Born: January 13, 1982 in Rufino (Santa Fe)
Height: 1.75 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
A shooting star… As a junior, Coria achieved a ranking of No. 2 in singles (reaching the final of the Orange Bowl ’98 at the age of 16) and No. 5 in doubles. Andre Agassi and Marcelo Ríos were among his idols at the time, and he had the opportunity to play against both of them. Therefore, when he transitioned to the professional level, there were high expectations for him. In the first few years on the tour he was often compared to Carlos Moyá and even earned the nickname “mini Moya” due to alleged facial similarities, game-style and loose clothing. There were assumptions that he would follow in Moyá’s footsteps and become a Roland Garros champion.
In his first ATP event in Mallorca of 2000, Coria faced Moyá, a native Mallorcan. He concluded that season with four consecutive titles at the Challenger level in South America, leading to a change in his nickname to “El Mago” (The Magician). It became evident to everyone that Coria possessed exceptional talent; his agility and finesse on the court were truly remarkable.
His early career was marked by rapid success and media attention, including winning his first ATP title in only his sixth main-level event, reaching the semifinals of Monte Carlo in tenth (where he lost to Gustavo Kuerten – a few weeks later they met in the French Open first round; it was a brutal draw for Coria, he’d been expected to reach the quarterfinal despite being unseeded which is a rarity). However, his journey was not without setbacks. In April 2001, Coria tested positive for nandrolone after a three-hour lost match in Barcelona to Michel Kratochvil. Initially banned from tennis for two years and fined, Coria claimed that the banned substance was unintentionally ingested through a multivitamin supplement from a New Jersey company.
In December 2001, despite his appeals, the ATP refused to fully acquit Coria but reduced his ban to seven months, allowing him to resume his career in March 2002. However, this hiatus resulted in a significant drop in his world ranking from No. 25 to No. 198. The year 2002 served as a rebuilding period for Coria, during which he mixed ATP events with Challengers and finished ranked No. 45, i.a. playing the longest “best of three” final in the 00s (Costa do Sauipe).
The years 2003-2005 were defining for Coria as he established himself as a dominant force on clay courts, earning him the moniker “prince of clay” (fitting because in the most successful years he played with the Prince racquet). After defeating his childhood hero, he suffered a surprising loss in the Roland Garros ’03 semifinal to Martin Verkerk (where Coria faced the threat of being defaulted after the first set for throwing his racquet towards a ball kid). Shortly afterwards the young Argentine displayed an astonishing level of determination & consistency in the summer of ’03; he dominated the clay-court circuit, capturing three titles in three consecutive weeks: Stuttgart, Kitzbühel and Sopot, without even being forced to play a tie-break! This remarkable streak bolstered his self-confidence, which soon translated to success on other surfaces as well. Coria’s newfound assurance propelled him to the quarterfinals of the US Open and even saw him clinch a title on carpet (!) under rather fortunate circumstances; in the second round of Basel, he narrowly defeated Michaël Llodra, and then his friend David Nalbandian withdrew from the final, paving the way for Coria’s unexpected triumph. In 2004, after suffering a blister on his right hand during a match against Roger Federer in Hamburg, his 31-match winning streak on clay came to an end. Despite being a favorite to win the French Open, he ultimately lost the final to fellow Argentine Gaston Gaudio in a surreal match.
The disappointment from the French Open final took a toll on Coria mentally, affecting his performance for the remainder of the season. Although he showed flashes of brilliance in 2005, he failed to maintain his status as the top player on clay, losing two big finals (Monte Carlo, Rome) to the rising star, embodied in Rafael Nadal. His unexpected defeat by Nikolay Davydenko in the fourth round of the French Open further dented his confidence, and he struggled to regain his form, nevertheless he managed to add the last title (Umag) to his résumé, and third year running – wearing a super tight T-shirt – took part in the season-ending ‘Masters’ event where he quickly lost all his three matches like a year before.
The year 2006 marked a dramatic downturn in career of the 24-year-old Argentine. From being hailed as a clay-court genius, potential multiple French Open champion, he turbulently descended into mediocrity on his beloved surface. His decline was highlighted by losses to much lower-ranked players, such as Alessio di Mauro in Acapulco, where he committed an unusually high number of 16 double faults in two short sets! Strange incidents, such as his extraordinary comeback against Paul-Henri Mathieu or a sudden withdrawal against Michał Przysiężny in Sopot (by the way, it is the only case when I saw a player celebrating a victory after opponent’s retirement), signalled that something bad happened to him physically & mentally… the unexpected end of his career appeared on the horizon.
Following a Bangkok defeat in 2009 (Challenger), he never appeared again as a professional player, it was his only tournament that year, following just two in 2007 and eleven in 2008. Federico Coria, Guillermo’s brother who is ten years his junior, has endeavoured to follow in his brother’s footsteps, but his results have yet to come close to matching Guillermo’s achievements.
Career record: 218–114 [ 117 events ]
Career titles: 9
Highest ranking: No. 3
Best GS results:
Roland Garros (runner-up 04; semifinal 2003)
US Open (quarterfinal 2003, 05)
Born: May 18, 1986 in Johannesburg (Gauteng)
Height: 2.03 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
When I first witnessed Anderson play in the third round of Miami ’08, I never would have anticipated that he would become a two-time Grand Slam finalist. Watching his match against Igor Andreev, I was intrigued by the player who had ousted Novak Đoković in the previous round. However, my initial impression was somewhat disappointing; despite his towering two-meter height, Anderson’s serve seemed surprisingly average. In a gruelling three-setter that Andreev ultimately won 6-4, 6-7, 6-4, Anderson managed to fire just two aces, leaving me puzzled. Little did I know, ten years later, that the South African giant would go on to consistently deliver +/- thirty aces in many matches.
