Mats Wilander — The Man Who Fell Off the Face of the Earth
When the conversation arises about the best individual seasons in men’s tennis history there are always the usual suspects. Jimmy Connors in ’74; John McEnroe in ’84; Roger Federer in ’06; Novak Djokovic in both 2011 and 2015. Usually to be in contention these seasons must include multiple major victories, along with a peppering of other significant titles and usually a win percentage well over the 90% mark. Elite level statistics.
Many of the greatest players of all time don’t have a standout season that qualifies for inclusion here. Pete Sampras was dominant throughout the ’90s, yet never truly had a standout year (by his standards). Ivan Lendl for all his domination throughout the ’80s doesn’t have a season regularly mentioned in best ever lists, despite winning two majors with a W/L record of 74–6 in 1986.
Ivan, though, is generally considered the greatest player of his era. It’s perhaps this assessment along with McEnroe’s ’84 season that helps overshadow what Mats Wilander achieved throughout the ’80s himself — not least in 1988.
That season Mats Wilander won every grand slam title bar Wimbledon. He beat home favourites Pat Cash and Henri Leconte at the Australian and French Open respectively, before outlasting the machine-like Lendl at the US Open final — a classic war of attrition which lasted just short of 5 hours and to this day remains the joint longest men’s final in US Open history.
Wilander had already won grand slam tournaments and throughout the ’80s no player won more — both Wilander and Lendl claimed seven during that decade. But his victory against Ivan the Terrible cemented him as the World Number 1. Wilander was 24 years old and seemingly had the world at his feet.
Then he fell from the face of the Earth.
But what happened?
Wilander was never as revered by tennis fans as some of his contemporaries or predecessors. He wasn’t particularly charismatic or controversial. His game didn’t possess the artistry of McEnroe, the power and flair of Becker or even the aggression of Lendl. Wilander had a tendency to grind out victories, using his tennis nous and strategy to beat his opponents. He couldn’t simply do a Federer and blast opponents off the court.
Wilander touched on this during an interview with Ubitennis in 2020 — “I had to play every single player and beat him with tactics, stamina and high percentage tennis… I always had to work for it. And eventually the mind says ‘you know what, I don’t really feel like getting dirty’ and then you start losing and there comes that big drop.”
Mats very much knew his limitations and having zero natural weapons kept him humble as a professional. So much so that he recalled embarrassment about being ranked ahead of Miroslav Mecir, the former Slovak world number 4, whom Wilander perceived as being far more talented. Humility played a role in his sliding down the rankings from 1989 — despite possessing seven grand slam titles Mats never truly believed he was better than the other players around him. Nor did he seek to improve his game once he reached the summit of men’s tennis, something that is requisite of being the world’s best by today’s standards.
More telling however is the fact that according to Mats himself he had “emotionally checked out” once he had reached number 1. It’s easy to look at elite tennis players and athletes in general as machines programmed to simply win, but for the majority that’s simply not the case. Mats, consciously or otherwise, felt he had achieved everything he wanted to. Add to this the external distraction of his father’s illness in ’89 and eventual passing in 1990 and the slide seems inevitable in hindsight.
His mind was simply elsewhere. Wilander couldn’t put in the necessary focus required to maintain or improve his levels. Only one of his thirty-three career titles came after 1988 at Itaparica in 1990. Mats has implied he only won the tournament due to other players indulging too much in partying on the Brazilian island — told you he was humble.
When a modern player is 24 years old, especially on the men’s side, the assumption is they’re only beginning to reach their peak. The game has developed so drastically since Wilander’s time that players take longer to develop and as a result more professionalism is required. That lack of professionalism is another factor Wilander attributes to his steep plummet down the rankings. However, he’s not alone.
McEnroe won his last major title at 25 years old. His own decline he attributed to burn out, as well as personal problems. Whilst McEnroe did make somewhat of a comeback towards the end of the ’80s and early ’90s he never reached the heights of winning majors again. Even Bjorn Borg lost motivation and stopped playing at 26. These were different times.
It’s hard to imagine any modern-era professional letting external distractions get in the way of their career, no matter how severe. They’re in their own world. Players nowadays are playing their best tennis well into their thirties and travel with entourages designed to help them maximise their potential. This was unusual in the ’80s. Most players would travel alone, perhaps with a physio at most. Tennis could be a lonely sport.
It could be stated that Wilander wasn’t an unusual case, just the most glaringly obvious case of a sharp decline. Probably because his game required 100% commitment to the cause, every ounce of his brain power completely necessary to outwit his opponents. For Wilander, it seems, tennis was more emotionally and mentally taxing compared to the average top player. Mats couldn’t go into cruise control and ease through matches.
The ironic twist to Wilander’s sharp professional fall is that he is still very much present and vocal in the modern game. He has put his tennis brain to great use, and has been a top commentator and pundit for years. At times he has been outspoken and is partial to a hot take or two, but with Mats you always know you’re getting thoughtful, insightful and interesting opinions on whatever match or player he is covering.
Maybe this adds an element of intrigue to how his career petered out since it’s very apparent he still has an unwavering passion for tennis. However this is a man also passionate about life. He appreciates good music, he’s dabbled in poetry and loves nothing more than the freedom of travelling in his RV sometimes for months at a time.
Only Mats Wilander will know for sure, but it seems for him there was always more to life than tennis, despite his enduring love for the game. He couldn’t replicate the intense focus needed to be at the very top and that’s OK.
Maybe Mats is just an interesting and interested man who saw life beyond the sport. Fair enough.
