We’ve all had them — peak experiences — those singular moments of sheer joy and pure ecstasy. You know them, you’ve felt them. The moment you got into college, your wedding day, the birth of a child – those precious few big bang moments when we’re flooded with a certain intoxicating mix, a heady tonic: part awe, part wonder – all magic.
An inspired victory on a tennis court is a far more pedestrian matter. Yet at the moment of triumph, whether you fall to your knees, raise your arms or offer a Jimmy Connors-like fist-pump, there’s a rush — a wave of emotion, overwhelming and unlike most anything else, basic and beyond words. Maria Sharapova put it this way: “It’s special because you’ve been practicing since you were young. It’s what you dreamed of, what you see on TV, those big trophies. And it’s just a moment. The first thing that comes to mind are all those days that were so hard when you had to push through them…[when] you never knew if you were going to have a chance to hold a trophy. But you did [everything to do it]…and you’re not regretting…It’s a really cool, incredible feeling.”
Of course, giddy celebrations don’t only happen in individual matches. Over-the-top group celebrations are the mainstays of team competitions like the Davis Cup, Fed Cup, World TeamTennis and the NCAA Championships. Billie Jean King told IT, “It’s about a team. They’re running together and huddling and picking each other up and hugging and going absolutely crazy and the crowd is getting just as excited with them. It’s fantastic to see that, to see the camaraderie. They’ve worked for the season together and the victory is a culmination.”
Almost certainly college tennis fans will get to see perhaps the most predictable celebration in tennis — the pile — when, at just the instant the NCAA team title is clinched at Stanford on May 24, an entire team dashes on court to tackle, embrace and hug each other. Pure bedlam, group elation — what’s not to love? But beware the unintended consequences. During such mayhem, many a jolly celebrant has been battered or bruised.
Individual celebrations come in countless shapes and sizes. Some are ecstatic, others subdued. When Serena Williams beats Venus Williams (or vice versa), delight vanishes; joy is muted. In contrast, in ’91, after the French won the Davis Cup, they lined up in a celebratory conga line that snaked through the Lyons arena to celebrate their first title in 59 years.
Sometimes celebrations are civilized. In ’77, after Virginia [“She’s done it, she’s really done it!”] Wade won Wimbledon in front of the Queen, the crowd broke into a chorus of “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow.” After Don Budge won the ’37 French title, cellist Pablo Casals gave him a private concert.
Other times, things are far from tame. Patrick Rafter ripped his shirt off after a big win in Australia; Michael Llodra went even further in the clothes removal department when, upon winning the Aussie Open doubles title, the Frenchman stripped down to his briefs and tossed his clothes into the crowd.
At times, there can be a cultural or political undertone. When Arthur Ashe beat Connors in ’75 to become the first African-American to win Wimbledon, he eloquently raised his arm and offered the black power salute. And last December, when the Serbians won their first Davis Cup, they shaved their heads (a troubling gesture for some critics) and then kicked off a blissful national celebration that spilled into the streets of Belgrade. Hero Novak Djokovic noted that to be with the whole city “celebrating with the people is…the best feeling you can experience.”
Other times, celebrations display pure innocence: think Kim Clijsters, who shared her ’09 U.S. Open triumph with her daughter, Jada, in a moment of disarming glee.
A single player can display a wide spectrum of celebrations. After a relieved Steffi Graf won the U.S. Open in ’88 to become the first player to claim the Golden Slam (winning all four majors and Olympic gold), her reaction was almost glum. When she won the first-ever East German tournament (just three days before German reunification), she broke down in tears. Sometimes celebrations work with an exquisite simplicity. After Gustavo Kuerten won the French Open he famously drew a heart in the Roland Garros clay. Sometimes they go awry: when Pete Sampras, after winning the U.S. Open, tossed his racket to Nike founder Phil Knight in the stands, the Wilson sailed off course and hit an attorney from Greenwich who then sued Nike. When Boris Becker won the ’89 U.S. Open, he heaved his racket high into the stands. Unfortunately, it was caught by an Ivan Lendl fan. Some celebrations make eminent sense. When Billie Jean won the Essex County Championships in ’67, organizers filled the trophy with the ice cream she adored and young Billie Jean proceeded to devour it all. But when Lendl won a big tournament in France, organizers presented him with dozens of bottles of wine, which Lendl doesn’t drink.
Tennis celebrations reflect iconic celebrations in other sports. When Jonas Bjorkman reached the ’06 Wimbledon semis, he famously hugged himself, a gesture reminiscent of the late coach Jim Valvano madly running about the arena looking for someone to hug after North Carolina State won the NCAA Championship. Similarly, after Martina Navratilova won her first singles title, she had no one to hug so she embraced an aluminum pole.
Distinct celebrations have long filled the tennis landscape. Bjorn Borg traditionally fell to his knees. Agassi did that, too, and Nick Bollettieri supposedly instructed him to stay down on his knees when he won in ’92. Then the Las Vegan created his own celebratory ritual, blowing kisses to all four corners of the arena. These days Rafa Nadal bites his trophy after every big win.
There have even been hefty legal skirmishes over victory rituals. Lleyton Hewitt tried to gain trademark rights to the “vicht” gesture that Mats Wilander originally created.