Anderson’s astonishing progress over a decade was truly commendable. He stands out as one of the few players who maximized his career potential to the fullest. Demonstrating improvement in every aspect of his game, Anderson’s evolution was nothing short of remarkable. While he was typically reserved in displaying emotions on the court, it appears he recognized the value in doing so to enhance his chances of winning crucial matches. During the US Open ’17, his exceptional display of emotion, marked by fist-pumps after every point won, seemed to propel him through challenging encounters in the quarterfinal and semifinal, where he faced opponents in evenly matched battles. This positive, affirmative attitude likely played a significant role in his victories over Sam Querrey and Pablo Carreño, ultimately leading him to his first major final at the age of 31, without any significant titles to his name. Anderson showcased his immense potential in New York two years prior when he had defeated Andy Murray after enduring one of the longest four-set matches in tournament history.
However, Anderson’s ascent didn’t stop there. The following season, during the most prestigious tournament, he achieved something unprecedented. He triumphed in two epic deciding fifth sets in back-to-back matches, a feat no one had accomplished before him and may not be replicated in the future. First, he saved a match point against Roger Federer before prevailing 13-11 in the deciding set, followed by an extraordinary 6-hour 36-minute battle against John Isner, which he clinched 26-24 in the decider. [Anderson’s marathon match against Isner at Wimbledon persuaded officials to revise the rules regarding the deciding set. As a result, the following year saw the introduction of a peculiar tie-break format at 12-all.] This historic victory propelled him to the second position in the history of South African tennis, behind only Johan Kriek (two-time Australian Open champion) and ahead of Kevin Curren and Wayne Ferreira. The comparison between two Kevins remains a topic of debate actually… Anderson was dispatched in both of his major finals (US Open & Wimbledon), but in both occasions he had nothing to be ashamed of as he faced the greatest players.
As a curious piece of trivia, Anderson remarkably lost all twelve matches he played against Tomáš Berdych, with only three of those matches reaching deciding sets (one of them – Paris ’14 – I statistically covered). Anderson kicked off the year 2019 in stellar fashion, securing victory in Pune. However, his momentum was abruptly halted by elbow & knee injuries that kept him sidelined for six months. Upon his return to competition, he found himself ranked outside the Top 100 and struggled to recapture his previous form. After enduring two seasons that fell far below expectations, the 36-year-old Anderson made the decision to retire in May ’22. However, one year later, he made a brief return, participating in two events – Newport and Washington – in what could be described as a ‘cameo’ appearance.
Career record: 356-255 [ 258 events ]
Career titles: 7
Highest ranking: No. 5
Best GS results:
Wimbledon (runner-up 2018)
US Open (runner-up 2017; quarterfinal 2015)
Born: May 19, 1964 in Bojnice (Západoslovenský kraj in Czechoslovakia)
Height: 1.90 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
When contemplating who is the best Open Era player to never win a Grand Slam title, my thoughts gravitate toward Mečíř, “The Big Cat”. A straightforward approach to answering this question would be to compare non-active players who reached the most major finals without clinching a victory. This group includes two-time major finalists – in chronological order – such as Steve Denton, Kevin Curren, Mečíř, Cédric Pioline, Todd Martin, Àlex Corretja, Robin Söderling and Kevin Anderson. Even though Corretja won distinctively more matches and titles than Mečíř (438 vs 262 and 17 vs 11 respectively), furthermore the Spaniard was also ranked higher (two vs four), I lean towards Mečíř due to his all-court versatility as well as achieving a lot in a short span.
Corretja contested both his major finals on clay, whereas Mečíř reached his on hard courts, albeit at different venues (US Open ’86 and Australian Open ’89; both finals quickly lost to his compatriot Ivan Lendl – succumbed to him at his best French Open appearance too). The (Czecho)Slovak reached semifinals at all majors, a feat Corretja did not accomplish outside of France. Comparing their biggest titles, Corretja triumphed at the “Masters” ’98 in Hanover, while ten years earlier, Mečíř secured a gold medal at the Olympics in Seoul. Evaluating these achievements presents a challenge, as Corretja faced the best players worldwide in his victory, while Seoul ’88 did not attract all the top talent as the inaugural official Olympic event. However, Mečíř had to navigate through six ‘best of five’ matches to secure his victory.
Another aspect to consider is their other significant titles. While there wasn’t an equivalent of ‘Masters 1K’ in the 1980s, both players claimed titles of comparable prestige. Corretja won these tournaments twice as ‘Mercedes Super 9’ (Rome and Indian Wells), as did Mečíř (Key Biscayne and Indian Wells). Notably, in the years 1987-89, Key Biscayne was dubbed the “fifth Grand Slam” due to its format requiring the champion to win seven ‘best of five’ matches. Consequently, Mečíř’s victory in Florida ’87 may hold more weight than Stefan Edberg‘s Australian Open title of the same year (he defeated Mečíř i.a.), where seeded players received a first-round bye… Reflecting on the hierarchy of prestigious events in singles, it roughly follows this order (without nuanced differences):
– Grand Slams
– Olympics
– “Masters” for 8 best players of the season
– Masters 1K (former Mercedes Super 9)
– WCT Finals/Grand Slam Cup
– Other main-level events, graded based on prize money primarily
Before the introduction of the Grand Slam Cup in Munich in 1990, the World Championship Tennis in Dallas during the 1980s served a similar function, gathering top players in an indoor event featuring ‘best of five’ format rounds. Although I hold Munich’s event in higher regard, Corretja failed to reach even a semifinal there, while Mečíř triumphed in Dallas ’87, defeating Mats Wilander, Andrés Gómez, and John McEnroe – two of whom were top-tier players in men’s tennis at the time.
