"RAFTER, NET-RUSHER FROM THE BOTTOM OF HIS HEART"
L'EQUIPE  21th May 1999 By Vincent Cognet
Semi-finalist at Roland-Garros in 1997 and finalist at Rome last year, the Australian likes clay. Considering he has grown up on this surface, he knows he hasn't to force his nature here. Armed with his only slice, he takes the net by assault... without restraint, and without apprehension either.
Without Gustavo Kuerten's impressive show of force, last Sunday, in the finale at Rome, Patrick Rafter would be now the world n°1. If the Australian had reached this supreme purpose soon after a big clay tournament, it could have invited smiles, but it would have been to misjudge the reality of the ground : the Roman finale of the U.S. Open double-winner doesn't owe anything to the chance.
Indeed, contrary to the last world level "Aussie", the boisterous Pat Cash, Rafter has trouble fully expressing his jumping talent on grass and indoor courts. His thing, it's the cement, and at a less point, the clay. His childhood and his technique of game are enough to take the apparent paradox to pieces.
Indeed it's on the red clay that Rafter took his first tennis player's steps. Built thanks to the big anthills which were adjacent to the family farm, this court was covered with a layer of fine and very slippery clay. Sped up by the stifling heat which reigns in Queensland, balls ran there as on the central court of the Foro Italico (one of the world's fastest on clay). The ease with which Rafter moves on this surface - the most demanding for the footwork - surely comes from there. This slide sense, which is natural for baseline fanatics, takes a particular relief for a serve-and-volley lover. Pete Sampras would probably give a lot to equal him in this field.
Feeling as if he was a clover on clay, then Rafter is completely free to develop his attacking game. As a novice chess player, he doesn't have an extremely large range of openings at his disposal. But efficiency comes first before variety. His weapons have the simplicity of the English language : kick and slice like anything. The kick gives its whole efficiency to his serve, with which he tortures his opponent's backhand return. The slice is useful to him for doing the "chip and charge" on the opposing second serves and for slowing down the rally's pace when this one threatens to make him lose his head and his face.
The whole makes of him the best server-volleyer (with Krajicek) of the circuit on slow surface. "Patrick is an excellent attacker on clay, as Yannick Noah and me, sums up Adriano Panatta, the organizer of the Roma event, and the last true server-volleyer who powered his way at Roland-Garros. He's acrobatic at the net, he knows how to move on clay, and he's got this slice which gives time to arrive at the net in good conditions."
It is nevertheless the case that the choice might be proved suicidal. But Rafter doesn't see things from that angle. His past experiences have imposed the procedure on him. "The first time I came and played in Europe on clay, it was in 1994, he reminds. And I had the big surprise to get good results, practising my natural game. I notably beat Muster at Roland-Garros, and I went as far as the fourth round. But, I don't know why, after that, I changed my mind... In 1995, I came very early, as early as Monte-Carlo, and I began playing from the baseline. It was a disaster. It was stupid to try to beat specialists for rallies. So, in 1997, I thought : "Come on, boy ! Come to the net ! Don't worry ! Keep to your game !" Some players as Yannick Noah and Richard Krajicek have showed me the right track. It has rather well worked."
The result hasn't been long in coming. That year, Rafter came to collect at the net the first Australian's semifinals at Roland-Garros since the one which was pulled out by Phil Dent in 1977. In September, he won the U.S. Open. Twelve months later, he repeated. The kid of Mount Isa was arrived in a new dimension.
But, he needs few things to become an ordinary mortal again. Subject to eclipses, Rafter is able to escape from the Tour because of unknown reasons. As early as last year, he vanished for six months before doing a fantastic summer campaign in United-States. This year, his Roman performance was preceded by five months of a not really deliberate vagueness. "To play well, I have to move well on the court, he merely says. And to move well, I have to play much."
It's not easy to square the circle when the failure spiral happens to put in an appearance. On clay, the risk couples with an other major drawback : the extreme narrowness of his tactical options. By the way, Rafter is the first to laugh at his game. "I know my slice backhand can drive my opponents mad, he told in Rome. That's all to the good, it's the only baseline stroke I'm able to play." He repeated this acknowledgment of weakness the evening after his hard defeat versus Kuerten. "If I play him again at Roland-Garros ? Frankly, I don't see what other things I could do... I'll play the same kind of game, and I'll keep my fingers crossed, hoping he'll play less well."
On clay, a server-volleyer can get a sound trashing. Many generations of attackers can testify to that at Roland-Garros.
Translation - thank you Marie-Thé 

