A Champion's Mind - Pete Sampras

that enabled me to use the same basic motion to hit different kinds of serves. The kick serve was the only
one that was a little different, because you have to toss the ball farther back and to the left to get that big
kick, and it’s impossible to disguise. But even then, I didn’t telegraph my intention as much as most
players.
Larry Easley came into play when I abandoned my two-handed backhand and started serving and
volleying. Easley, who was terrific with the volley, helped me out. We had moments of serious doubt and
struggle during that transition, as I discuss later, and people at the Kramer Club thought I was crazy to
change my backhand—especially when my rival Michael Chang gained valuable ground on me as a result.
So much for short-term rewards.
I didn’t really have heroes, tennis or otherwise, when I was a kid. I didn’t have posters in my room, I
wasn’t a fanatic, obsessed with collecting autographs or anything like that, but tennis became a family
affair because of my involvement. We would watch all of the Grand Slam finals at home together. At one
point our television was out for a long time. I think it broke and my dad, who thought maybe we were
watching too much, decided to take his sweet old time fixing it. That year we went down to the Jack
Kramer Club at 6 A.M. to watch the Wimbledon final. I remember that vividly; it was like this big family
adventure.
Pete Fischer would sometimes come to the house after dinner with Del Little, who had a lot of old
tennis films. My father would set up the old 16 mm film projector, and Del would train it on a white wall
in our dining room. And then all of us—my dad, Pete, Del, Stella, and me—would sit there and watch
some final between guys like Rod Laver, Ken Rosewall, and Lew Hoad. Pete had this Rod Laver fixation,
and I remember watching Laver traipse around the court on the wall of our dining room. I was deeply
impressed by how smoothly Laver played—even on grainy, black-and-white 16 mm film.
In the morning, I would go to Vista Grande Elementary at eight and stay until noon. Then mom would
pick us all up and take us home. I would eat lunch, change, and head over to the Kramer Club at three,
where I would play a set or two with whoever was scheduled that day. There were enough fast-track kids
—there’s that California tennis advantage—that partners were always in abundance. I played with
Melissa Gurney, Joey Ladam, Pete Fitzpatrick, Tom Blackmore, Eric Amend, and others. Some of them,
like Gurney and Amend, went on to have pro careers. Others were merely outstanding juniors. Two days a
week there was tennis camp at the club, and some days—more often, as time went on—I had a lesson. My
day ended around 7 P.M., when I would have dinner back at home, do homework, go to sleep, and wake
up—only to do the whole thing again.
It was as regimented as it sounds—and it only became more so as I got older. But in order to be great at
something, it really needs to be the focus of your life. In that sense I don’t think you can have your cake
and eat it, too. You can’t have this great social life, a big academic load, and athletic ambitions, and be
able to focus on all of them. It takes a lot of time and work to get good at tennis, and those childhood years
are pivotal.
It wasn’t like I neglected school, either. I was a solid student, maybe in the A– or B+ category. I
worked pretty hard, was pretty organized, and was always in the advanced math section of class, as I was
very good with formulas. Although I wasn’t very verbal or expressive even then, I’ve always been a good
reader. I get bored quickly, though. I’ve only read a handful of books in my life. The one I really liked and
remember best is J. D. Salinger’s classic The Catcher in the Rye. I read Catcher during sophomore year
of high school and was very curious about what was going to happen to the protagonist, Holden Caulfield
—a kid about as different from me as you could get.
I had no “best friend” at school, or time for the kids I did call my buddies. What I had of a social life
was based at the Kramer Club. We tennis kids played together, went to some of the same tournaments