Competitiveness against the best players in the most significant tournaments is another crucial factor. While Corretja’s achievement in Hanover ’98 is commendable, he did not defeat Pete Sampras or Andre Agassi at Grand Slam events (he had defeated them in Hanover), despite performing admirably against them in New York. In contrast, Mečíř defeated all the top players in the world of the late 1980s in ‘best of five’ matches. Mečíř boasted a 20-3 record for a while against Swedish players, who were a dominant force in men’s tennis at the time. Especially his 7-4 record against Wilander is particularly intriguing, considering Wilander’s reputation as the best brain of the 1980s.
I consider Wilander the most astute tactician of the 80s; however, he couldn’t find a solution when facing the unorthodox Mečíř. The most bitter defeat among their encounters occurred at Wimbledon ’88 – in hindsight; had Wilander claimed that title, he would have enjoyed the best Open Era season! He was outplayed 3-6, 1-6, 3-6 by Mečíř in the quarterfinals (their last meeting, incidentally); in the semifinal “Big Cat” was relatively close to beat Edberg in straights too. Mečíř proved to be a formidable opponent for all top players; against serve-and-volleyers, he could retrieve more effectively than others, while against Wilander (or other guys with a defensive attitude), he could outmanoeuvre the patient Swede on the baseline with sharper angles of his flat, deceptive strokes, and unexpected trips to the net. Technically, he was unparalleled – despite his stature, he was not a big server; his upper body was unusually elongated, allowing him to move like a player 10 cm shorter. Although primarily a baseliner, his volley technique was flawless, enabling him to seamlessly transition to serve-and-volley when necessary. He possessed a knack for dismantling his opponents, forcing them to alter or adapt their tactics to stand a chance against him. Even after many years, this is how Wilander remembers Mečíř: “Best anticipation of any player in our generation for sure. The most flexible… and then crazy good hands. He is the best player in the world to not have won a Slam, for sure. No question in my mind. He should have won three or four.” I wrote more about their rivalry analyzing their first meeting as well as matches at the US Open ’86 (fourth round) and ’87 (quarterfinal).
Mečíř’s career came to an abrupt end at the young age of 26 due to a deteriorating back injury. His final significant match took place just a few months earlier, where he faced Boris Becker in the fourth round of the Australian Open. What he could have won as a player in the early 90s, he “won” as a coach in the late 90s, helping fellow Slovak Karol Kučera to reach the Top 10. To me, Mečíř ranks as the fifth-best player of the 1980s among those who were born in the 1960s, trailing only behind the four multiple Grand Slam champions: Lendl, Becker, Edberg and Wilander.
He captured Masters ’87 in doubles (London), alongside Tomáš Šmíd. What’s insane about that triumph, the Czechoslovaks defeated the Swedish pair Edberg/Järryd twice in five-setters, first at the group stage, then in the semifinal – it was possible only in 1987 due to the draw after the ’round robin’.
Career record: 262–122 [ 117 events ]
Career titles: 11
Highest ranking: No. 4
Best GS results:
Australian Open (runner-up 1989; quarterfinal 1987)
Roland Garros (semifinal 1987)
Wimbledon (semifinal 1988; quarterfinal 1986)
US Open (runner-up 1986; quarterfinal 1987)
Olympic gold medal (Seoul 1988)
World Team Cup champion 1987
Hopman Cup champion 1989
Born: April 2, 1982 in Xàbia (Valencia)
Height: 1.75 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Making a parallel to the 90s, he was akin to Michael Chang among players born in the 1980s; given his height, sturdy legs, and tremendous will to fight. Ferrer once stated “I’m the weakest player in the Top 100”; albeit he exaggerated, as he made this claim while already being a Top 30 player, having defeated i.a. Andre Agassi. There may be a convincing argument to his statement; namely, he believed he lacked a serious weapon. Nevertheless since he appeared on the tour, he was known for his fast movement and persistence during physically demanding rallies (reached his first ATP final already in his second event at this level, Umag ’02).
He was the type of player you had to stay focused at all time to beat him; a young Andy Murray experienced it in Toronto ’06, narrowly avoiding disaster by saving a set point to survive 6-2, 7-6 earlier leading 5:0 in the 2nd set! Tennis isn’t just about the serve speed or generating enormous topspin; it’s also about handling various adverse circumstances like brutal weather, complex progress of a match, different styles of fellow contestants, challenges Ferrer embraced through hard work off the court and resilience. His technical limitations meant he struggled against a genius like Roger Federer, evidenced by their 17-0 head-to-head record (Masters ’07 it’s their most important match), with Ferrer never coming close to victory. However, against the other greatest players of the 21st Century, Ferrer engaged in balanced matches characterized by long rallies, earning respect all over the world for his dedication and fighting spirit. Ferrer not only defeated Rafael Nadal, Novak Đoković, and Murray, each of them several times, but also did so in the ‘best of five’ format. Nadal experienced this painfully when Ferrer crushed him 6-4, 6-2, 6-3 in the Aussie Open quarterfinal ’11, halting Nadal’s bid for a fourth consecutive major title. Though one could argue Nadal wasn’t at full fitness, Ferrer deserves credit for his composure which gave him the arguably most satisfactory victory. Nonetheless, over many years Nadal remained Ferrer’s toughest rival as far as clay courts are concerned. They faced each other in three significant finals on that surface, and Nadal always emerged victorious in straight sets, including the French Open ’13 final.