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RAFTER, THE GLAMOUR TENNIS L'EQUIPE MAGAZINE N° 823
By Alain Coltier
Saturday, 17th January 1998

He's good-looking, "warlike", fond of offensive play, and nice. Last U.S. Open winner, Patrick Rafter has everything in his favor. Before "his" Australian Open, he received us at home. What if he dethrones Pete Sampras in 1998?

Brisbane. The capital of Queensland, the Texan side of Australia. Northern suburbs. Red brick-built motel; bare bedroom, livened up with a T.V. and a phone. The handset jumps. Patrick Rafter on the line: "G'day mate! Where do you stay?... Well yes, I know. The next camping-caravanning, I mean. When we still lived on the coast and that we had to move up to Brisbane for a tourney, with my mother, we stayed there... That's all very well, but I call for you in 20 minutes." He's free, Pat. Unaffected. He’s not the type to cover up his past. Why would he hide the trailer truth, a way of life which still was his, not so long ago?

An unfailing honesty, both on- and off-courts. A rather paradoxical honesty, which makes him very approachable, but which sometimes also plays him nasty tricks. For instance, in April 1997. For the Davis Cup, facing the Czech Republic, Australia already leads 3-0 after two days of competition. The tie is decided. And the Sunday singles don't count. However, the Australian Number One gets rid of David Rickl, but then he makes the big mistake of declaring into the mikes: "When I entered on the Center Court, I still was drunk after having celebrated the win too much, yesterday evening!" The Australian press even makes a great fuss about it for several days. The young man has already taken the plane to Hong Kong to play a tourney. He doesn't suspect anything. When the storm triggered by his words is reported to him, Patrick Rafter immediately understands the extent of the disaster. A public confession follows: "There wasn't anything pejorative in my words, but in hindsight, I have the feeling that I gave children a wrong impression: that of being able to drink alcohol to win matches or to assert yourself as an athlete, when it's not advisable at all." The incident is closed.

Twenty minutes later, a convertible comes to a halt on the motel car-park. His brother Geoff is with him. The radio plays American songs. Barefooted, stripped to the waist, a whatever haircut and always this love face. We set out, toward the Saint-Joseph School, where the youngest of the family, David, finishes his secondary studies. Because of the Christmas and New Year Holidays, the establishment is closed. Patrick has got from the headmaster the authorization to use the athletic track. A grass track which is reminiscent of the golden age of the antipodal athletics. Tradition. Inheritance. The sixties: Elliott, Clarke, Doubell, Halbert... and Snell, whose the mythical double of the Tokyo Olympic Games (800 - 1500 m) has never been challenged. Not even by Sebastian Coe... This morning, a general physical preparation is planned, supervised by his brother: Geoff, an acupuncturist and professional masseur... Warm-up. Jogging, stretching. Straight lines. Knees raising, heels-buttocks. Stomach muscle exercises, lower back exercises. Then series of sprints "intended for optimizing my response time for volleying". Second series of stomach muscle exercises... The routine. Classic.

When you see him working like that, anonymously, shielded from the enthusiastic fans, you get a better understanding of the charisma and the interest he arouses. Uncompromising. So big-hearted, ready to take up the impossible challenges. He's a fighter.

A session to re-start. The return after three weeks of holidays with his folks. Family, golf and beach. However without sunbathing like a moron (Carien: *lol* Love this one! - Marie-Thé: Me too! *lol*). By the way, last week, he was in Sydney to defend the cause of CoastCare, an organization for the protection of the Australian coasts for which he has become a natural spokesman: "It's incredible to see the amount of rubbish which is released every day at sea; only around Australia, there are forty thousand pieces of plastic for each square kilometer of ocean..."

