Clearly a bad scouting day for me.īut now 12 months on and up walks Roger & Peter all dressed in their red and white (Swiss) tracksuits. I was impressed, but not mind-blown impressed. I knew Roger because my best mate, Peter Carter - who was based in Basel coaching and playing club tennis for TC Old Boys - had introduced me to Roger 12 months earlier and asked me to watch him practice. There was another 15-year-old competing and representing Switzerland. ![]() Two years later when Lleyton was 15, I took him and two other Australian juniors to Switzerland to compete in the Junior Davis Cup, a prestigious event where all the best juniors came to represent their home nations. The first thing she said to me was, “What do you think of that kid?” With every winner that came from little Hewitt’s racquet you could hear that now trademark war cry of, “C’monnnn” at least five streets away.Īfter the practice I walked back into my house and my wife, who was my girlfriend at the time, had been watching and smiling. And instead of allowing me to come to net on my terms, he dragged me in on junk balls and then proceeded to backhand topspin lob me to death. He started to serve to my forehand, which I hated. He stood in on my serve and took it early. Like a velociraptor, he had started to work me out and probe for weaknesses. His dad, who had stuck around to watch, went to offer a little advice to his charge, and Lleyton stopped him in his tracks and said “Zip it Glynny boy, I’ve got this”. Quiz: Lleyton Hewitt's Hall Of Fame Career ![]() The first two sets went by without drama as a kick serve from a 188cm former pro was proving a little difficult for the talking garden gnome to handle. Time to teach this little mongrel a bit of a lesson. That work had been done by one of SA’s best coaches, Peter Smith.Īfter 15 minutes I asked Lleyton what he’d like to do, and he replied “Let’s play sets”. Even his net game was solid and considerable work had been done to give him a strong foundation. We warmed up and I was amazed at his beautiful technique from the ground. As it turned out, that was a slight miscalculation on my part. But playing a 12-year-old kid was no problem. I was 28 years old and had just retired from the tour because of knee issues. Already at this point, I was amused, intrigued and intimidated all at the same time. To be honest, it wasn’t really a reply but more like a demand. “Hi, I’m Lleyton, are we going to play?” was the reply with a firm handshake. “G’day mate, I’m Darren,” I said as I held out a hand. Dressed in Agassi Nike clothing from head to toe, cap on backwards, zinc across his snozza, and carrying a Prince racquet bag over his shoulders full of frames. I knew of his parents Glynn (AFL football) and Cherilyn (Netball), but it was a first meeting, and it left a lasting impression that has stayed entrenched through the years. My doorbell rang and I was expecting him. A young, skinny blond upstart who came from an elite sporting family was causing quite the stir with his level of play and unique desire to win that not everyone was completely fond of. It had started bouncing around tennis circles like a boom-boom Boris Becker serve. ![]() It was the early '90s in Adelaide, Australia. It doesn’t happen often and to be perfectly honest, most of the time it is an educated guess when predicting the future of an athlete.
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