How lucky are the current generation of tennis fans? We’re
being treated to the man who seems destined to go down as the greatest
of all time, Roger Federer, and another, Rafael Nadal, who with every new title
looks like he’s ready to throw a major spanner in the works – while
Novak Djokovic’s robotic approach to improving himself means anything is
possible.
The same can be said for the right support team. If you’re not surrounding yourself with the right people, you’re setting up hurdles to overcome before you even get on the court. For a modern day example, look no further than two-time Grand Slam winner Andy Murray and his transformation under coach Ivan Lendl from an also-ran to a two-time champ. But more on that later…
And then there’s Serena Williams, fresh from muscling her way to a 17th Grand Slam title, who is strengthening her case to be crowned the greatest women’s player of all time. So many champions gracing our courts and TV screens. It begs the question: what really makes a champion?
Natural ability goes a long way. Without it, you can fight as much as you want but you’ll never quite get there. A booming serve? Razor sharp backhand? The determination to fight tooth and nail for every point as if it’s the one that will deliver you a Grand Slam – much like Lleyton Hewitt? Well, you’re not going to get very far without at least a couple in your arsenal.
Because all champions have something else. A calmness. A clutchness. And above all, the confidence that they are, in fact, the best there is. Those who are truly great genuinely believe they won’t be beaten – even if everyone else does. Athletes who had their opponents rattled by the end of their warm up.
In some cases it simply comes down to a superior work ethic. How else do you explain Rod Laver? A 173cm scrapper from the Aussie outback rising to not only become the best player on the planet, but force his way into the argument for the greatest of all time. Laver’s two greatest qualities – his work ethic and toughness – were forged in his early years on his dad’s cattle farm, and also led to him developing a freakishly muscular left forearm which rendered his powerful forehands near unplayable.
Hard work was also at the core of Ivan Lendl’s eight Grand Slam titles, a trait that will ensure he goes down in history as one of the sport’s most ruthless competitors. A powerful baseline specialist whose relentless play at times bordered on robotic, Lendl could never be accused of being the most stylish player on the tour and early on had a reputation as a Grand Slam choker.
It took six years after his ATP debut before Lendl shook that tag – and took his first major steps towards becoming a champion. Armed with renewed mental steel, he managed to come back from two sets down against John McEnroe to claim the 1984 French Open in five sets. The mental fortitude that had eluded him soon became a strength, carrying the stony-faced Czech to three French titles, three US Opens and two in Australia – but no Wimbledons. Which brings us to Lendl’s work in moulding one of the game’s current champions.
Prior to linking with ‘Ivan the Terrible’, Andy Murray was developing a reputation for being close, but not quite good enough. Making Grand Slam finals is one thing, but getting blown off the court in straight sets – as Murray did in his first three finals – doesn’t do much to enhance your hero status. Enter Lendl as coach, adding the polish and toughness to the relentless competitive nature that had been instilled by Murray’s domineering mother, Judy, who was also never far from the action.
But if you want to build a champion, maybe it would be easiest just to take the best from the best. The longevity of Sampras, the coolness of Federer, the clay-court dominance of Nadal and Ivanisevic’s booming serve. Throw in Pat Rafter’s serve-and-volley game, Boris Becker’s athleticism and the ability to impart topspin like Bjorn Borg – and you’ve got yourself a winner.
The same can be said for the right support team. If you’re not surrounding yourself with the right people, you’re setting up hurdles to overcome before you even get on the court. For a modern day example, look no further than two-time Grand Slam winner Andy Murray and his transformation under coach Ivan Lendl from an also-ran to a two-time champ. But more on that later…
And then there’s Serena Williams, fresh from muscling her way to a 17th Grand Slam title, who is strengthening her case to be crowned the greatest women’s player of all time. So many champions gracing our courts and TV screens. It begs the question: what really makes a champion?
Natural ability goes a long way. Without it, you can fight as much as you want but you’ll never quite get there. A booming serve? Razor sharp backhand? The determination to fight tooth and nail for every point as if it’s the one that will deliver you a Grand Slam – much like Lleyton Hewitt? Well, you’re not going to get very far without at least a couple in your arsenal.
Because all champions have something else. A calmness. A clutchness. And above all, the confidence that they are, in fact, the best there is. Those who are truly great genuinely believe they won’t be beaten – even if everyone else does. Athletes who had their opponents rattled by the end of their warm up.
In some cases it simply comes down to a superior work ethic. How else do you explain Rod Laver? A 173cm scrapper from the Aussie outback rising to not only become the best player on the planet, but force his way into the argument for the greatest of all time. Laver’s two greatest qualities – his work ethic and toughness – were forged in his early years on his dad’s cattle farm, and also led to him developing a freakishly muscular left forearm which rendered his powerful forehands near unplayable.
Hard work was also at the core of Ivan Lendl’s eight Grand Slam titles, a trait that will ensure he goes down in history as one of the sport’s most ruthless competitors. A powerful baseline specialist whose relentless play at times bordered on robotic, Lendl could never be accused of being the most stylish player on the tour and early on had a reputation as a Grand Slam choker.
It took six years after his ATP debut before Lendl shook that tag – and took his first major steps towards becoming a champion. Armed with renewed mental steel, he managed to come back from two sets down against John McEnroe to claim the 1984 French Open in five sets. The mental fortitude that had eluded him soon became a strength, carrying the stony-faced Czech to three French titles, three US Opens and two in Australia – but no Wimbledons. Which brings us to Lendl’s work in moulding one of the game’s current champions.
Prior to linking with ‘Ivan the Terrible’, Andy Murray was developing a reputation for being close, but not quite good enough. Making Grand Slam finals is one thing, but getting blown off the court in straight sets – as Murray did in his first three finals – doesn’t do much to enhance your hero status. Enter Lendl as coach, adding the polish and toughness to the relentless competitive nature that had been instilled by Murray’s domineering mother, Judy, who was also never far from the action.
But if you want to build a champion, maybe it would be easiest just to take the best from the best. The longevity of Sampras, the coolness of Federer, the clay-court dominance of Nadal and Ivanisevic’s booming serve. Throw in Pat Rafter’s serve-and-volley game, Boris Becker’s athleticism and the ability to impart topspin like Bjorn Borg – and you’ve got yourself a winner.
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