Defeating Nadal in a major match (US Open ’07) marked a turning point in Ferrer’s career. Following that victory, with improved volleys & serve, he climbed from the Top 20 to the Top 10, remaining there almost permanently until 2015, a remarkable feat considering his modest height. Ferrer’s successful career challenged the notion that a player of his stature couldn’t excel in the 2000s; he remained at the top even into the 2010s, forming a solid “second big 4” alongside Jo-Wilfried Tsonga (3-1 H2H; their most memorable meeting comes from the French Open ’13 semifinal), Juan Martín del Potro (H2H, 6-7), and Tomáš Berdych (H2H, 8-8), as indicated by their head-to-head records against the Big 4 at the time.
Was Ferrer the fifth-best player of his era, in the late 00s/early 10s? That’s up for debate. While his firepower may suggest otherwise comparing to the taller players mentioned above, he won one significant title (Berdych did the same) and contributed more than any of them to Davis Cup triumphs (thrice, once defeating Del Potro in a very important rubber of the ’11 final). While clay (outdoors) was Ferrer’s best surface, his most significant wins, two in the Davis Cup finals (both after dramatic five-setters) and in the ‘Masters 1K’ final, came indoors. His biggest title, obtained at Paris-Bercy ’12, isn’t well remembered, because he defeated in the last two matches, players ranked much lower [Michaël Llodra 121, Jerzy Janowicz 69] who achieved their best results at this level then. Ferrer’s big crisis finally came at thirty-six in 2018 when he had a poor 9-18 record on the tour. That year, he played his arguably two tightest five-setters: first, he scored a win over other veteran Philipp Kohlschreiber 7-6, 3-6, 7-6, 4-6, 7-5 in the Davis Cup, and then he lost in uncharacteristic manner to Jaume Munar 6-3, 6-3, 6-7, 6-7, 5-7 at Roland Garros. Munar (b. 1997) appeared poised to succeed Ferrer to some extent as a Spanish grinder among the NextGen players (the term introduced in the late 10s), but his performance in the following seasons has not lived up to expectations.
Admittedly, Ferrer had an awful record against Federer, but was tremendous against fellow Spaniard Nicolás Almagro. Ferrer defeated him 15 times in a row, even coming back from trailing two sets to love and 3:5 in the third set (Australian Open ’13). Their matches underscore an uncomfortable truth for many: in tennis, the will to win and ambition often outweigh innate talent when it comes to achieving success.
Career record: 734–377 [ 391 events ]
Career titles: 27
Highest ranking: No. 3
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2011 & 13; quarterfinal 2008, 12, 14 & 16)
Roland Garros (runner-up 2013; semifinal 2012; quarterfinal 2005, 2008, 2014-15)
Wimbledon (quarterfinal 2012-13)
US Open (semifinal 2007 & 12; quarterfinal 2013)
Davis Cup champion three times (2008-09, 2011)
Born: January 27, 1980 in Moscow (Moskva Oblast in Soviet Union)
Height: 1.95 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Марат Михайлович Сафин – a prototype of a new player, quite characteristic in the third decade of the 21st Century; he was the first very tall man who was effortlessly traversing the entire court. His remarkable Grand Slam debut occurred during his first significant victory, over Andre Agassi at the French Open ’98. A few months prior, he displayed his dominance over Jim Courier in the Davis Cup first round, leading 6-0, *4:1 (!) before succumbing in five sets. This match, played on a hardcourt with shorter rallies, didn’t fully showcase his exceptional defensive skills, but one thing was certain: the teenager had no fear facing the best players in the world.
Before Safin’s emergence, players over 190 cm were often associated with limited and awkward movement, they were reluctant to operate a few meters behind the baseline. Although Safin demonstrated competent volley skills, it was evident that he would predominantly construct points from the back of the court, relying mainly on his super solid backhand. At the time, serve-and-volley tennis wasn’t yet in decline, with Pete Sampras still reigning as the world’s best player and Patrick
Rafter, a natural serve-and-volleyer, clinching the US Open title twice.
Returning to Paris ’98; Safin, then a qualifier, stunned Agassi. In the second round, he triumphed in another five-setter against the defending champion Gustavo Kuerten, marking the rise of a new star. However, the subsequent 1.5 years brought disappointment, as Safin often exited tournaments early, earning a reputation for his racquet-smashing antics akin to Goran Ivanišević‘s struggles during that period. At the end of 1999 the tall Russian reminded how dangerous he would be advancing to the Paris-Bercy final.
An extraordinary turn of events occurred during the European clay-court swing of Spring 2000. Despite starting the ATP season with five consecutive defeats, Safin revitalized his game, claiming back-to-back titles in Barcelona and Mallorca. This kick-started the best seven months of his tennis career, during which the 20-year-old secured seven titles (including Toronto, the US Open and Paris-Bercy) and ascended to the top spot in the world rankings, narrowly losing it out to Kuerten in the ‘Masters’ 2000.
Remarkably, Safin’s subsequent career saw a stagnation in titles won compared to his stellar 2000 season. It’s challenging to pinpoint the exact reasons behind this, as factors off the court likely played an important role. Despite his undeniable talent, Safin couldn’t maintain his status as the dominant player born in the 1980s throughout the 2000s.
Safin’s first significant setback occurred in Barcelona in 2003, where he retired in the final due to a bothersome left wrist. This injury marked the beginning of a rough patch, culminating in a drop from world No. 8 to No. 86 by the end of the season. However, Safin astonished the tennis world by advancing to the final of the Australian Open in 2004, enduring multiple gruelling matches along the way. Being fatigued, he couldn’t overcome Roger Federer, who began his reign over men’s tennis on that historic day, a rule that would last over four years until Rafael Nadal dethroned him at Wimbledon ’08.