Sydney indeed, the place of residence of Tony Roche. Another ex-celebrity of the sixties before becoming the enlightened guide of Ivan Lendl. An unequalled larrikin and an unrivaled tactician. Because of his work on the tour for the Australian Federation 22 weeks per year, he has ended up taking the new crowd attraction under his wing. Logical. Rafter, the heir of the big school of the continent-island. Moreover, Tony Roche was the first person he embraced after having climbed the presidential tiers at the U.S. Open: "Just knowing that Tony believes in me is very good for my morale!"

Always the Northern suburbs. Taigum, one of these hybrid neighborhoods where red bricks shamelessly border old-fashioned houses and medieval farms... An afternoon with his family. A large family. Nine children (six boys, three girls). Patrick is the sixth of the descendants... Jocelyn, his mother, is on her doorstep. Smiles. It's her who was appointed by the rest of the tribe to look after Pat's rise. It's still her who remodeled some cheap shirts after the fashions of the times for him, her who sewed small crocodiles at chest height. To be more realistic. A time when the whole family tightened their belt.

The undisputed champion of the 1997 box-office depended on his folks for a long time. Not the slightest federal subsidy. What is worse, he even failed at the A.I.S. "entrance examination". Verdict of the recruiting sergeants: "This boy has no future." A situation which constantly forced him into doing odd things: "For the first tourneys, I had two rackets: mine with broken strings and Geoff's old one. I thus served with my racket, which was lighter, before grasping in the same run-up my brother's one. Obviously, it doesn't work well!"

The house is a real maze. Jim, the patriarch, hides in his cage. Near the garage. Trade: accountant. A fan of John Newcombe. He's the one who understands tennis only from the angle of the serve-and-volley game. His motto: "This kind of game can become dreadful when all the parameters are mastered, and that they fit together as if by magic." He barely travels to see his son playing. However, this apprentice coach father still has his say. In March, didn't he suggest to Pat that he should slightly change his serve to make it deeper?

Many of the Rafter tribe jump in the pool. There is Peter, a rugby lover who had the bad idea to spend his holiday at New York right in the middle of the U.S. Open, and who found himself playing... bodyguard. David, the usual mocker, who is talking about following his brother's footsteps, but who has to take his high school exams first! And then Louise, one of the elder sisters, who lately looks after the "public relations" of the "Romeo of the Courts". Without forgetting the German shepherd not-accommodating-with-strangers. Michael and Steve, the elder, who is an accountant as well, are absent from the roll-call. From now on, he manages his little brother's business with a certain intuition: "At the beginning of the season, I asked him not to sell himself at knockdown prices, even if it meant playing without sponsors. Now, we sign contracts which are between fifteen and twenty times superior!" Some offers of all kinds land up on his desk. There even is a role in a movie.

Tea-time. Jocelyn prepares the tea for everyone. In addition to some cookies, she fetches a bulky book of press cuttings. Everything is here. We begin with the year 1993. Indianapolis. Victory over the predatory Sampras. "Ah, this picture is from an American daily! In the background, behind Pat, there's this spectator who jumps for joy. We don't know him, although he really seems to be in seventh heaven..." Jocelyn Rafter has a whole "mates network" in Australia, who support her. It's thanks to this chain of solidarity that she was able to recover the article published in "THE AGE" from Melbourne, soon after an heroic duel at Wimbledon (facing Bruguera) : "What a beautiful report! It made me cry much... Very stirring."

By the way, Wimbledon; Pat Cash, the 1987' event hit. It's difficult to resist the parallel. Pat Rafter, who just sat on the sofa, would like to brush aside any possible confusion: "After Wimbledon, Cashy lost his thirst to play. He didn't manage to control the "pressure" on his shoulders. The only condition which was acceptable in his eyes was to flight. To flee this sport. And he ended up being disgusted with it... It's important to me that I continue to have fun on the court, because I love this game. And if things begin turning for the worse, then I should be able to stand back a bit from things to continue loving tennis."

