Tennis' Biggest Loser Goes For The Win

Sascha Zverev is, among many things, proof that G-d lacks attention to detail.

The man’s body was engineered to be the greatest tennis player of all time. He’s got the genetics - his brother and parents were all professional tennis players. Standing 6’6”, the world #3 moves like an indefatigable gazelle. He has a booming serve with ridiculous groundstrokes off both wings. Big men like him are often undone by their touch, but Zverev’s hands are excellent.

It is a tad unfortunate, then, that after all that hard work, G-d cut His corners in molding Zverev’s brain.

Zverev is, generously, a mental midget. A more accurate phrase would be a consummate loser. Deficient in resolve, self-awareness, calm, and conscientiousness, his career to date has been a Sisyphean struggle of physical talent fighting mental limitations. This is a near-30-year-old who publicly whines that the sport leaves him off Instagram promos. He yells at umpires that they are the main reason he doesn’t succeed - and was kicked out of a tournament for nearly assaulting one. He has twice been sued for beating up his girlfriends (and once fined in German court).

The common announcer line for him is the “most talented player to never win a Grand Slam”. This is true in a broad sense: despite more skill than every opponent, he has never broken through. His flameouts are fairly legendary - in three previous trips to Grand Slam finals, he has regularly taken leads and then gotten so tight that - as wise Coach Neil used to tell me - “you couldn’t push a blade of grass into that asshole”.

At 29, Zverev is now an elder in his sport. He has been passed up by multiple contemporaries, but thanks to a raft of injuries to the other top players, he takes the court in Paris this Sunday against an anonymous Italian1 highly favored to win his first Grand Slam final. He stands poised to finally move into the winner’s circle. It is likely the best chance he’ll ever have to break through.

It has me wondering what winning will do to him. Can winning set him free? Can it set anyone free?

In sports lore, that is exactly what winning is supposed to do. After years struggling to get to the top of the mountain, summiting it frees you from the proverbial monkey on your back. That’s why so many great players - Michael Jordan, Steph Curry, Rory McIlroy, Roger Federer - break down after their biggest wins.

It also is supposed to turn you into the best version of yourself. Imbued with confidence, you grow out of the self-destructive habits that held you back and win at even bigger levels. I wrote a bit about this at the NBA level a couple years ago.

I’m doubtful. Winning does not change people, it reveals who they are. While the path to winning may change you - hard work, hard decisions, and setbacks all have a way of doing that - the view from the summit does not. The fame, the wealth, the success … they are accelerants, not reagents.

When I think about where Zverev might go, two paths come to mind.

The first is from one of his contemporaries: Dominic Thiem. A talented Austrian, Thiem had the “most talented player to never win a Grand Slam” belt for 3-4 years. He notched some incredible wins (Djokovic in Paris, Nadal in Australia) but couldn’t close the deal. He also looked like he couldn’t pass a blade of grass in the biggest moments and it is no coincidence when he finally broke through, it was (1) against Zverev and (2) in a 2020 final played in front of barely any fans. Zverev led that final two sets to none, and by the end of it, both players looked as though they were trying to hand the other the title.

Thiem’s reaction upon winning was pure grace. Overcome with relief, he immediately showed himself to be a statesman: consoling Zverev while the German wept during his speech, and proclaiming “I wish there could have been two winners tonight” (Editor’s note: if any final didn’t deserve a single winner, it was that one). While the rest of his tennis career was cut short by an injury 6 months later, he played with joy. Winning showed his class, and allowed him to shed his demons.

If Thiem found the light, Kevin Durant found the dark. Durant’s career had many similarities to Zverev’s. Prodigiously talented, his teams never lived up to the sum of their parts. Losing gave him so much angst he was famously quoted on a magazine cover saying “I am sick of being second. I was the second-best player in high school. I was the second pick in the draft. I’ve been second in the MVP voting three times. I came in second in the Finals”. That was the second in 5 straight years of Durant’s team pissing away chances to win the title. After the fifth failure, he joined the league’s best team, Golden State, and promptly won 2 straight titles and was rewarded with a pair of MVP trophies.

Winning though, didn’t change KD. He complained privately that he expected more public praise after he won. He grew resentful of his teammates. In 2019, he left Golden State. The last 7 years he has wandered the NBA, regularly switching teams to chase what he craved: winning on his own terms, and the public adoration that’d follow. His pursuit has been empty - more filled with scandal than success. Every team he’s left has been glad to see him go.

Durant and Zverev remind me a lot of each other. Overpowering physical tools. Hardworking and dedicated to their craft, but waylaid by their mentalities. Consummate bachelors and lone wolves. Highly sensitive, especially to public perception. A boastful shell for an insecure egg.

I hope for Zverev that he follows the path of Thiem. I suspect he follows the path of Durant. Only Flavio Cobolli stands between us and the answer.