Submissions have been edited for brevity and clarity.
Hey, everyone—and Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate …
• The 2024 tennis awards are here.
• Here’s a piece in this month’s Sports Illustrated about the mental fitness of Novak Djokovic.
• Here is a tribute to Rafa Nadal.
• Note a reader tribute to Nadal at the end …
While wondering whether, in 2040, Carlos Alcaraz coaches Jannik Sinner, or Sinner coaches Alcaraz …
Over past decades the most elite players have sought out champions as coaches (e.g., Djokovic bringing on Andy Murray, Goran Ivanišević and Andre Agassi; Nadal and Carlos Moya; Alcaraz and Juan Carlos Ferrero; Murray and Ivan Lendl, etc). There are plenty of top-flight coaches and no evidence players need slam champs to win slams (see Agassi, Stan Wawrinka, Lleyton Hewitt, etc). Why is this a trend at all? Top players and former top players have nothing to lose? The best can afford extra insight? Top former players want to stay on tour? And if there is now a market for former greats, why isn't this a trend on the ultra-competitive WTA tour (eg Martina Hingis the super strategist!)?
It surprises me—it looks different from the past where the next stop for top greats was a Davis Cup coaching slot and Wheaties commercials!
Best,
Andrew Miller, Maryland
• It’s both an interesting and topical question, as any Davis Cup or BJK Cup news was obscured by the announcement that Djokovic’s new aide-de-camp is … Andy Murray? (Wish Djokovic well in his fights against Clubber Lang.)
This is not unique to tennis, but so many elite athletes are—not unreasonably—skeptical of taking advice from those who have never done it. Thanks for your insights. But what do you know about playing in the World Series/Super Bowl/Wimbledon finals? Conventional coaches will tell you this is a hurdle they must—and sometimes can’t—overcome. How do they gain the trust of the best players when their careers compare so modestly? The flip side? There are all sorts of social science arguing that athletes are better off avoiding the elite performer as a coach. The cognitive bias that is “The curse of expertise,” is very much alive in sports. Elon Musk would not be an ideal coding instructor. Jimi Hendrix would not be your ideal guitar teacher. You’re much better off with, say, Darren Cahill or Matt Daly, who were fine players but not kissed by the tennis gods, and had to succeed by paying attention to detail, scouting opponents and relying on more than flagrant talent.
Interestingly, each of the Big Three has had a “superstar” coach who won a major and was ranked No.1: Rodger Federer-Stefan Edberg; Nadal-Moya; Djokovic-Boris Becker and Agassi. Each has also had a conventional coach, a former player who did not play top-10 tennis. (Federer had Severin Luthi and Peter Lundgren. Nadal had his uncle, Toni Nadal, and Francisco Roig. Djokovic had Marian Vajda and Carlos Gómez-Herrera (a lovely guy who was a de facto coach of Djokovic for part of 2024 and had a career-high ranking of 268).
Djokovic’s hiring of Murray was dismissed in some corners as a publicity stunt. I didn’t see it that way at all. It’s another example of Djokovic going to the basement to tinker, to (horrible mixed metaphor/cliché ahead) turn over every rock of possibility to extend his career and keep winning.
Murray is a contemporary, who has not only won multiple majors, but was an active player a few months ago and knows the field. He knows Djokovic and his game from the juniors. He is, indisputably, a tactical genius. He is a strong tennis communicator. While Murray was a grinder and Djokovic needs less grinding in his late 30s, Murray is surely capable of adjusting accordingly.
None of us is in Djokovic’s head so file this under informed speculation. But you wonder if Djokovic isn’t saying: The next major is one I’ve won 10 times. More than any male player ever. The guy who won last year might be suspended. I am rested and ready to give this one last power drive. I’m pulling out all the stops and sparing no expense. What’s a new twist, one that will energize me as well? I will hire a Hall of Fame contemporary known for his tennis cortex.
I don’t think you went to the WTA Finals. But what did you think of that event?
Nice woman at The Angelika.
• First, everyone needs to see A Real Pain. (And note Jesse Eisenberg’s ballcap.) I hope my new tennis friend enjoyed it as much as I did.