Late evening. The darkness closes in on the room. He has to get ready. There is a reception in the city hall lounge. We join him here, somewhat in his Sunday's best, holding his Mum's hand. In front of the Melbourne upper crust, he maintains: "It does me some good to hear people speaking Australian", before adding: "There is no particular road to take in order to become a champion; the main thing is to find the way which best suits your personality." Ross Orford is there. This former tourney organizer in Queensland remembers the young Rafter very well , coming into the world from Mount Isa, the town in which the golfer "Shark" Greg Norman was born as well. He remembers the training under the glaring hot sun: "It’s funny, concerning pure talent, I would have thought Geoff, but apparently the kid was more determined. Their father forced them into walking to the club, often barefooted. With the heat, there were lots of cracks on the baseline. Some often lethal spins which disheartened all the players, except Pat!"

Next morning. The sky is steely blue. Appointment at the Milton Tennis Club. The place where Guillaume Raoux won his first tourney. Geoff has booked the n°8 court from 8h00 to 10h00. Patrick Rafter, always with messy hair, spent the night at home. A few swearwords burst out at the net. In the opposite square, the local trainer, Gary Sticker, who sees the character for several years, whispers: "When this boy is unable to succeed in hitting the stroke he wants to hit, his bad mood gushes out. He's the victim of his own will of perfection... Some days, I had to wear a bike helmet to protect myself from his racket throwing! But he never gives up..."

The sun is shining... The session becomes more intense. Repetition of "two strokes" (serve-and-volley, return-and-volley). His grip. During the effort, he becomes more emotional. The urgency is his oxygen. The urgency to exist. His duels are the expression of life: clenched fists when his initiative spirit is rewarded, pursed lips when his enthusiasm betrays him.

A few stretchings in a rush. Heading for Taigum. The countryside is passing by fast. Sudden braking. A familiar figure on the verge, the broom in the hands. It's Evan Jones! The tormentor of his teens... He tells him at first that he's now a roadman for the Redcliffe town, before hurrying to clear up all misunderstanding: "I definitely gave Pat more thrashings than I received ones from him. In 1988, he was my substitute in the Queensland squad, but his life doesn't make me dream! I know all what he's been through, the amount of work he's accumulated on the court... And as he was the shortest, he had to work even harder than everybody else." No regrets.

Contact. We start again. Lucky meeting. Heaven-sent? Undoubtedly... Looking back on his life, he can measure all the progress he has done from the melting courts of Mount Isa. Those years of hassle when his archaic serve-and-volley game brought him the "punch-up" fans' jeers. Those years when he was at the core of his mates’ jokes.

The countryside is going by fast again. The radio still plays American songs. When we speak to him about his future, his ideas remain unshakable: "If I drop again to the # 50 one day and if I'm happy, it would be better than to be the Number One and a being real asshole!" And with regard to his best wishes for 1998, he can't help laughing: "A fourth round at the Australian Open? The same thing at Roland-Garros... In the end, all that isn't very important. The joy of being on the court, of taking part in and making share in the whole crowd only matters."
END
Translation - thank you Marie-Thé 

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Rafter Is Man Of The Hour 11Aug 1999 Michael Perry Cincinnati Enquirer

