Wimbledon quarter-finals day, 1993, saw two great matches, one of which is definitely not remembered enough, the classic Teutonic feud between Boris Becker and Michael Stich. They'd faced off in the final two years before and that day, Becker capitulated in a manner which modern day fans might associate occasionally with Nole. He simply didn't mentally arrive to play, putting up more battle with his own inner demons than with his foe, clearly put out that a fellow German dared steal the limelight from him in his own backyard, as he himself claimed it to be.
In 1993 we saw a different Becker, a switch around reminiscent of Sugar Ray Leonard going back to his swaggering roots to defy Roberto Duran in the rematch. In four hours of riveting assault, Stich was unable to break the Becker spirit - and serve. Boris came back from 2-1 down in sets to prevail in five. 7-5, 6-7, 6-7, 6-2, 6-4. It was a incredible match by both men, but more particularly by Becker, whose discipline held, and whose nerve held.
That match was preceded by another grudge match, Sampras against defending champ Agassi, who'd labelled Pete an ape a couple weeks before in Paris. With Barbra Streisand rattling her jewels loudly in the players box, Agassi came back from two sets down to haul it into a fifth, but Pete remained cool and if memory serves, finished it off with four aces.
With Edberg and Becker in the semis for the fifth time in six years, we kinda expected them to face each other again in the final, but Pete tore Becker down in straights and defeated fellow American Jim Courier in the final...
uzzled
