I think when Kevin Nash put himself on the booking committee and then gave me my first loss, that was beginning of the end.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I won twenty-eight games in thirty-five and I couldn't believe my eyes when the Cards sent me a contract with a cut in salary. Mr Rickey said I deserved a cut because I didn't win thirty games.
It wasn't my tennis that made me lose, it was a lot of different things going on, high drama, high emotion.
I went through so many things personally, emotionally and mentally during that time off that I know that I'm better for it now and I think I'm a better athlete because of that.
The loss just made me hungry; it made me want to go out and win another title.
I am enthralled until the last ball Djokovic hits, and the moment it is over and he is on his knees eating grass, I sink into my chair, cannot believe I have spent another fleeting fortnight of the few summers I have left caring about the outcome of contests I will have forgotten in the blink of an eye, and begin to question my sanity.
Team sports, there's always some kind of sacrifice happening... A team, if we lose, if Michael Jordan has a bad night, you hang it on him a little bit... but if you lose as a tennis player, you have no one to blame but yourself, and that's a different beast.
My junior year, I was in a play at school and five days before opening night, I still didn't know my lines. Opening night was a disaster. I was so embarrassed. The director made me work backstage for the rest of the performance.
In my case what happened next in 1999 was that I fell apart over that back nine. When I saw I was in genuine contention that year I felt like throwing up. That remains probably the most nervous I've ever been on a golf course.
Sparky Lyle threw me a slider, and it wound up in the seats. We won, and it was a memorable moment.
I always felt before Paul Brown, coaches just rolled the ball out onto the field.