A Champion's Mind - Pete Sampras

Over the years, I had to answer the call against a staggering array of rivals—dangerous players who
were capable of giving me fits and worse. Some of their names might surprise you. And some of them may
not have been given their due, or their full measure of credit, elsewhere in this book. There were also
some impact players in my era who just didn’t figure heavily into my career high—or low—points. I’m
including them as well, to try to give you an all-around sense of how I felt about most of the important
players of my time. They’re listed alphabetically by name, and I’m adding my head-to-head record against
each man, along with my comments.
BORIS BECKER (12–7) . . . Like Goran Ivanisevic, Boris could go toe-to-toe with me on grass or fast
surfaces because of his big serve. But overall, I felt I did everything just a smidgen better than Boris did.
It was that simple. I didn’t have any secret or special tactics. I knew we would go out and trade
thunderbolts, and the player who was serving better, feeling the ball better, and playing with more
confidence probably would win.
Two of Boris’s biggest assets were his personality and his ego. He was a hugely charismatic guy, and
he also walked with a swagger, especially at Wimbledon. He was such an icon in his own time that
journeymen were intimidated by his very presence. But there was no intimidation and certainly no
animosity or mind games when we played. We respected each other, and that showed in the spirit and tone
of our matches. Our rivalry was always about good, power-based attacking tennis—and little else.
SERGI BRUGUERA (2–3) . . . He’s one of the few guys I played more than once or twice who finished with
a positive head-to-head against me. He once beat me on hard courts, I once beat him on clay. People
tended to deride and dismiss Bruguera as a clay-court grinder, but he was better than that. He posed
special problems that lifted him a healthy notch above the other baseliners. Sergi played from way back,
which made him vulnerable to attack, but the guy moved like a deer. He was one of the best movers ever,
and he could get to anything and take a good whack at it with a heavy, topspin forehand.
MICHAEL CHANG (12–8) . . . When we were juniors, Michael was the gold standard, and he really
punished me when I abandoned the two-handed backhand. So I developed a mental block against Michael
that lasted for quite a while. But also, right through my early years as a pro, I could be a little inconsistent,
and that was the one unforgivable sin when you played Michael.
In those early years, Michael often made me hit that one extra ball that teased out an error, but over
time, I became more consistent and I developed more power. Michael then became a kind of litmus test
for me. If I was playing well, I could control and overpower him.
I beat Michael in one match that was absolutely huge—for him. That was the 1996 U.S. Open final. He
was in the running for the number one ranking and it was his best chance to win a second major, thereby
shedding the one-slam wonder label that some people applied to him. That label was unfair, of course,
because of Michael’s great consistency. He was always in the mix at the top of the game, where a true
one-slam wonder tends to pop up out of nowhere—and go back there after making his stunning statement.
JIM COURIER (16–4) . . . Jim was an interesting case because there were definitely strategic, tactical things