During the years 2004-05, Safin’s performance was unpredictable. He could lose to anyone one day, yet on another, he could defeat the best players in the world, as demonstrated in successive rounds of the Australian Open ’05. Safin began the event by dispatching an unknown Serbian youngster, Novak Đoković. In the semifinal, he survived a match point against Federer (their second amazing match within two months following ‘Masters’ semifinal in which they equalled a record for the longest tie-break), and in the final, facing the partisan Australian crowd, Safin defeated the local favorite, Lleyton Hewitt, in four sets. This victory marked Safin’s swan song in some sense. At 25 years old, he played a more mature style of tennis compared to his triumph at the US Open ’00. His serve and volleys were significantly improved, yet he wouldn’t win another title for the next five years playing just three finals.
The years 2006-08 were frustrating for Safin after he came back from a right knee injury; however, he helped Russia to clinch the Davis Cup for the second time, and at Wimbledon ’08, he reached the semifinal, once again defeating Đoković in straight sets, bringing their head-to-head to 2-0 in favor of Safin. The inability to secure a title for several years led to his decision to retire after the farewell ’09 season. For the ~30-year-old Safin, that season was less profitable (only one semifinal) than the 1996 farewell season for the 30-year-old Stefan Edberg.
Throughout his career, Safin’s matches could be likened to Russian roulette; luck often played a significant role in his dramatic encounters. He could win tight matches against elite players as often as he could lose them to inferior opponents, he never gave impression that it matters what is the scoreline or who is on the other side of the net. However, in 2009, he seemed to be losing everything narrowly. At Roland Garros, he even suffered a defeat to a seemingly casual player like Josselin Ouanna, whose main-level record was just 9-17. This loss was reminiscent of his Davis Cup defeat to Max Mirnyi more than five years earlier (first two sets lost in tie-breaks, the decider with a two-game advantage). Safin continued to struggle until his final tournament at Paris-Bercy. In the first round, he saved three match points with three aces to overcome the French journeyman Thierry Ascione. In the last match of his career, Safin faced Juan Martín del Potro. Perhaps it was Safin’s best match of the season, as Del Potro was fresh off a triumph at the US Open and mirrored Safin in terms of posture and abilities. The Argentine was perceived then as a potential leader of men’s tennis in the years to come, although that story would unfold differently…
Career record: 422–267 [ 260 events ]
Career titles: 15
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (champion 2005; runner-up 2002 & 04)
Roland Garros (semifinal 2002; quarterfinal 2000)
Wimbledon (semifinal 2008; quarterfinal 2001)
US Open (champion 2000; semifinal 2001)
Davis Cup champion 2002 (singles) & 2006 (singles & doubles)
Born: August 31, 1974 in Kiev (Kyiv Oblast in Soviet Union)
Height: 1.93 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Андрій Медведєв… His career progressed rapidly. Not being widely recognized on the junior scene before, representing the disintegrating Soviet Union, he won the junior French Open ’91 as a sixteen-year-old boy, not dropping a set, defeating his peer Thomas Enqvist in the final. A few months later, he was ready to compete at the main level, and reached the semifinals in Geneva, where he lost to Thomas Muster in two tie-breaks. As a Ukrainian, he began the ’92 season in April and achieved valuable results, winning three titles, including the Stuttgart Outdoor at the Rochusclub, with the strongest draw in the
tournament’s history. The teenager, ranked No. 100, needed nine consecutive wins (three in the qualifying rounds, began it losing a bagel set) to secure the trophy, defeating five seeded players who were showcasing different styles: Alexander Volkov, Emilio Sánchez, Stefan Edberg, Muster, and Wayne Ferreira in the final after five sets, squandering a match point at 5:3 in the third set. The following year he claimed another big clay-court title in Barcelona and reached the French Open semifinal. Pundits began discussing him as a potential world No. 1, and the “King of Clay” in the 90s.
However, a series of injuries thwarted his plans. I’d argue that Medvedev’s development stalled in July of ’94, so before he turned 20. It’s difficult to pinpoint what exactly happened; my loose theory is that he matured too quickly. By his early 20s, he began to experience hair loss, a phenomenon observed in other guys such as Andre Agassi, Nikolay Davydenko, and Ivan Ljubičić, players who enjoyed the peak of their careers approaching 30 though. During a particular week of 1999, Medvedev dropped to No. 100, yet paradoxically, being in big crisis he played the event of his life at Roland Garros. Neither Pete Sampras in round 2 nor Gustavo Kuerten in the last 8 managed to defeat him before the final, in which he led 6-1, 6-2, 4-all against Agassi when the American hit the line with his second serve on mini-match point. Perhaps only a few centimeters separated Medvedev from a straight-set victory. That moment completely changed the momentum, and the Ukrainian lost in five sets, marking the most important loss of his tennis life. Medvedev cried afterward, as did his namesake – a tennis melodrama created by two young, but already bald men. Medvedev stated that he regained the required self-confidence to play at the highest level, and another Grand Slam final would be a matter of time. However, one year later in Paris, he was completely outplayed in the fourth round by Magnus Norman, who was on his way to reach the only major final of his career.
Over the years, Medvedev excelled on clay courts, where he had more time to execute his flat groundstrokes (exquisite backhand down the line) and dropshots. However, he also had the skills to make an impact in faster conditions in spite of his rather wooden volley technique. He achieved good results on all surfaces; on grass at Wimbledon ’94, he played one of the tightest matches in the tournament’s history against the legend of those courts, Boris Becker. On carpet in Paris ’93, he somehow survived four consecutive matches against players better suited to indoor conditions (in the semifinal he had to withstand the adversity of the French crowd too), only to be defeated in the final by Goran Ivanišević.
