professional tennis player

Prior to Tomas Berdych reaching the 2010 Wimbledon final, there have only been two men from Czechoslovakia – or the Czech Republic – who have won the men’s singles title at Wimbledon. Jaroslav Drobny was the first when, in his 11^th appearance in the Wimbledon field, won the singles title in 1954, defeating Ken Rosewall in the final. Jan Kodes was the most recent Czech men’s winner at the All England Club in 1973 when he beat Alex Metreveli of the Soviet Union in the final.

Kodes discuses the 1973 Wimbledon final in this exclusive excerpt from his new book JAN KODES: A JOURNEY TO GLORY FROM BEHIND THE IRON CURTAIN.

JAN KODES: A JOURNEY TO GLORY FROM BEHIND THE IRON CURTAIN was originally published in Czech and provides a narrative and illustrated history of Czech tennis through the eyes of Kodes and author Peter Kolar. The book, filled with hundreds of unique and personal photographs, documents the successful journey of Kodes from political turmoil of the Cold War to international tennis fame, detailing the early days of darkness and family persecution in communist Czechoslovakia and the complexities of becoming a professional tennis player under a totalitarian regime. Entertaining anecdotes featuring Czech tennis legends Ivan Lendl and Martina Navratilova are also featured as well as the stories behind Kodes’ victories at Wimbledon and the French Open and his two runner-up finishes at the U.S. Open. The book is available for $49.95 in bookstores and retail outlets across the United States and Canada. It is a deluxe glossy photo and text hard cover that fills 548 pages and can be purchased on amazon.com for $36.46)

The evening before my final match they showed clips on television from the matches played in the last few days. There was Metreveli defeating Jimmy Connors and Alex Mayer, the winner over the Rumanian Nastase, and then they showed my match against Taylor. In the train of the clips Jack Kramer and Fred Perry made their commentaries. They talked with Dan Maskell, a former Davis Cup player in the era of our Kozeluh and afterwards a Wimbledon commentator for many years: “It is the first time in the history of this championship that two players from communist countries face off in the finals. Who will prevail?”

“If I were to put money down on anybody it would be Kodes” said Fred Perry. “Why? Because he won Paris twice and he reached the finals on grass at Forest Hills. Metreveli will be nervous, he does not have much experience dealing with the pressures of a final match.”

“I was Kodes’ commentator in 1971 at Forest Hills, where he defeated Newcombe and Ashe,” said Jack Kramer. “He has a dangerous serve return and his game on grass improved tremendously. He is a more complete tennis player now, after winning Roland Garros twice and he showed against Taylor that his serve is adequate.”

These comments made me feel very good. I persuaded myself that if experts say that I am better, it must be so.

I went to bed around 10:30 pm. I called the reception and asked not to forward any calls to me since I did not want to be disturbed in the middle of the night or early in the morning. I put cotton wool in my ears and took half of an aspirin to warm my body through. I did all that in order to have a good rest before the finals.

In the morning the receptionist woke me up as I had requested and within a minute I had four phone calls! My friend, Franta Novak, told me: “I could not get hold of you!” Others asked: “What is going on with you? It is impossible to reach you!” I only blessed my fantastic foresight that I might get disturbed by phone calls. In real terms I found myself fitting a true “professional” with all that it entailed.

On the way to Wimbledon I realized that I had not asked anybody to warm me up. But it didn’t disconcert me. Just making my way to the court struggling through the crowds will tire me out! Well, I’ll have a massage done and warm up in the locker room. Inwardly I decided that I did not need the on-the-court warm up.

Upon my arrival I spotted Metreveli warming up on court number two! I panicked and was overwhelmed with a feeling that I should, indeed, warm up a little. I looked around and found no players in sight; they have already left. Damn it, who shall I hit with? At that moment the veterans finished some doubles and they came to the locker room all sweaty and tired out, among them Vic Seixas, a 1953 Wimbledon champion, By the way, Vic was one of the first individuals who came to me after the match with Taylor and told me how unfair was the suspension of play at 4:5; he did not remember anything of the sort ever taking place at Wimbledon before.

I approached him: “Vic, I am due to go on the court to play the finals in a few minutes but I have nobody to warm up with. I am a bit nervous and need just a few minutes to hit balls back and forth. Would you pop up a few balls for me? Fifteen minutes, no more than that.”

“You don’t think that I could warm you up? I can’t take that responsibility.” He knew what it entailed to be in the finals and he was afraid he could not warm me up sufficiently.

“Vic, only a few minutes; you’ll serve, I’ll return in order to get the rhythm going!”

“But Jan, how can I warm you up?”

“Come on, we are both changed to play…”

I talked him into it, picked up balls and we went to court number two. I started a rally but he was unable to respond successfully. Poor guy was more nervous than I was! I needed only a few hits, a return, some serves, a few volleys, just to get the timing going…

We spent about twenty minutes on the court and as we were returning to the locker room he said: “I know this did not give you much but I hope that it helped you and you’ll win the first set.”

I took a shower, light massage and off I went to the Centre Court.

I was immensely grateful to Vic for those twenty minutes of warm up. He knew very well the meaning of what he said when he wished me good luck in the first set. On grass, success at the beginning of the match is terribly important. If I launch the set well my opponent will “miss the train. ”And that is exactly what happened! I won the first set 6:1. It was my return that determined it; down the line, under the feet. Whatever I touched resulted in great outcomes!