Heart throb just tries to stay a regular guy.
Patrick Rafter arrives at the ATP Tennis Center in a white courtesy van. As soon as he steps out of the side door, fans rush to the fence separating them from the parking lot. 
Rafter is late for practice. Monday morning, he flew from Montreal to Cincinnati with just enough time to stop at his hotel, grab a quick bite to eat, then board a van headed to the site of the Great American Insurance ATP Championship. 
Three tournament marshals escort him to the players' lounge. Rafter doesn't have time to sign autographs. He bows his head, almost apologetically, and smiles shyly as he makes his way through the crowd. 
“It's sort of tough,” Rafter said Tuesday. “I don't like the feeling of snubbing people. So many people want autographs. Usually I'm on a pretty tight schedule, and people want something and you can't give it to them. And you can't really be rude.”
This scene is repeated in city after city.
Rafter, ranked No.4 in the world, begins defense of his ATP Championship title today against No.60 Daniel Vacek (7 p.m., Center Court). 
His practices attract hundreds of fans. They are lined up five and six deep, taking pictures, filming video, gazing through binoculars. They applaud when he arrives. They don't leave until he leaves. 
Peter Rafter watches all this with amazement. 
“I shake my head, but what can you do?” said Rafter's brother, who often travels with Patrick. 
Oh, I'm really sexy, mate,” Rafter says mockingly. “No, not at all. It's a funny thing. I consider myself an average-looking guy who seems to be successful in tennis.”
Peter has seen fans fall over trying to snap photos and knows of women sending pictures, phone numbers and letters to Patrick. 
Since 1997, when he was named People Magazine's Sexiest Athlete of the Year and won the first of his two U.S. Open titles, Rafter's quest for a simple life and desire to be “a regular guy” have been a challenge. 
That he is humble, polite and considerate only enhance his popularity. 
Rafter grew up one of nine children, wore his brothers' hand-me-downs and slept in a room with four or five siblings. He appreciates what has happened to him and has tried not to let success change him. 
Timothy Hebert, 5, of Dayton holds an oversized ball that Rafter signed for him.
“In the grand scheme of things, you've got to be a good person,” he said. “There's no substitute for that. 
“I don't take anything for granted. People go out of their way for you all the time, and they don't have to do that. I don't like to be spoiled. At the end of the day ... demanding things is not the way to go. It's a very selfish way. You see that a lot in sports. It just annoys the (crap) out of me.” 
He hangs around other players and family members who, he says, keep him “grounded.” His girlfriend of 20 months, Australian model Lara Feltham, often is referred to as “down to earth.” Rafter calls his parents his role models and credits them for his upbringing. 
When he returns home to Australia, his siblings have no trouble keeping him in line. 
“He has to do his share of the cleanup,” Peter said. “He doesn't get any special favors from us. I don't think he should. 
“He's changed a little bit. Maybe he's changed for the better. He's respected and looked up to by a lot of people, and I think he's become a very good role model. That's a positive thing. He still maintains his sanity. He still maintains being a regular guy.” 
And a generous guy. 
Rafter often won't publicize donations, because, well, that's not the point. But his contributions earned him the prestigious Arthur Ashe Humanitarian Award from the ATP Tour in 1998, one year after it went to Nelson Mandela (and two years after ATP Championship tournament chairman Paul Flory won it). 
Some examples of Rafter's handiwork: 
• The Patrick Rafter Cherish the Children Foundation, which supports charities helping homeless and drug-addicted children. 
• He donated $300,000 to a hospital for terminally ill children after winning the 1997 U.S. Open. 
• He donated $180,000 to a Brisbane hospital after winning last year's U.S. Open. 
Rafter has earned more than $8.4 million in his career but said: “I don't really need it all. I can offer a lot back to other people. You go to hospitals and you see people who are sick, and it's not a very nice thing to see. And you really count how lucky you are.” 
He said his most luxurious purchase has been a car for his mother. 
In October 1997, he returned $75,000 in appearance money after losing a first-round match in Lyon, France, saying, “I didn't do a good job, so why should I get paid for it.” 
Rafter was ranked No.62 at the end of the 1996 season and his career was at a crossroads. He was up to No.21 two years earlier but had fallen on hard times. His desire and dedication were questioned. 
By the end of '97, he was No.2 behind Pete Sampras and won two ATP Tour awards: Most Improved Player and the Edberg Sportsmanship Award. Last year he finished No.4. 
Does he think he receives enough media attention for his tennis? 
“Whatever makes them happy — they can do what they want with me. Anything seems quite positive.” 
Does he think he's sexy? 
“Oh, I'm really sexy, mate,” he said mockingly. “No, not at all. It's a funny thing. I consider myself an average-looking guy who seems to be successful in tennis.” 
Just before he became No.1 on July 26, Rafter was voted the Most Respected Person in Australia. 
“That's politicians, that's everything,” Peter said. “I was at home the week he took the No.1 ranking. There were billboards everywhere congratulating Pat. Large banners. Phones calls from media. Well-wishers. It was quite fantastic.” 
Rafter tries to take it all in stride. 
“Sometimes it'd be nice to sort of cruise around the tennis tour and not too many people worry about you,” Rafter said. “But you know what? The classic thing is you always want what you haven't got. And when you've got it, you don't want it. It's just one of those things. 
“I don't like to upset anyone or anything like that. But there are people out there who aren't going to be happy. That's a part of it, and you have to learn to deal with it.” 