His mother, Svetlana, was a coach in Kiev, where young Andrei and his sister Natalia Medvedeva began to play tennis (together they reached the Hopman Cup ’95 final lost to Germany; Medvedev faced his girlfriend Anke Huber on the other side of the net). Like his older sister, he retired prematurely, a few years before turning 30. However, before it happened, he managed to participate in more than 200 events, making it difficult to polemic that he hadn’t played enough to experience everything that tennis at the highest level has to offer. Trivia: in 1998, within a few months, he defeated Ivanišević twice, saving match points in deciding tie-break sets; first at Indian Wells (7-6, 2-6, 7-6), then in Monte Carlo (4-6, 6-2, 7-6). Despite “only” 11 titles, he collected four Masters 1K trophies, three of them in Hamburg (1994, 1995 and 1997) – he enjoyed the chilly weather there. The fourth one, chronologically first, comes from Monaco. In the most successful, first years on the tour, he was coached by Oleksandr Dolgopolov, the father of Alexandr Dolgopolov, the future No. 13. As a kid, Dolgopolov jr. was a frequent visitor of tournaments in which the best Ukrainian player to date participated.
Career record: 321–213 [ 221 events ]
Career titles: 11
Highest ranking: No. 4
Best GS results:
Australian Open (quarterfinal 1995)
Roland Garros (runner-up 1999; semifinal 1993; quarterfinal 1994)
US Open (quarterfinal 1993)
Born: May 29, 1978 in Marseille (Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur)
Height: 1.75 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
The best junior in singles & doubles of 1996; the first to achieve such a feat since 1987 (Jason Stoltenberg). Looking at Grosjean’s posture, it was quite obvious that he wouldn’t replicate his junior successes as a professional… A very characteristic player – always with the visor of his baseball caps worn backwards, and quite often the collar of his oversized polo shirt upwards.
Tennis-wise, Grosjean’s trademark was his forehand – with absolutely amazing acceleration. Despite his modest height, the serve wasn’t one of Grosjean’s weak strokes; actually, he was the first man below 180 cm to regularly deliver first serves over 200 kph, and the serve certainly helped him to get very good results on grass-courts (back-to-back Queens Club finals lost to Andy Roddick included).
He came to prominence at Key Biscayne ’99; en route to the final, he defeated, among others, Gustavo Kuerten and a fresh no. 1 in the world Carlos Moyá, withstanding three match points in the deciding tie-break (in the future the Spaniard would defeat Grosjean twice facing match points). He fell in love in Florida’s weather so much that in the aftermath of his great result he moved to live there, with his wife and daughter (Grosjean was the youngest father among players born in the 70s.)
Regarding his four major semifinals (two at Wimbledon) on three different surfaces (he was close to reach the fifth one), his only four titles are staggering. Only one point separated Grosjean from reaching a major final as he lost the Aussie Open semifinal to his best friend on the tour, Arnaud Clément. It was the first of Grosjean’s four defeats in Melbourne despite leading 2-0 in sets. A few months later he played another big semifinal, in front of the home crowd after a stunning victory over Andre Agassi, arguably Grosjean’s most memorable “best of five” performance.
The Frenchman managed to claim one significant title, and it happened in very specific circumstances. Every year, Paris-Bercy is a tournament in which there’s a group of players fighting for the last place(s) in the “Masters” (ATP World Tour Finals). The majority of them have only theoretical chances; in 2001, it was Grosjean’s case – he needed to win the trophy to qualify, which was highly unlikely when the event kicked off because he had won just one small ATP event before. The Frenchman took advantage of a very beneficial draw to advance to the semifinal, where he faced Tommy Haas, who seemed to be certain of his participation in the season-ending championship because all he needed was to avoid a situation where Grosjean was the champion. So basically, an in-form Haas had the destiny in his own hands… he lost, but Grosjean still needed one more victory. In the final, he defeated Yevgeny Kafelnikov in four sets, preventing the Russian from claiming at least one Masters 1K title. The end of the year was awesome; following Paris, Grosjean reached the Masters final, then was a member of the French team which won the Davis Cup (losing both final rubbers though). Nonetheless he contributed to the French success because in the first round against Belgium, he came back from a two-sets-to-love deficit against Olivier Rochus. Agassi said about the Frenchman when they both were still active: “A phenomenally talented player who is one of the best shot-makers in the game, one of the fastest in the game”. Remembering his career after the retirement, Grosjean stated: “I wish I could have won one of the Grand Slams. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage. I put a lot of effort into this each time, yet there are better players, people who play better than I do. So no, no regrets. Had people told me I would be in the top 5 at the beginning of my career I wouldn’t have believed it.” He’ll be remembered as someone who was able to play at the biggest events better than at smaller ones.
Career record: 341–247 [ 240 events ]
Career titles: 4
Highest ranking: No. 4
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2001; quarterfinal 2003-04, 06)
Roland Garros (semifinal 2001; quarterfinal ’02)
Wimbledon (semifinal 2003-04; quarterfinal ’05)
Davis Cup champion 2001
Masters runner-up 2001
Born: June 22, 1984 in Belgrade (Grad Beograd in Yugoslavia)
Height: 1.78 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
Jанко Типсаревић… one of three representatives of the golden generation in Serbian tennis – much less successful than Novak Đoković, but notably better than Viktor Troicki. When all three, along with Nenad Zimonjić in doubles, secured the Davis Cup for Serbia in 2010, Tipsarević contributed three points in the entire edition, including two crucial ones in the semifinals against higher-ranked Czech opponents. However, Troicki, who scored one point less, replaced him in the final rubber and clinched the decisive victory. At the time, Tipsarević held a 3-0 head-to-head record against Michaël Llodra,
making him a potential favorite in that rubber and a contender for the most important victory of his life. Nevertheless, the Davis Cup triumph, akin to Đoković’s experience, propelled him to another level: Đoković went on to become the best player in tennis history following the Belgrade success, while Tipsarević, previously known as a solid player participating in all major events and often seeded, achieved Top 10 status for two seasons, notably highlighted by thrilling US Open quarterfinal in 2012 (where he led 4:1, 30/0 in the fifth set against David Ferrer). It makes Tipsarević a bit special that with only four titles (Stuttgart on clay the biggest), and a lack of Masters 1K final (his best results comes from Madrid ’12 as he ousted his friend in the quarterfinal) or Grand Slam semifinal, he finished two consecutive years as No. 9, and played in “Masters” twice thanks to withdrawal of higher ranked players.