On my serve I flew to the net like a lion to approach close to the net and execute volleys.

All was going well.

Metreveli was anxious to say the least; his facial expressions told me that he was overcome by crisis. He was making faults on his first serves and I capitalized on that. I noticed this “drowning” and I pulled out effective self-talk: “The more games you make now, before he crawls out of the slump, the better. I knew that his stumble could not go on for ever. Metreveli recovered right at the beginning of the second set. At 0:1 he played a beautiful volley drop shot and it made the stands roar. Up until that point the audience was neutral, as if they did not want to get involved in the development of the match. But when I later renewed my lead they seemed to side with me, which helped me very much.

Metreveli caught on with that drop shot volley. The match then swayed like a swing: 0:2, 2:2. 2:4. Twice we each won serve of the other. At 4:5 Metreveli even had a set point on Kodes’serve!

Should I serve into his forehand, or backhand? I decided to go for the third alternative – directly into his body. He could have returned it with his backhand but he lacked confidence in its success. He ran around it and played it with his forehand and failed. The set continued to 8:8 and a tie-break that I managed to win, and with that I won the second set 9:8. Later I realized, that historically, I won the first ever tie-break played in Wimbledon singles final!!

So, I was leading 2:0 in sets but I knew that the match was not won yet. One must know himself well enough to judge what he is capable of. And in the decisive moment one must be able to play what he is capable of playing and trust that he will succeed in it. One cannot wallow when the first Wimbledon match point comes around but rather concentrate on each individual point with patience until the very end. It is the brain that directs the play.

However, we are only human. It takes a toss put up a bit too far to the left or to the right and the serve doesn’t land where I intended it to. Or the arm stiffens up, legs tighten, and the confidence and fortitude vanish, cramps creep up, throat dries up, and suddenly it is over! It hit me at 4:2 and 40:15 in the third set. I was serving and I had to wait for some lady, who was making a disturbance, to quiet down. She was right behind the score board. As I lingered I looked in that direction and spotted 6:1, 9:8, 4:2. Until that point of the game I was quite unaware of the score but at that instant I told myself: “Just two more games!”

All of a sudden I felt I was getting tight. I turned toward a ballboy and talked to myself:

“Relax! Don’t worry!

You are ahead and he has no chance today; you are better!” In that moment I must not allow the possibility of a double fault. On the contrary, I had to concentrate and even before striking the serve I had to decide on what I was going to play as the point developed. “First serve into his backhand, run quickly to the net, be vigilant of a high forehand volley. If he returns to my backhand, I’ll hit it down the line!”

I extended the pause before serving, looking up into the sky and completely loosening up. I hit the first serve in and put away the volley, advancing the score to 5:2. All the anxiety fell off me!

Metreveli pulled back on his serve to 5:3 but that was the last sign of resistance from him. It was 16:35 London time when Metreveli hit the last ball into the net, and all Kodes could think of at that moment was: “At least I won’t get scolded at home for losing to Metreveli!”

I didn’t feel so much pressure because I was playing the Wimbledon final, but rather because I was playing against him. I would have been more relaxed facing Nastase or Newcombe on the other side of the net. I would not have felt such responsibility. The Wimbledon title was a reward for the extremely hard work put into my preparation, the willpower I put forth in my training in order to succeed even on grass. The essence of the victory in this match was not just the trophy; it embraced all my achievements on grass in the early 1970s. I won the dual and achieved success even on the surface that had inflicted distress to me at the beginning of my career.

As I was departing from the court I felt a hundred percent confidence that the British as well as people from the rest of the world were happy that Kodes won. I felt good that people at home would be content. I did not think in terms of “communist party and my government” but rather as a fellow countryman, who detested the Russians after what they had done to us invading in 1968.

England was also content. Their darling Taylor lost with the eventual winner. They, too, were glad that the winner was not a Russian. The world was different then. The political scene has changed by now and when Sharapova wins the audience goes wild.

As soon as the fresh Wimbledon champion submerged himself into the locker room hot tub the chairman of the Czechoslovak Tennis Federation Stanislav Chvatal and Ivan Lichner came to congratulate him.

“Well, Jan, where is the T-shirt you played in?” asked the chief of the Czech Tennis. Jan gave it to him but later relented. Stanislav Chvatal perceived it and within a few months after retiring from his position of a chairman he returned the T-shirt back to Jan.

The traditional banquet “Dinner of the Champions” took place in Savoy Hotel. He tried to dance the introductory waltz in his rented dinner-jacket with a daughter of the president of the All England Lawn Tennis Club Mr Herman F. David. The women doubles final and delayed mixed doubles matches had been switched to play on Sunday. The women’s champion Billie Jean King had to play five matches in 24 hours and therefore was not able to come. Because Jan was returning to Prague next day they met only when both played at Forest Hills two months later.

The welcome at Ruzyne airport was spontaneous. There was a large crowd, but he got to hug his parents as soon as he disembarked from the plane.

I looked forward to coming home; I could have stayed two more days in London but I felt the tug to return home; I was away long enough and I was worn out.