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Working Out With Patrick Rafter  Sept 1998 by Andrea Leand 

THE PLAYER
Patrick Rafter, 25, catapulted to N° 2 after capturing his first Grand Slam title at the 1997 U.S Open. He was the first Australian to triumph since John Newcombe won in 1973. This summer Rafter was the first player in 10 years to win the du Maurier Open in Toronto without dropping a set. A week later, he beat Pete Sampras for the title at the Great American Insurance ATP Championship. And in September, he won his second U.S. Open in a row by beating fellow AustralianMark Philippoussis in four sets with only five unforced errors.
Rafter's seven-year career hasn't always been rosy, however. Injuries and slumps caused his ranking to plummet to N° 89 in 1996. He was able to turn the downward slide around, in part, with a different, and varied, conditioning routine.
THE WORKOUT
Rafter varies his three to four-hour sessions so that he "doesn't get bored with training." After a two-hour practice, he completes his off-court conditioning with a combination of either running, swimming, weights or calisthenics. For an hour a day he lifts light weights, alternating between upper and lower-body work and emphasizing the lower back and stomach. For another hour, Rafter races new trainer Mark "Muddy" Waters in a series of 20- to 30-yard sprints.Then he does four or five sets of kangaroo jumps (jumping while pulling his knees to his chest),jumps rope for 15 minutes, throws a medicine ball for 10 minutes and boxes with a speed bag (a small bag hanging from the ceiling) for 10 minutes.
If Rafter is injured or particularly fatigued, he swims instead of doing his regular workout. His pool time reduces the stress on his body but still provides cardiovascular exercise. He swims laps for 30 minutes and then sprints and jogs in the water for another 30 minutes. At the end of the day, Rafter sits down, crosses his legs and arms, closes his eyes and meditates for an hour. "But I don't chant," he says.
THE RATIONALE
Rafter admits that his disappointing results at the beginning of his year forced him to start working harder. "I wasn't working as much as in '97, and it showed, he says. My type of game takes a lot physically, so I needed to be in better shape. After playing for so many years, I need a routine that keeps me fresh. After practice, I want to get off court and train like I [played] as a kid, by swimming or running in the park. And I change it up all the time. I just make sure I do something six days a week, with one day off to give my body the chance to 
recover. Without the power or big weapons that a lot of guys have, my fitness is most important to my success."

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The New Net Rushers by Peter Bodo Tennis magazine online 1997