He was the first player in history with many visible tattoos (both arms and shoulder blades), one of them quoting the famous 19th-century Russian writer Fyodor Dostoevsky: «Красота спасёт мир» (Beauty will save the world), yet inked in Japanese kanji 美は世界を救う. Apart from the tattoos, also his plastic eyeglasses made him to look futuristically. Between 2014 and 2017, Tipsarević underwent seven surgeries: two on his left foot, two on his right knee, and two on each hamstring. Due to these injuries, he did not compete at all in 2014 and 2018. Known for his strong serve (given his modest height), with flat strokes off both wings, Tipsarević, when in form during matches in the mentioned period of his Top 10 status, was capable of hitting impressive winners with higher frequency than most.
Trivia: at the Australian Open ’11, he lost a five-setter to Fernando Verdasco despite leading two-sets-to-love and squandering three match points in the fourth set. A similar situation seemed to unfold at Roland Garros two years later when Verdasco came back from 0-2 again, saving two match points in 4th; however, “Tipsy” ultimately prevailed 8-6 in the decider.
“During my injuries there were definitely some serious mental problems I was dealing with, you can even use the term depression to describe how I felt. Dealing with all the ups and downs, doctors and opinions, you just become fucking insane from not knowing what to do.” he reflected on his career. Certainly he had a syndrome of hypochondria, often withdrawing from matches even when his physical condition appeared relatively fine; he holds a high ranking among players with the most retirements/walkovers – a total of 26 times.
Career record: 288-257 [ 245 events ]
Career titles: 4
Highest ranking: No. 8
Best GS results:
US Open (quarterfinal 2011-12)
Davis Cup champion 2010
World Team Cup champion 2009
Born: August 2, 1967 in Ann Arbor (Michigan)
Height: 1.83 m
Plays: Right-handed (two-handed backhand)
One of two prodigies of American tennis in the mid 80s along with three years older Jimmy Arias (they were the first famous pupils of Nick Bollettieri‘s academy in Bradenton). He became the youngest player to win a main-level title at the age of 16 years 2 months in Tel Aviv ’83 – an intriguing feat given his Jewish heritage. Krickstein also set a record for being the youngest player ever to break into the top 10, achieving this milestone at the age of exactly 17; a few months earlier he reached the final in Rome, where he faced Andrés Gómez and lost in four sets. Following this final, Gómez became Krickstein’s most frequent opponent, winning all eight of their subsequent meetings between 1984 and 1986.
The playing style of the Ecuadorian certainly didn’t complement Krickstein’s game, but the US teenager also faced a big challenge in other left-handed, and much older foe – Jimmy Connors. Connors, a legend of American tennis, handed
Krickstein a double bagel in their first encounter in 1984. This mental edge perhaps proved pivotal in their iconic five-set match at the US Open ’91, where the 38-year-old Connors emerged victorious despite Krickstein’s impressive five-set record. “After I won the first few of those, it really boosted my confidence in the other matches where I got down 0-2,” Krickstein said in 1995 about his unique ability to win matches from two-sets-to-love down (he did it ten times, a record for many years). “When I’m down like that, it seems like I start going for my shots more. Like I’ve got nothing to lose. The only time I really got tight in a fifth set was in that match at the U.S. Open against Connors.”
Krickstein’s style was that of a counter-puncher, capable of frustrating a great player like Stefan Edberg, with precise top-spin passing-shots and lobs off both wings. They played three dramatic five-setters against each other, and Krickstein always left the court as a victor, even when there was a big gap in their ranking positions, in Melbourne ’95. However, he found it challenging to overcome more powerful serve-and-volleyers like Boris Becker or Pete Sampras (lost twice to him blowing match points). As Connors and John McEnroe neared the end of their greatness, Krickstein became America’s brightest hope in the mid 80s. His ability to win five-set matches was commendable (28-9 record in the end), but the toll of prolonged matches on his body eventually halted his progress.
Injuries plagued him in the mid-80s, including knee and wrist problems, as well as a car accident in 1987 that left him with two broken ribs and sidelined for six months. “I had to start all over again psychologically,” Krickstein said about his attempt to recreate his successful career at the beginning of 1988. He came back with a modified service motion, a headband, and within two years, he returned to the Top 10, advancing to his first Grand Slam semifinal (the second would occur six years later), and making his only appearance at the ‘Masters’ tournament, albeit unsuccessfully. In the early 90s injuries haunted him again (the most serious was a broken bone in his left foot, August ’92).
The “Marathon Man” certainly could have achieved better results at majors as well as triumphing in a very prestigious event (let’s say ‘Mercedes Super 9’). His most significant title – from financial point of view – is not listed in his official résumé. It occurred in Antwerp ’91, a year before the event gained ATP status, when the prize money reached a historic high of $1,250,000. Krickstein was typically most effective on hardcourts, but in Autumn ’91, he showcased his best tennis on carpet. He first reached the Stockholm semifinals, defeating specialists of this surface, Michael Stich and Goran Ivanišević, before heading to Belgium, where he dominated four opponents. In the final, he was slated to face Becker, whom had never been defeated before, but unfortunately, the German withdrew due to flu. Krickstein received $250,000, his largest pay-check. A few months later, they crossed paths in Monte Carlo, where Krickstein defeated Becker (6-1, 6-4) for the only time in their eight encounters, and advanced to the final – his biggest one since Rome ’84. He had a similar experience with Ivan Lendl, managing just one victory over the Czech in their eight meetings (Tokyo ’90).
