A Champion's Mind - Pete Sampras

inexplicably collapsed. By then Tim was already on medication for what was supposed to have been a
congenital heart condition; doctors said that he had suffered ministrokes the previous times he collapsed,
and traced the blackouts to a heart-valve malfunction. Tom rushed Tim to the hospital while I went out and
played—and won—my match. I went to the hospital later, just to see what was going on, and I was told
that Tim was going to be “okay.” The press was waiting for me after the visit, and I repeated the
information.
My next match was against Sweden’s Magnus Larsson, the same guy who had tagged me in the Grand
Slam Cup barely a month earlier. I started terribly, although I can’t say Tim’s collapse was a factor. At the
time, there was still no real cause for alarm because nothing was determined.
Soon I was down two sets to none and in a third-set dogfight. In my entire Grand Slam career, I had
only come back from a two-sets-to-none deficit to win once before, at the French Open, against Tomas
Muster. But I fought my way back into it, winning the last three sets 7–5, 6–4, 6–4. When the smoke
cleared, Larsson had fired one more ace (nineteen) than me. He told the press he simply couldn’t play any
better than he had on that day.
After the Larsson match, I went to the hospital again. When I walked into Tim’s room the mood was
very subdued. Tim and Tom both made an effort to remain calm, but they couldn’t really hold it together.
They both tried to make small talk but soon broke down in tears and wept. Tim had gone through a barrage
of tests at a private clinic, they told me, and had been advised to return home to Chicago for further tests.
Up to that point, the Gulliksons had been vague about Tim’s problem, and didn’t know themselves what
might be wrong. They were also trying to shield me from distraction by downplaying things. They
continued to take that tack, and I didn’t press them for answers they either couldn’t or didn’t feel right
about providing. I figured they would tell me what they wanted me to know when the time came. My own
job, I felt, was to stay strong and focused. I needed to go out and play well, because the last thing Tim
needed was to start feeling guilty over how he was impacting my game—and Tim was just the kind of guy
to do that.
The brothers told me they had already booked their flight and would be leaving the day I played my
next match—a quarterfinal against Jim Courier. That match could in many ways have been a celebration
of sorts, even though Jim and I had become rivals. Now and then we even sniped at each other in the
press. It was nothing serious, just two very competitive guys suffering from testosterone overload, each
wanting his share of the spoils and rewards. But we still went back a long way together, and Jim’s coach,
Brad Stine, was friends with Tim and Tom. There was an American connection, a Bollettieri connection,
all kinds of connections. But Tim’s condition hung like a dark cloud over everything. And he was
definitely leaving before the match.
At the last minute, someone decided that we all ought to get together for a “farewell dinner” for Tim,
the night before I played Jim. It was a good suggestion and a nice gesture. The dinner took place at an
Italian restaurant in downtown Melbourne. We made small talk about all kinds of things and tried to keep
it lively and fun. The only subjects we wanted to avoid were Tim’s condition and my upcoming match
with Jim. But everyone was feeling very nervous for Tim, and the entire occasion was somewhat forced.
It took some effort to keep up the jock banter. Tennis players thrive on the familiar, and this was foreign
territory for us, emotionally; the added tension of knowing Jim and I were playing the next day didn’t
help.
Down deep, I had a terrible feeling that things were falling apart, but I was very lucky about one thing,
from a purely selfish perspective. Paul Annacone, a pro who has always kind of looked out for me, was in
Australia playing in his last Grand Slam event before he retired—in fact, he was playing only doubles. I
asked Paul if he had any interest in staying on to help me out at the tournament until we knew what the
story was with Tim, and he agreed to do it.
Very early in my career, our mutual agent, Gavin Forbes, made sure I got to know Paul. We got together