Anyway … I did not attend the WTA Finals. From where I sit, the event was a success, if a guarded one. Why? Let us count the ways …
1) Everyone got paid. It was no secret that the decision to plant the flagship event in Saudi Arabia was a financial one. The WTA shored up its balance sheets. The players made bank. Yes, the winner, Coco Gauff, flirted with $5 million—nearly twice a major winner’s purse—but also note that doubles players fared great and even alternates made $250,000. And this trickles down. Coaches got fatter bonuses. Agents, dealmakers and guests who gave clinics got paid as well.
2) There were no real controversies. There were fears that going to an autocratic country that criminalizes homosexuality and has a regrettable record on human rights was going to backfire. For now, anyway, there was no backfiring. From everything I heard, people were treated well and respectfully. It was pointed out by many, Of course, the tennis caravan was treated well. This is how sportswashing works. Everyone leaves saying nothing-to-see-here-folks. But ask the average citizen/woman a few miles from the venue and catered VIP lounge how life is going. Still, I know there were real fears—held even by the parents of some players—and those did not materialize.
3) The crowds were … well, the broadcast took pains to avoid traditional panning crowd shots. And there was one day when reportedly only 400 fans showed up. (I had one onsite source tell me the number was in fact smaller. Another onsite colleague told me it was larger, and the 400 number was unfair.) But by the end of the week, it was clear attendance was improving. Look for bigger crowds in Year 2.
4) The level of tennis was quite high. We all hate the length of the schedule. But it would be hard to make the case that quality has suffered. Staged in the same month we eat turkey, this event featured gripping matches, some nifty shotmaking and generally compelling tennis on a fast indoor surface.
5) Most players left on high notes. Elena Rybakina returned to play her first match since New York and beat Iga Świątek. Barbora Krejcikova proved she belonged and beat Gauff in reaching the semis. Aryna Sabalenka lost her last two matches but left with the No.1 ranking. Świątek closed out her season with a 6–1, 6–0 bakery job and can now take some well-deserved rest.
6) The doubles event was a success.
7) Again, it does us limited good now. And opinions on the wisdom/ethics of this big move remain a source of debate and division. But at some point, we will have some basis for assessment here. Will the WTA moving its big money-making event to Saudi Arabia be regarded as a cynical cash grab, inconsistent with a tour that stakes its reputation on human rights and equal justice? Or was this an admirable step in bringing exposure and the soft power of sports to a part of the world that seeks a different, more progressive and inclusive future? We shall see.
“Worst innovation: Two-Week Masters Series
Despite the gushing news releases, the new two-week Masters Series events are a retreat from sanity. The players despise them. (The losers are left to scramble or find shelter for two weeks. The winners devote two weeks—and sacrifice real training—for checks far smaller than the two-week majors.) The fans get watered-down sessions for a watered-up process. No one wins except management.”
May I add that two-week Masters* make it even tougher for 250-level tourneys to exist? The consequence of that is that smaller markets are deprived of live, pro tennis. I, for one, fail to see how this promotes the game.
Skip Schwarzman, Philly
• While generally an oxymoron, if there’s a “commonality in tennis” it’s that the schedule is a mess. It’s too long. It’s unwieldy. Counterintuitive. An undercutting of the value of scarcity. We also underestimate the grind of travel, displacement and jetlag. The tyranny of the schedule is compounded by the change in surfaces, conditions and even ball brands.
What did tennis do in 2024, decades into this discussion? It chopped a few events but added bloat and flab to the 1000s. The Davis Cup and Billie Jean King Cup still runneth over into the latter half of November. Its “leaders” talked straight-facedly about starting Week 1 in the latter days of December of the previous year.
As a wise man said, “You gotta love this sport, to love this sport.”
If you follow other sports, you know the sanctity of the schedule. The NFL flexes games so fans have the most appealing (and telegenic) games. The UFC goes to great lengths to create scarcity and moves fights from market to market with great forethought. (The NBA’s too-long season is cited as a major factor in its declining ratings.)
Tennis? It treats its schedule the way a Dollar Store treats its inventory. It just throws everything on the shelves indiscriminately, shrugs, and hopes the consumers find something.
