A Champion's Mind - Pete Sampras

the forehand down the T in the ad court. That left me looking at more second serves, which were then
easier to take with the forehand. The strategy also worked against Michael Chang big time, because
Michael’s serve was relatively weak and easy to attack with a big forehand return.
At the start of our relationship, Tim thought I was getting a little “handsy”—inclined to use my hands
loosely to compensate for a lack of technical discipline. In other words, I was a little lazy. Hands and
wrists play a role in almost all of your shots, but they shouldn’t be doing work intended for your arms,
feet, and torso when it comes to hitting a firm, penetrating shot. It’s especially tempting for players with
good touch to get handsy, and they always pay a price in the way of less weight and penetration on their
shots.
Tim firmed up my backhand volley and slice, or underspin, shot. He had me shorten up my backhand
slice motion to get a little more weight behind the shot even if it meant less spin—à la Ken Rosewall,
whose famous slice was surprisingly firm and heavy. Soon my backhand produced fewer “floaters.” It
penetrated better and went through the court more quickly. That made it harder to attack.
On the backhand volley, we focused on getting my entire body down lower to meet the ball. Dropping
the racket head always robs a shot of pace; it’s one of those things handsy people do. But the firmest
volleys are hit more decisively, with more weight behind the racket. That calls for a little positioning,
which is a little more work, but it paid off. These tunings all helped, and shortening up my backswings on
all my returns was of critical importance in my transformation into a good grass-court player.
But the biggest area of concern for Tim was my attitude on court. I tended to slump and slouch,
especially when things weren’t going my way. Anyone can play great tennis when he’s firing on all
cylinders. The challenge is to play well enough to win when you’re not at your best. There’s a sneering
inner judge in all of us, and a big part of being successful is tuning him out. And sometimes you have to
fight through the indifference and fatigue you sometimes feel, even at big events. Instead of listening to that
judge when he says you’re lousy, or should pack it in because you’re tired and there’s always next week
—that’s when you need to suck it up and act like a man—hang on, fight on, show the pride of a champion.
Tim understood that I wasn’t fully evolved as a competitor. I was a little soft. He kept telling me never
to worry about what happened on the last point, or the one before. He wanted me to intimidate opponents
with my bearing as well as my game, and it drove him nuts when I slouched. But I’m a lanky guy, with
pretty wide shoulders, so the slouch was deceptive. People described my “hangdog” look a million times
in print, but there was a big difference between “young hangdog” and “old hangdog.” Early in my career, I
slouched and wore a grim expression that advertised my discouragement. Later, the grim look denoted
absolute focus, and the slouch hinted of a gathering storm. Some people even suggested that I was a
sandbagger—looking one way but playing another.
As a blue-collar-type guy, Tim was all about the work, all about wringing every bit of potential out of
my game. That’s what he and his twin brother, Tom, had done to make it on the pro tour. Tim tried to turn
me into a rough-and-tumble, confident, take-it-as-it-comes guy. It was a tough task, and the results were
definitely mixed, because in the end I was built differently from Tim, and a leopard doesn’t change its
spots.
The Davis Cup debacle was still fresh in my mind in early 1992, and as an old-school, Davis Cup–loving
kind of guy, Tim put priority on helping wipe the bitter taste of that Lyon final out of my mouth. As it
turned out, the opportunity came up the following January, shortly after the Australian Open. (After an
exhausting 1991, I chose to work with Tim instead of making the trip to Melbourne.) In the first round of
the ’92 competition, the United States had been drawn to play Argentina, and we were the hosts. The
USTA decided to play in Hawaii on hard courts, knowing that the location would appeal to our top
players, who were likely to be traveling homeward after going deep in the draw in Australia.