The most important and memorable victory celebration in tennis history was when Pat Cash, after winning the ’87 Wimbledon title, scrambled up to the Friends Box to hug his coach, Ian Barclay. Cash’s ascent stunned dumbstruck observers and shattered protocol. Traditionalists spoke of the “look-at-me” showmanship so common these days. Critical of our culture of self-celebration, they argued celebrations should be respectful and indicate that “you’ve been there before.”
But Cash’s climb kick-started a tradition. Wide-eyed “I want a hug” journeys into the stands became an art form. Even sedate Sampras, after winning Wimbledon in ’00, hunted down his usually reclusive parents.
Sure, the gallant old days of players marking their victory by leaping the net are long gone. Instead we now relish what has become the consistently most poignant moment in our sport. Celebrations — simple or grand, graceful or gritty — remind us that we play this game not merely to earn money or vanquish foes, but ultimately to embrace those oh-so-elemental human emotions — the sheer joy of triumph, the bliss of victory.
Tennis’ 25 Most Memorable Victory Celebrations
1. FRENCH DAVIS CUP TEAM: After upsetting the U.S. in ’91, the French Davis Cup team, led by the charismatic Yannick Noah, explodes in a Conga dance for the ages.
2. PAT CASH: After winning Wimbledon in ’87, Cash’s climb to the Friends Box launched a tradition that enlivens tennis to this day.
3. BRYAN BROS.: Mike and Bob Bryan’s signature bump is the foremost celebration ritual in tennis.
4. THE COLLEGE PILE: Time and again after a team wins the NCAA Championships, a mini-mob of student-athletes, intoxicated with glee, careen onto the court.
5. SERBIA: Rarely has a little country scored a bigger win than their ’10 Davis Cup title — a triumph that quickly spread to the streets of Belgrade.
6. VIRGINA WADE: In ’77, the rose of English tennis wins Wimbledon in front of the Queen. The crowd breaks out in a chorus of “For She’s a Jolly Good Fellow.”
7. ARTHUR ASHE: Ashe offered a gesture for the ages with a poignant fist pump after becoming the first African-American to win Wimbledon in ’75.
8. KIM CLIJSTERS: She seemed like an Olympic gymnast as she balanced on railings en route to the Friends Box after winning the U.S. Open in ’05. Three years later, her daughter, Jada, captivated the universe with her enchanting innocence.
9. BJORN BORG: In ’75, his Swedish teammates famously toss their hero in the air. Still, we prefer his timeless ritual of falling to his knees in limp disbelief after he wins Wimbledon.
10. GUSTAVO KUERTEN: Guga called on his inner Picasso and drew a heart in the clay at the ’01 French Open.
11. YANNICK NOAH: In a moment reminiscent of Arthur Ashe and his Dad at the ’68 U.S. Open, Noah and his father Zacharie, share a mighty on-court embrace after Noah’s ’83 French Open win. Yannick and friends then partied ’til dawn.
12. JIM COURIER: Few celebrated with more panache. Jimbo would go out for jogs after victories and addressed the crowd in French after winning Roland Garros, but nothing tops his leaping into the polluted Yarra River after winning the Aussie Open.
13. ANDRE AGASSI: The Las Vegan poignantly fell to his knees after winning Wimbledon and the U.S. Open, and later celebrated victories with a four-corner bow.
14. CARLOS MOYA: Andrea Petrovic now offers “The Petco Dance,” still, our favorite dance since the French conga line came when Carlos Moya and his pals linked arms in Indian Wells and danced about after the Spaniard became No. 1 in ’99.
15. VENUS WILLIAMS: The elder Williams sister is sedate when she beats Serena. But her extraordinary leaps after she finally downed Lindsey Davenport in the classic ’05 Wimbledon final was one of the most ecstatic athletic celebrations in memory.
16. PETR KORDA: Eat your heart out, Woodstock. The Czech gave us a unique scissor kick dance after each big win.
17. RAFA NADAL: A dentist’s dream, the Spaniard bites every trophy he wins.
18. MICHAEL LLODRA: After winning the Aussie men’s doubles with Fabrice Santoro, he stripped off his shirt, shoes, socks and shorts, and, dressed in briefs only, threw his clothes into the crowd.
19. PETE SAMPRAS: Few have more reclusive parents then Pete, who zealously sought them out, tucked away in the stands, after winning ’00 Wimbledon.
20. CHRIS EVERT: Evert generously hugged Martina Naratalova after her rival beat her in the ’78 Wimbledon final. Better yet, after beating Tracy Austin in the ’80 U.S. Open semis, Evert went underneath the stadium, called her father and said, “Dad, I won,” then burst into tears. She handed the phone to her mom and said, “Tell him I need him to come up for the final.”
21. JONAS BJORKMAN: ‘I’m okay, you’re okay.’ The Swede hugs himself after reaching the ’06 Wimbledon semis.
22. MARIA SHARAPOVA: After she wins Wimbledon in ’04, Modern Maria calls her mom on her Motorola cell phone prompting cynics to wonder whether this was an “I’m going to Disneyland”-like commercial move.
23. BORIS BECKER: In ’91 Becker ran through his Australian Open opposition and then sprinted out of the stadium.
24. MARTINA NAVRATOLOVA: She’s addressed adoring crowds up to 100,000, but after an early victory she was so alone she had to resort to hugging an aluminum pole.
25. DON BUDGE: After the American wins the French in ’37, the world’s most celebrated cellist, Pablo Casals, treats the American to a private concert.
