, the best junior of 1986). Unlike the McEnroe brothers, who had completely different personalities and game styles – and a larger age gap (John was seven years older than Patrick), placing them in different tennis eras (John was a transitional player between wooden and steel/aluminium racquets) – the Sanchez brothers played at the same time, facing the same opponents. Their 
game styles were almost identical and suited to what, in the 1980s, could be described as the “Spanish school” – one-handed backhands, plenty of slices, clay as their natural habitat, and solid overall technique that allowed them to apply serve-and-volley tactics when needed.
Emilio had something indefinable – something that helped him beat players who were, on paper, superior. He defeated Ivan Lendl, Boris Becker, and Stefan Edberg – the best players during his prime – while Javier lost to all of them in every encounter. A curiosity about Javier: he lost to Edberg twice with the same scoreline (6-2, 6-7, 2-6); first in Stuttgart ’92, where he blew two match points, and a year later in Monte Carlo, being two points from victory again.
Javier may have envied his older brother – he copied him in everything – yet it wasn’t enough to match his ranking or win a title of the same caliber (Emilio’s biggest title was Rome ’91). At least when it came to Grand Slams, they were on equal footing – two quarterfinals each. Surprisingly, both of Javier’s Slam quarterfinals came in New York (1991 and 1996), rather than Paris, which seemed more likely given his style. Emilio, in both of his major quarterfinals (1988), was stopped by Mats Wilander – then the best player in the world – after almost identical matches: 7-6, 6-7, 3-6, 4-6 in Paris, and in New York City 6-3, 6-7, 0-6, 4-6, blowing set points in both matches to lead two sets to love. Interestingly, these matches followed a pattern they’d already established at Wimbledon in 1987, when Wilander prevailed 2-6, 7-6, 6-3, 7-5.
Emilio first showed he was a serious force on clay courts at Rome 1986, reaching the final and playing a competitive match against the world’s best, Lendl. Two years later, he proved himself dangerous on hard courts too, reaching the final at Indian Wells. The years 1990-91 were the peak of his career. He began that stretch by winning the Hopman Cup for Spain alongside his sister Arantxa Sanchez, including a dramatic win over John McEnroe (who have beaten Emilio in two tight five-setters in Slam fourth rounds).
Before claiming the biggest title of his career in Rome, Emilio had already captured one of the most important titles for any Spanish player – Barcelona – defeating compatriot Sergi Bruguera. Had Sanchez and Bruguera both played their best tennis at the same time, they could have led Spain to a Davis Cup final. That never happened, though, as Bruguera’s rise coincided with Sanchez’s decline. Still, they did help Spain win the World Team Cup in 1992, with Sanchez winning all four of his singles matches – three of them from the brink of defeat, and all against top opponents.
Later that year, Sanchez and Bruguera met in the Palermo final, marking the beginning of the end for Sanchez, who from then on started losing more regularly. One more noteworthy result followed: a semifinal in Hamburg, where he nearly beat local favorite Michael Stich.
Sanchez remains one of the most successful doubles players ever to reach the Top 10 in singles. He won 50 doubles titles (including three Slams), the vast majority of them with Sergio Casal. The duo also won a silver medal at the Seoul Olympics. Many years after retiring from professional tennis, he returned to the circuit as Spain’s Davis Cup captain and led the team to victory in 2008, capturing the prestigious trophy despite the absence of Rafael Nadal in the final.
Career record: 431–291 [ 287 events ]
Career titles: 15
Highest ranking: No. 7
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (quarterfinal 1988)
US Open (quarterfinal 1988)
World Team Cup 1992 champion
Hopman Cup 1990 champion
Born: May 30, 1976 in Filipstad [Värmland]
Height: 1.88 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Norman, born into a family of professional athletes, was seen as a potential successor to Sweden’s greatest players. Already as a 16-year-old – before even entering junior tournaments – he received a wild card for Stockholm qualifying and, despite being unranked, defeated three players, including Peter Lundgren, a former world no. 25 who was eleven years older. Although Norman was thrashed in the first round by Derrick Rostagno, the ATP debut was exceptionally promising.
