Chang, who built a career on perseverance, bows out

Published : Sep 20, 2003 00:00 IST

He prayed with Andre Agassi. He took Pete Sampras fishing. He scrambled Ivan Lendl's mind. He shocked John McEnroe. This is the way Michael Chang will be remembered: for his impact on other players as well as for stretching himself.

GEORGE VECSEY

He prayed with Andre Agassi. He took Pete Sampras fishing. He scrambled Ivan Lendl's mind. He shocked John McEnroe. This is the way Michael Chang will be remembered: for his impact on other players as well as for stretching himself.

He enjoyed the highlight of his tennis career 14 years ago, when his kielbasa legs, extending from a linguine frame, cramped so badly that he was tempted to quit against Ivan Lendl at the French Open.

Instead, he beat Lendl and later won the Open. Lendl, on whatever golf course he finds himself today, probably still cannot fathom what happened to him on the red clay in Paris, but it made Michael Chang a symbol of "perseverance,'' his word for himself in the last match of his career.

Chang retired in characteristic style. Having made a farewell tour the past year, he lost the first two sets to Fernando Gonzalez of Chile, which was nothing new for him. The first two sets have always been basically warm-ups for Michael Chang. He has sent thousands of people directly from the tennis stands to the masseuse to get their bodies untangled.

"You know,'' said his father, Joe Chang, the patriarch in the ultra-wholesome Chang family, "he still holds the record for a match at the Open — Edberg in the '92 semifinal, 5:26.''

In the third set on that Tuesday, Chang hit a behind-the-back backhand on the run, which, even though he eventually lost the point, caused him to smile at his rare burst of flash. He won the third set.

Gonzalez had to know that you never want to play a fifth set against Michael Chang, whose record, now complete, was 23-15 in five-set matches. But Chang did not have enough left, losing in four sets, 6-3, 7-5, 5-7, 6-4. And afterward he allowed himself a wave from midcourt, as the fans cheered and said goodbye.

He was a singular player, an Asian-American in a white sport, a Christian whose witness and demeanour never wavered, a 5-foot-9-inch, 160-pound player who choked up on his racket like a leadoff hitter in baseball.

Ultimately, the players got even bigger than their rackets, and Chang, at 31, was totally outgunned. His total of Grand Slams stayed stuck on one, whereas his old California juniors opponent, Sampras, won 14 before playing his last match last September.

They came along together, and the world heard about Chang first. When Chang was 16, Franz Lidz of Sports Illustrated went fishing with the Chang family, who "brought along Michael's sometimes doubles partner, Pete Sampras, a Palos Verdes, California, teenager who wouldn't know a reel from a kuzatski,'' Lidz wrote, not being at all facetious.

When young Sampras became antsy about trying to put a worm on the hook, Chang counselled him: "You need patience. It takes patience to crack the top 10 and patience to catch a fish. Patience, Pete, patience.''

Patience was something Michael Chang always had. His father, a chemist who turned to coaching, then managed the family investments, credits his wife, Betty, whose own father was a diplomat for Taiwan.

"She told him what to say,'' Joe Chang said. "`If you win, you say this, and if you lose, you say that.''

The signature match of Chang's career took place in Paris in 1989 in the round of 16 against Lendl, who was dominating the world. Chang cramped in the fifth set, and thought about quitting, but instead tossed off a few underhanded serves, just to buy time.

He prayed with Andre Agassi. He took Pete Sampras fishing. He scrambled Ivan Lendl's mind. He shocked John McEnroe. This is the way Michael Chang will be remembered: for his impact on other players as well as for stretching himself.

"Something inside me said, `No, don't do that," he said recently. "`You've got to fight. You've got to play the rest of this match whether you win or lose."

He also lobbed a few moonballs into the stratosphere, and Lendl responded with his own rainmakers. It wasn't that Lendl lacked a killer instinct. Who will forget his fricative response after drilling an opponent in the chest after an exchange of volleys: "I did not invite him to the net.''

Rather, it was a case of Lendl's seeming to not know what to do with a guy wandering around the court like a balloon with the air coming out of it. When Chang planted himself on the baseline to return Lendl's formidable serve, Lendl double-faulted once and foot-faulted once and also snarled "shut up'' at fans who were either rooting for Chang or imploring him to quit.

"Somebody pulled the plug out of the computer,'' Tony Pickard, who was Edberg's coach for many years, said.

Chang has never gloated over that match. He recently told John Roberts of The Independent of England: "Ivan is a very great champion. I don't think you can train somebody how to figure out how to play somebody when he's hurt or cramping.''

After that five-set victory, Chang also beat Ronald Agenor, Andrei Chesnokov and Stefan Edberg to win his first major, and, as it turned out, his only major.

"I think the French Open, in many ways, brought out a certain characteristic in me and in my game that was already there,'' Chang said. "Just the circumstances allowed for it to be able to show.''

The French Open also blew McEnroe's frazzled mind. Just before Wimbledon in 1989, McEnroe fumed that Chang should never have left high school, and he added, "If Michael Chang wins this tournament, I'll drop my pants in Center Court.''

Nobody ever had to pay off a bet against Chang's winning a Grand Slam tournament. Coached by his older brother Carl, with his mother often in the stands, he went the next 14 seasons without a major championship. Now he is going home.

Home to Michael Chang is like some American saga. He was born in Hoboken, New Jersey, and moved to St. Paul, Minnesota, for his father's career, then to the San Diego area so Carl and Michael could play tennis 12 months a year. Later Michael moved to Henderson, Nevada, for the fishing, and now to Mercer Island, Washington.

He has some plans to teach tennis in China. His father says it is time for grandchildren, but first there must be a wife. This whole improbable tennis adventure has been a family deal, and will probably continue to be.

New York Times News Service

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