Krickstein’s energetic game-style, which demanded a lot of side running on the baseline because he was deprived of big strokes (he was an ultra defensive player among those 5’11” or taller), coupled with his penchant for long matches and numerous injuries, led to his premature retirement at the age of 28. He ended his career with 12 consecutive defeats, the last occurring at Key Biscayne ’96 against Wojtek Kowalski – the top Polish player of the late 80s/early 90s – who never broke into the Top 100… he was also near to finish his career when defeated Krickstein.
Career record: 395–256 [ 260 events ]
Career titles: 9
Highest ranking: No. 6
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 1995)
US Open (semifinal 1989; quarterfinal 1988 & 90)
Born: December 28, 1972 in Mount Isa (Queensland)
Height: 1.85 m
Plays: Right-handed
Marked by unexpected turns, Rafter’s career can be outlined in several distinctive phases:
1. Sudden Improvement: initially unremarkable in his early ATP years, he faced a lackluster start, losing his first seven main-level matches not having a Challenger title. But a defining moment emerged when, ranked at 139, he reached the Indianapolis semifinal, notably defeating Pete Sampras in an intense all tie-break match, surviving ten break points in the final set. Following this breakthrough, Rafter’s victories expanded to include top players of the 90s like Jim Courier, Michael Chang, Ivan Lendl, Thomas Muster, as well as Goran Ivanišević and Andre Agassi in exhibition events;
2. Disappointing Slump: in defiance of garnering huge popularity in Australia and signing lucrative contracts with “Reebok”, Rafter underwent a slump between 1995 and 1996, a period when his ascent to the Top 10 seemed imminent;
3. Resurgence: Rafter’s comeback began in the Autumn of ’96, winning the prestigious exhibition event in Hong Kong. Instead of vying for big events in Europe, he chose to conclude the season early, focusing on preparing for 1997. This strategic move paid off. Although he initially disappointed in local Aussie tournaments ranked No. 62, thrilling Davis Cup victories on grass against Cédric Pioline (3-2) and Martin Damm (3-1) marked a turning point for him as he helped Australia to reach the semifinal. Subsequent months showcased Rafter’s potential – five main-level finals, his first Grand Slam semifinal, culminating in an unexpected but brilliant Grand Slam victory at the US Open ’97 which led to finish the season as the second best player in the world;
4. Premature Retirement: despite being a paradigm of athleticism between 1997 and 1999, Rafter faced an untimely injury just before the US Open ’99, halting his momentum as a two-time defending champion. Subsequently, a bitter defeat to Pioline in which he squandered a 2-0 set lead (the reversal of their Davis Cup meeting) altered the trajectory of his career. Although he remained formidable on grass, reaching two Wimbledon finals (2000 and 2001 – when just two points separated him from the title), he decided to retire in 2001 at the age of 29, even though playing at a high level and ending the year ranked No. 8. Noteworthy, Rafter remains unique as a back-to-back US Open champion who lost the opening round in this event, prior and after his titles.
Quoting Rafter himself, “The toughest player I played against was definitely Sampras – he did everything I did, only better.” Reflecting on his career, he added, “I enjoyed playing Agassi the most – I thought we had a really good battle, I really enjoyed playing him.” This rivalry was particularly featured in the years 2000-2001 when they played three five-setters. Analyzing Rafter’s great results at the turn of the 90s and 00s, I drew conclusions that his physical preparation took a huge part in the golden years. As opposed to Stefan Edberg, a player with the closest game-style among the Open Era ranked leaders, Rafter didn’t possess such a fluid backhand. He couldn’t harm his opponents from the back of the court at all, but he was strong enough to keep the ball in play with quite high net clearance, waiting to implement the chip-and-charge strategy. Overall, I consider Tim Henman a technically better player than Rafter; yet, the Brit was unable to reach the Grand Slam final, while Rafter did it four times. One thing is to play at the same level for two-three hours a day; the other is to repeat it day by day for a week or two. Rafter was physically capable of doing this; Henman was not. The best exemplification of that is their fourth-round Aussie Open meeting in 2001. This match was very telling about how they both dealt with punishing conditions under the Melbourne Sun. In my perception, Rafter remains the most technically limited number 1 as far as the 90s are concerned (11 players reached the peak in that decade). I don’t consider him better than Jan Siemerink, the Dutch serve-and-volleyer who never reached the Top 10. Their Head-to-Head is quite telling: they met four times, with Siemerink leaving the court victorious on three occasions. Rafter’s great physical preparation, endurance, and wise tactics – aligned with his skills (patiently keeping the ball in play with his average forehand) – and the coincidental burnout of the 90s icons significantly contributed to his successes.
One particular thing about him, counterintuitive: he never won an indoor event, losing three finals (1997 – Philadelphia & Grand Slam Cup, 2000 – Lyon).
Career record: 358–191 [ 187 events ]
Career titles: 11
Highest ranking: No. 1
Best GS results:
Australian Open (semifinal 2001)
Roland Garros (semifinal 1997)
Wimbledon (runner-up 2000-01; semifinal 1999)
US Open (champion 1997-98)
Davis Cup champion 1999 (didn’t play in the final)
World Team Cup champion 1999 & 2001