It Doesn't Have To Glitter To Be

If I Don't Ask "why Me?" After My Victories, I Cannot Ask "why Me?" After My Setbacks And Disasters.

I Have Tried To Keep On With My Striving Because This Is The Only Hope I Have Of Ever Achieving Anything Worthwhile And Lasting.

You Really Are Never Playing An Opponent. You Are Playing Yourself.

There Were Times When I Asked Myself Whether I Was Being Principled Or Simply A Coward.... I Was Wrapped In The Cocoon Of Tennis Early In Life, Mainly By Blacks Like My Most Powerful Mentor, Dr. Robert Walter Johnson Of Lynchburg, Virginia. They Insisted That I Be Unfailingly Polite On The Court, Unfalteringly Calm And Detached, So That Whites Could Never Accuse Me Of Meanness. I Learned Well. I Look At Photographs Of The Skinny, Frail, Little Black Boy That I Was In The Early 1950s, And I See That I Was My Tennis Racquet And My Tennis Racquet Was Me. It Was My Rod And My Staff.

In America You're Conditioned To Regard Everything As A Contest. You Have To Make The Ten Best Dressed List, Win This, Win That. It Drives Me Nuts Sometimes. Who Cares, For Christ's Sake?