The next two years were tough: Norman competed in Satellites and Challengers, with almost three years separating his 
first two ATP appearances. Even though he didn’t establish himself as another Björn Borg, Mats Wilander, Stefan Edberg, or even Thomas Enqvist, he gained recognition in the late 1990s as a dangerous floater. His breakthrough came at Roland Garros 1997, where he advanced to the quarterfinal having ousted Pete Sampras in the third round – still a huge result at the time, even if Sampras was already past his clay peak. In the French Open – Wimbledon stretch of 1997, Norman showed great mental toughness, winning epic five-setters against the two fastest left-handed servers on tour: 9-7 in the 5th against Greg Rusedski in Paris, and 14-12 in the 5th versus Goran Ivanišević at Wimbledon (saving four mini–match points at 11-all). In that latter match, Norman began experiencing heart problems, and in December 1997 he underwent a five-hour surgery to correct an irregular heart rate.
The surgery delayed his rise, and he slumped during 1998 – though he did contribute significantly to Sweden’s Davis Cup title. In the first round he won a 4th rubber against Karol Kučera in five sets when Sweden was a few games from being eliminated, and opened the final against Italy with a thrilling win over Andrea Gaudenzi in extremely lucky & dramatic circumstances. That Davis Cup success launched the most successful stretch of Norman’s career.
In 1999, he won five ATP titles (Orlando, Stuttgart, Umag, Long Island, Shanghai), that year as many as the two greatest players of the 90s, though underwhelming results at the majors kept him out of the Top 10. The following year, 2000, was the peak of his career. With Sampras and Andre Agassi nearing the end of their rivalry, Norman briefly emerged as a contender for the world no. 1 ranking, having defeated young players who seemed to be potential rulers of the 2000s, in Melbourne & Paris. He didn’t have any weapon that would allow him to win matches, his movement was rather clumsy, but he had a strong serve and solid flat shots from both wings, using them wisely, moreover he was super clutch at tight situations during his two excellent seasons. He admitted that since his junior days he had kept a journal in which he wrote down which specific shots work against particular players… In the spring of that most fruitful year, he reached the final stages of three biggest clay-court tournaments, facing Gustavo Kuerten in all three: he beat Kuerten in the Roman final, lost in the Hamburg quarterfinals, and then played an unforgettable final in Paris.
That Roland Garros match is arguably the most dramatic four-set Slam final ever. Norman won the third set and saved 10 match points in the fourth before finally losing it. The quality of play and emotional intensity were extraordinary. During the trophy ceremony, Norman visibly blinked uncontrollably, suggesting he was still overwhelmed by nerves. It’s possible that this match – more than any other – determined that Kuerten, not Norman, ended the year ranked no. 1.
From there, Norman’s career entered a slow decline. Though still dangerous in 2001-02, he never recaptured the aura he had in 1999-00, not being able to get another title. In 2003, his career collapsed. Battling knee and hip issues that had required surgery, still worried about his heart, he lost ten consecutive matches (excluding qualifying), including a 1-6, 3-6 defeat to Greek journeyman Konstantinos Economidis. His four-hour first-round loss at the 2003 US Open to Jean-René Lisnard was particularly painful: after escaping a straight-set loss and holding a match point at *5:3 in the 5th, he lost the set 6-7. Prior to that blow, for a long time he was always winning while serving for the match. Norman entered just two more events after that disaster before announcing his premature retirement.
After hanging up his racquet, Norman built a new career as one of the most respected coaches on tour. He helped Robin Söderling reach two French Open finals and later guided Stan Wawrinka from a Top 20 player without any significant titles into a multiple Grand Slam champion.
Career record: 244–177 [ 174 events ]
Career titles: 12
Highest ranking: No. 2
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2000)
Roland Garros (runner-up 2000; quarterfinal 1997)
Davis Cup 1998 champion
