Mourning my loss
What do you do when you lose the longest tennis match in history? I walked off the court on Thursday evening feeling fine physically. Then I went to the dressing room, sat down and cried.
I cried and cried for about an hour. It was bizarre because I’m not the crying type. Naturally, I was upset at losing to the American player John Isner in the fifth set, 70-68. But it was more than that. The adrenaline, the tension, the sheer intensity of playing for 11 hours and five minutes over three days just got to me.
And I was thinking of my mother, who died five years ago — how much I wanted her to be there and how proud she would have been to see the match. It was the first time I’d wept since her death from a neurological disease when I was 23.
Advertisement
One of my trainers was in the dressing room: he put his hand on my shoulder. He didn’t need to say anything. Players were probably coming in and out but I didn’t register them. I just mopped up my tears with my Wimbledon towel.
Half an hour later I was back on court, playing a doubles match. And, do you know, it was fine. Amazingly, I didn’t even feel tired.
In the blood
I come from a tennis-playing family: my father, who’s an engineer, my mother and my sister and two brothers all played for pleasure. At six, I joined the tennis club in our village near Angers in northwest France. My hero was Pete Sampras. In the end, my parents sent me to a tennis academy in Poitiers for two years — most of it paid for by the tennis federation.
For me, Wimbledon has always been the biggest tournament. It’s there that I became the boys’ singles champion 10 years ago. It was one of the biggest moments in my career. Last year, though, was a turning point. For five months I suffered from a shoulder injury, only to get an injury to my elbow and then one to my foot. It was difficult to come to terms with. I was 28. I asked: did I really want to keep playing? But in the end I realised I wasn’t ready to stop.
Gentleman giant
On the circuit, I knew Isner by sight — you can’t avoid him because he’s 6ft 9in. I’m 6ft 3in but he makes me look a midget. I’d never talked to him. I was too nervous about my poor English to say anything to the American players.
Advertisement
Now I really want to be able to talk to John — though, for the time being, just exchanged glances will probably be enough. After this match, we have a bond that will probably link us for ever. I’m full of admiration for him because of his sense of fair play. He’s a true champion.
It’s not always like that on court. When he wanted to go to the lavatory during our marathon, he said: “Excuse me, but I can’t play any more because I really need to go.” He wasn’t obliged to say that; he was exceptionally polite. And when we were 59-all on the second day, I told him I could no longer see well enough to serve. He immediately said: “If you want to stop, that’s fine.”
I’m sure we’d have lots to say to each other and I’m determined to learn English. That’s why I’ve been watching a lot of Friends DVDs, with French subtitles.
In the twilight zone
On Tuesday, the first day of our match, I’d walked onto court thinking there was a possibility of winning. The crowd helped. They were mostly British; they didn’t simply support the American. The atmosphere was incredible. I’ll remember all my life the moment everyone applauded me when I lost. It was British fair play.
I’m told it was hot — up to 27C — but weirdly I didn’t feel the heat. And, you know, it’s odd: I didn’t notice the time passing on court either. On Wednesday, I realised it was dark only seven hours later, when I could no longer see the ball well. I was in a total bubble of concentration.
Advertisement
On Thursday, when it was all over, I called my girlfriend, Virginie, who’d been watching the match on TV. We’ve been together for three years and she was a great comfort. But I didn’t sleep well. I kept replaying the match in my head and thinking of what I should have done to win. I relived every ball.
I don’t aspire to be No 1, though. Can you imagine what’s required to beat one of those legends of tennis? What I do hope for is one day to get a great result at the temple of tennis. So I’ll be back.
Nicolas Mahut was talking to Corinna Honan