At home after my lesson, I go down to the basement and dig up my private stash of videotapes. These are old matches: Connors versus Krickstein, Agassi versus Sampras. I find the tape I am looking for and put it in the vcr. It is Sampras versus Australian serve-and-volley guru Rafter in the 1998 US Open in New York City. There is Rafter, whose brother had acquainted him with Buddhist teachings, sunscreen on his face like war paint, serve-and-volleying the king off the court. I was actually in New York for the match but had it taped so that I could watch it again later. I can still recall the look of absolute concentration on Rafter’s face. “I’ve just got to knuckle down and play my game,” he tells the announcers before play begins. “And if he can beat me at my game, well, I’ve just got to take my hat off to him.” Rafter, who was so poor early in his career that he once slept in an atm lobby, wins in five sets: 6-7, 6-4, 2-6, 6-4, 6-3. He went on to win the championship a few days later, donating all the prize money to a foundation for terminally ill children, proving that nice guys finish...at the net.