If you didn't know any better, you might think that the new generation of players that exploded onto the pro scene in 1997 had been carefully culled, groomed and brought before the public by a shrewd impresario, the kind of promoter who put together the New Kid on the Block or, more recently, the Spice Girls.
Consider the names: Patrick Rafter, Greg Rusedski, Jonas Bjorkman and Tim Henman. Are we touching a variety of ethnic bases here, or what? Then there is this matter of their respective images: Rafter is the front man and chick magnet; Henman the clean-cut boy from the 'burbs'; Rusedski is rugged and raw-boned; and Bjorkman is a cuddly, blue-eyed blond. If every pubescent kid between the ages of 10 and 40 has his favorite Spice Girl, surely every female tennis fan - or tennis nut of any gender - has his or her favorite Slice Boy?
We aren't merely throwing these four names and identities together as a pop tennis marketing ploy. These players, along with a few peers, including Richard Krajicek and Pete Sampras, have something powerful and important in common beyond the remarkable degree of success they enjoyed in 1997. Collectively, these four young men are at the leading edge of a generation that may redefine the way men's tennis at the highest level will be played for years to come. And while none of them plays quite the same way, each is playing a part in bringing the aggressive, net-rushing game - the spiciest, sliciest game of all - back into vogue.
Just a few short years ago, it seemed that the New Power Game - pioneered by peripatetic coach Nick Bollettieri and personified by such proteges of his as Jim Courier, Andre Agassi and Monica Seles - represented the better mousetrap of tennis strategy. In general, the New Power Game was built on the basic idea that powerful, flat or overspun ground strokes played in deadly, minimal combinations, and always from inside the baseline, could either render ineffective or eliminate the need for the traditional approach shots (particularly the sliced, underspun ones) and even the volley.
As it turned out, the chief proponents of this game have been unable to play it at the requisite high level over an extended period. Even Bollettieri, the mastermind of the genre, admits it: "As big as they [Courier, Agassi, et al.] hit the ball, it would have been much easier if they had learned to just come in now and then and block the ball back, to end points without working so hard. With the evolution in equipment and the rise in the level of player fitness, I don't believe it's possible to be so one-dimensional anymore."
At the same time, trends in ball speed, court surfaces and even the resurgence of the Australian tradition in tennis have led to a renaissance of Percentage Tennis. That name is misleading, because Percentage Tennis represents an adventurous philosophy first articulated in the early 1950s by the godfather of attacking tennis, Jack Kramer. The main premise of PT strategy is that, all other things being equal, good offense will always beat good defense, and that your chances of winning grow in direct proportion to your ability to get to the net and hit volleys. The rest is all a matter of whether or not the conditions, including your match-up, allow you to implement the game plan."As my career developed," recalls Kramer, a hall-of-fame player and architect of the original pro tour, "I realized that if I hit approach shots and second serves of a high enough quality, I could goad anybody I was playing into making errors. The passing shot off either wing is the most difficult shot in tennis, provided that the attacking player is putting sufficient pressure on his opponent. Of course, you need the right kind of ball and surface to do that. Grass is the ideal surface, but hard courts can also be very favorable. These days, with so many events on hard courts and indoor carpet, the conditions are pretty favorable for Percentage Tennis."
Kramer had a booming serve and a terrific forehand, but as his vision of the game matured, he all but abandoned the traditional cannonball (flat) serve. He estimates that at the peak of his career, he just about stopped hitting aces and applied slice to as many as 85 percent of his first serves. Furthermore, Kramer probably had the best second serve in the history of the game.
Among today's pros, Rafter is the most complete heir to the neglected tradition established by Kramer. The foundation of the Aussie's spectacular, unexpected and entirely legitimate triumph at the U.S. Open was Percentage Tennis, and two critical victories along the way, over Andre Agassi and Michael Chang, underscored it. Many pundits felt that because Rafter does not possess a huge serve, he would never overpower the superb returner, Agassi. They were proven right in that, but they did not expect that Rafter could outmaneuver Agassi in a classic demonstration of Percentage Tennis.
Critics also felt that Chang's wheels and passing shots would be too much for Rafter. Granted, Chang was tight in his semifinal with Rafter, but the relentless pressure Rafter applied had something to do with Chang's mood. On that day, good offense certainly beat good defense.
Remarking on Rafter's game a few days after the U.S. Open, Chang identified the extend to which Percentage Tennis is different from power tennis. "Pat has the capability to power in the big serve, but he doesn't seem to do that. He steps up to the service line expecting to have to hit a volley, which probably helps him to make some of those tough volleys he gets. A guy like [Mark] Philippoussis seems to have a different mentality. He goes for the winner on his serve. If it happens to come back, he tries to put away the volley. But Rafter is more in the [Stefan] Edberg mold. He isn't interested in hitting a lot of aces. He's interested in using his serve to set 
up his volley, and that's where he's dangerous. "
That's the difference between mere power tennis and Percentage Tennis. Rafter is a player with more purpose than power; Philippoussis has a superabundance of power, but no purpose. Consequently, his results have been erratic and often disappointing. Fred Stolle, a great practitioner of attacking tennis in his heyday, says: "At this point, Philippoussis still doesn't seem to know if he should rip the ball, slice it, come in or stay back. He's confused. It isn't that he doesn't have a philosophy that makes the best use of his power; it's more that he 
doesn't even have a philosophy."
The daredevil aspect of Percentage Tennis also may suggest that the style is ideally suited to the player who has more courage than brains - the player willing to make a feckless and fearless charge at the cannons. But the focus required to play successful Percentage Tennis is mentally draining, and the wear and tear created by the stops and starts, changes of direction, and incessant bending and lunging for low volleys can be debilitating. Rafter owed part of his success last year to some advice given to him in late 1996 by his Davis Cup captain, Tony Roche (no slouch at attacking tennis in his own salad days). "If you want to do consistently well as 
an attacking player," Roche said, "bring your fitness up one level higher than where you think it ought to be."