Any other thoughts about your buddy Jimmy Traina’s suggestion that the U.S. Open men’s final to avoid the Sunday NFL and get moved to Monday afternoon as a lead-in to the Monday Night Football?
Anonymous
• If Jimmy suggested something, I am inclined—nay, duty bound—to disagree strenuously. (That was a joke. Jimmy is a great guy and you should subscribe to his podcast.)
It’s an interesting idea. It would “unbury” tennis from the NFL and provide a standalone session. The idea of bracketing the tennis with Monday Night Football isn’t bad—though an NFL kickoff isn’t going to be delayed if a preceding tennis match goes longer than anticipated.
Points against:
- Tennis is a global sport and this time slot for a major final would be brutal for most non-American audiences. At the price of those rights … it’s an ESPN call, as much as a USTA call. If ESPN wanted it, I suspect it would happen.
- Remember the pre-roof days when rain caused the delay of the men’s final and we had a few Monday starts? Note the ratings here.
- You’d lose the celebrity factor that was such a storyline at the men’s final this year. Taylor Swift, Travis Kelce, the Beeb, Leonardo DiCaprioetc. They’ll spend a Sunday at the tennis. Asking them to come Monday, late afternoon, is the proverbial big ask.
- In theory, that Monday is the start of a new ATP and WTA week. A Monday final would be a further incursion on the tours’ turf.
Jon, you were probably too modest to write this in your Year-end Awards Column. So I’ll do it for you. Best New Tennis Podcast: Served.
Jeff G.
•Thanks. Look for an announcement from us soon.
HAVE A GREAT WEEK, EVERYONE!
A reader tribute to Rafa to take us out:
Gracias, Rafa, Por Todo
By Lubna Qureishi
Readers, when I wrote my first ode about Rafael Nadal here, someone commented, “Wow she must have a lot of time on her hands.” Nope, just a lot of heart. For an epic player. I had also told you that my dream job would be sportscaster, but just for Rafael Nadal. Well, I never quite got my 15 minutes of fame on ESPN. Or even 15 seconds. It was more like .15 of a second. But I’ll get to that later. When Rafa announced his retirement at the end of Davis Cup, well, I just had to say a few things. Rafael Nadal spoiled me quite simply, by winning. Especially in Paris. For two weeks at the French Open, I witnessed the Spaniard, pummeling away at any resolve his opponents could muster, to face the myth and reality of the man on the other side. “Jeu Nadal”, were my favorite words when the tournament got underway; French accented words that evoked embroidering a cushion vs. making mincemeat out of his opponent, game after game, match after match, words as reliable as … butter in a croissant. At Roland Garros Nadal was the best. Oh, that jeu: streaking across the clay for that impossible, fierce forehand get, sliding to hit a line-grazing shot, relentlessly returning whatever came his way.
He spoiled me as I witnessed history being made, the total dominance of one man on a challenging surface, leaving nearly every one of his opponents to bite the (red) dust. It was a scene I never tired of at the end of the tournament: Nadal, splotched with the terra cotta stain of victory, holding the trophy, the King of Clay reigning supreme. He not only won the tournament, he owned it, with 112 wins and 4 losses.
He spoiled me on other surfaces too; winning all Grand Slams at least twice. Spoiling me (and stressing me out) also as the King of Comebacks. I watched him play to victory after losing a two-set lead against Daniil Medvedev in the 2019 U.S. Open final and claw his way to victory from two sets down in the epic ’22 Australian Open final (sorry not sorry again, Medvedev.) And let’s not forget what is called the best tennis match in history, Wimbledon 2008, where he defeated his nemesis in style and sport, The Swan, Roger Federer, taking tennis to a whole new level, giving fans a rivalry to relish and a friendship to cherish. Whatever surface he played, Rafa’s jeu took over my entire sports fandom being. There was no more space for football, ice skating, or bowling (kidding.) Nadal once said, “I play each point like my life depended on it.” Well, I watched every Nadal point like my life depended on it. Advantage Nadal. Deuce. Advantage Djokovic, Deuce, Advantage Nadal. Game Nadal.
