Open

I was late in discovering the magic of books. Of all my many mistakes that I want my children to avoid, I put that one near the top of the list.

friend J. R. Moehringer. It was J.R., before we even met, who first made me think seriously about putting my story on paper. During my final U.S. Open, in 2006, I spent all my free time reading J.R.’s staggering memoir, The Tender Bar.

The essence of good discipline is respect. Respect for authority and respect for others. Respect for self and respect for rules. It is an attitude that begins at home, Is reinforced at school, And is applied throughout life.

Transformation is change from one thing to another, but I started as nothing. I didn’t transform, I formed. When I broke into tennis, I was like most kids: I didn’t know who I was, and I rebelled at being told by older people. I think older people make this mistake all the time with younger people, treating them as finished products when in fact th

That’s the finish line I’ve been seeking, the finish line with the inexorable pull. Can’t play, as opposed to won’t play. Unwittingly, I’ve been seeking that moment when I’d have no choice.

The last three sets against Blake are the best tennis I’ve ever played, and the most draining. I tell myself to come out against Ginepri and manufacture adrenaline, pretend I’m down two sets, try to relocate that mindless state I found against Blake.

I’ve heard old-timers say that the fifth set has nothing to do with tennis. It’s true. The fifth set is about emotion and conditioning.

The net, which supposedly separates you, actually links you like a web. After two bruising hours you’re convinced that you’re locked in a cage with your opponent. You could swear that his sweat is spraying you, his breath is fogging your eyes. I’m up two sets to none, dominating. Malisse

From here until the finish line, Gil says, it’s all about your core.