On top of that, the practitioner of Percentage Tennis lives at the mercy of critical variables in ball or surface speed, and he is always having to make adjustments for such things. For instance, the Davis Cup semifinal between the U.S. and Australia was contested in Washington, D.C., on an outdoor hard court somewhat slower than the one on which just two weeks earlier Rafter had won his U.S. Open title. Rafter was beaten by both Sampras and Chang in the Davis Cup tie. After Chang avenged his Flushing Meadows loss to Rafter, Stolle remarked, "At the U.S. Open, when Pat hit a good first volley, the court was quick enough to force Chang to choose between just two shots - the crosscourt or down-the-line pass. Here, Chang had enough time to make the topspin lob a third option. Also, when the court is slower and the first volley becomes a little tougher to make because of the quality of the return, the next volley isn't so routine."
Such nuances, combined with the high overall level of play today, demand that even the master service blasters - like Rusedski - grasp the rudiments of Percentage Tennis if they hope to be impact players. Possessing a formidable serve these days can be a mixed blessing, as players such as Philippoussis and Goran Ivasinevic keep proving. Initially, it looked as if Rusedski, who does not have the trademark light step of a natural net-rusher, might become a one-trick pony. But over the past two years, the lanky Rusedski has shown a great capacity for growth and improvement.
The Swede Bjorkman comes out of a slightly different mold. He is surprisingly quick and mobile. He lacks the huge serve of a Rusedski, and his own national tennis tradition, unlike Rafter's, is securely if not exclusively rooted at the baseline. But Bjorkman has an all-court game and a hearty appetite for creating openings that allow him to rush the net and end points. So far, his return of serve is more noteworthy than his serve. But if Bjorkman ever learns to use his serve with more authority, he will be an even more lethal player in the forecourt.
For a British player like Henman, success at Wimbledon is the supreme goal, and he already is comfortable playing the standard serve-and-volley tennis that can be so fruitful on grass courts.While Henman is a shade short of power and his serve sometimes lets him down in the crunch, he is a rangy, fleet, alert competitor. He is also enough of a natural athlete to emulate Rafter's commitment to attacking tennis, but he doesn't seem entirely ready to do that. He may be a bit short of the self-confidence that would enable him to make such an exclusive commitment - and to take so great a risk.
The other super net-rushers include 1996 Wimbledon champion Krajicek, semi-retired Boris Becker and Sampras. Despite the astonishing record Sampras has accumulated, many experts believe that he might be an even more effective player if he attacked more frequently. Even Sampras's coach, Paul Annacone (the quintessential chip-and-charge player of his own generation), believes that Sampras would be a more lethal, more well-rounded player if he made a conscious effort to attack more often.
Of course, changes of attitude always take time. But not much. This fall, 19-year-old Tommy Haas,a protege of Bollettieri, reached his first singles final in Lyon, France. Although he had wins over Thomas Enqvist and Yevgeny Kafelnikov, the key to Haas's breakthrough performance was a seemingly innocuous 6-2, 6-3 win over 20-year-old Spaniard Julian Alonso.
When Haas met with Bollettieri after the tournament, he told his coach that the key to his win over Alonso was the ability to come back from deficits in two key service games. Haas saved both games because he came in behind every serve while he was down break point.
"I've got to get in more often or the guys won't respect me," Haas said. "When I don't go to the net, the guy on the other side is breathing a sigh of relief, knowing that he doesn't have to worry." Bollettieri, ever the realist, immediately incorporated a greater amount of net play into Haas's daily regimen. And now, even his 8-year-old students are spending more time up at the net. All of a sudden, it seems that everybody wants to be a Slice Boy.

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