Once while doing the dishes, I became distracted by a Rafa point and accidentally gave myself a shower. My kids would wake up shocked to midnight cheers when I watched Nadal live in Melbourne or join me after dawn on the couch for breakfast at Wimbledon. Pausing a match to watch later presented its own problems, as I told everyone who knew me, including the guy at the checkout line (okay, maybe not him), I haven’t watched the match yet! Don’t look at me, don’t tell me the result! My biggest mistake: the time I didn’t schedule the recording for six hours (had I not learned anything watching Nadal’s five-hour-plus finals?) I frantically told my son to look for the last 20 minutes of the match on YouTube so I wouldn’t inadvertently find out who won.
Nadal spoiled me with his humanity, acknowledging the world’s struggle with the pandemic more than his thirteenth victory in a French Open rescheduled to October 2020. He spoiled me with his humility, never breaking a racket and never really looking reporters in the eye during those early press conferences as he was coming into his own greatness. Rather than revel in his wins, he consoled his opponents, giving his shoulder to a teary Federer or encouragement to Djokovic. It didn’t matter that English wasn’t his first language; as I said before, humility needs no translation. He spoiled me so much that I forgot he was human, after the times he defied the odds to win, whether down two sets or down with injury. But as he said in his retirement announcement, “Everything in this life has a beginning and an end…” Oh yeah.
As some of you might know, something happens when one follows an athlete for decades. Rafael Nadal became like family, (a one-sided member of course, with no clue of our existence.) Well, what do you expect when we all call his coach Uncle Toni? I Google Rafa just to see how he’s doing (can’t call him—time difference, you know?) I know that he does his leaps before his match, can recognize his grunt as he hits the ball, or read a certain expression of pain on his face that could mean injury. When he and his wife had Rafa Jr., I was thrilled. I began playing in my head what I would say if I ever came face to face with him—would I ask for a selfie? A signature on a tennis ball? No! Because I’d want to tell him something about what he means to me, even if he wouldn’t remember it the next hour. But maybe he would?
So thank you, Rafa, for the joy and the stress of your victories and even your defeats, for spoiling us in every way, for showing us what great sport and great sportsmanship is. And gracias, Rafa for choosing to take a second (rather .15) to be gracious with me, a couple of years ago at the U.S. Open. My family and I had watched Rafa play a third-round match against Richard Gasquet. Afterward, we went to the ESPN booth to see Rafa’s interview. As we waited, I thought to go towards the entrance of the booth; maybe I could get a better look at Rafa or even come near him. So there I was, approaching, holding a Spanish flag the size of Mallorca, thirty feet away from the path. And then I saw Rafa walking in front of me towards the booth. Did I ever figure out what I would say? Do I say nothing? But then I’d regret it! And why does he have to walk so fast? Oh yeah, because he’s a beast of an athlete! How do I stop him? Seize the moment, I told myself. Even if he’d never remember it, I would.
“Gracias! Gracias por todo!” I called out. Loudly. My flag caught his attention. Our eyes actually met! He gave me a nod of thanks, but then he slowed down, and over the fence, between burly bodyguards, he offered his hand and fist-bumped me! Was there even a unit of time that could define this little exchange? It was over before it began! Still, I had to collect myself after this brief little scrimmage (I know, wrong sport.) And then a friend texted, “I just saw you on ESPN!” What?! When I watched the video, there was Rafa, walking to his interview and stopping to give a fist bump. Two arm spans (my arm a bit less buff) to the left of the screen was the brief apparition that was me, with a grin almost the size of my flag on my face. An apparition that you can see only if you slow down the video, as if to confirm the ethereal, supernatural quality of it all, a fleeting moment that was mythic and real, like Rafa himself.
And while I wish him all the best for his next phase in life, I wish the King of Clay would extend his reign to spoil me, just a little more, with his unmistakable jeu, Nadal. And I wish I could extend my .15 seconds to 15 minutes! As he told us in his recent announcement of retirement video, “mil gracias, a todos.” And to him I cannot say it enough, gracias por todo. And Vamos, Rafa!
This article was originally published on www.si.com as Tennis Mailbag: Superstar Coaches Are Here to Stay.