The St. Pete Sampras Tennis Fan Club

Being a bit of a homebody, I don’t often get across the bridge. Tampa is a dirty word in my house. But, every once in a while, a friend or relative will acquire tickets to something really cool, and I am obliged to leave my little corner of St. Petersburg. Just such an occasion presented itself the other weekend when I was invited to watch Pete Sampras play in the Mercedes-Benz Classic at the St. Pete Times Forum.
Now, before I tell you how incredible it was to watch Pete Sampras play, I realize I need to explain to half of you just who the heck he is.
The thought that there might be somebody out there who has not heard of Pete Sampras would have been incredible to me a week ago. I mean, I never watch basketball, but I know who Michael Jordan is. However, when I pitched this column idea to my colleagues – with a huge “you-are-going-to-be-so-jealous” smile on my face - they simply stared blankly. The clock ticked awkwardly for what seemed like an entire minute before one finally asked, “Who?”
Who?! “Pistol” Pete Sampras – the “King of Swing” – is arguably the greatest men’s tennis player to ever pick up a racquet. He retired from tennis in 2002 after winning his fifth US Open. But, I guess winning 14 Grand Slam titles – including a record seven at Wimbledon - doesn’t mean much to some people. I suppose 286 weeks (that’s six years) as the number one men’s tennis player in the world is no big deal.
Well, fine. I probably wouldn’t be interested in a column about Wayne Gretzky. But for you tennis fans – this one is for you.
Pete Sampras retired from competition with nearly every title tennis could afford, and an insane $43 million in career prize money. But he couldn’t stay away. The Mercedes-Benz Classic – an exhibition charity event for Courier’s Kids – was his first foray back into the world of tennis. Judging by the rock-star-worthy screams he inspired - in what I have now dubbed the St. Pete Sampras Times Forum - fans couldn’t be happier.
At the age of 35 – nearly ancient by tennis standards – Pete will be competing at “seniors” events. No, he won’t be smashing it out with Roger Federer (though wouldn’t we love to see it), but he will be back – a little greyer, a little balder – and, judging by his play the other night, no less a champion.
Pete won his best-of-three match against Tampa's own Mardy Fish (7-6, 6-4), ending on an ace, and I would like to believe that maybe it was yours-truly who got him through the tight spots. Just before his monstrous serve on match-point, I shouted “C’mon Pete!” And Pete Sampras – Mr. Wimbledon, that living legend – definitely heard me.
I am a huge tennis fan, if I haven’t made that clear. I am actually something of a geek about it. When the Grand Slams are on, I have been known to sit up until 4 am just to watch live coverage from the Australian Open. Being a June baby, I spent more than one happy birthday morning having “Breakfast at Wimbledon.” I have longed to go to Paris – not to gaze upon the Eiffel Tower or to catch a glimpse of the Mona Lisa – but to cheer in the red-clay-romp that is Roland Garros – the French Open.
But, why do I love tennis? Because unlike so many sports, tennis is a one-on-one drama. It is personality, guts and pure desire that drive players on a grueling year-round tour of tournaments. There is no “season” or draft. There are no team politics. For a tennis player, it’s you against the world and, more poignantly, you against yourself.
Of course, I’m not talking about me against myself. As anyone who has ever seen me can easily tell, I am no athlete. My idea of competition is to see how many M&Ms I can pick up with a pair of chopsticks. I did “make” the tennis team in high school, but that’s really just because they took anyone who tried out. I think I played one match – a doubles match – and lost because I couldn’t get a single serve over the net.
That fact, however, only makes me love tennis all the more. How do they do it? Andy Roddick is on record with a 155mph serve. Some cars won’t even go that fast, people.
Polo may be the sport of kings, and baseball might be America’s past-time, but tennis is the truest test of will, a spectacle of spirit. Just when you think that a player can’t give any more, he digs deep and comes up with the grit to pull through. And, maybe that’s why I admire it so much: it’s a little bit like life. Only, without the big fat prize money.

Published in The Gabber Newspaper 5/10/07