Hall of Fame Rewind: Our conversation with Esther Vergeer, who ended her career on a 470-match win streak

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There are streaks, and then there are streaks. Wheelchair champion Esther Vergeer of the Netherlands retired in 2013 on an almost incomprehensible run of 470-straight match victories, dating back to January 2003. The magnitude of the feat is difficult to fathom, but this comment from Roger Federer, offered up in his foreword to Vergeer’s autobiography Fierce & Vulnerable (Arko Sports Media, written with Eddy Veerman), says a lot: “We both dominated tennis for years. Esther even longer and more definitive[ly] than I did.”

In addition to her success on the tour, Vergeer also won gold in four consecutive Paralympic Games, among other accomplishments. Like many wheelchair players, her pursuit of the sport began in rehab, in her case at age 8, after a third surgery to address what she describes as “a blood vessel anomaly around the spine,” left her without sensation in her lower legs.

The below is from an earlier interview with Vergeer—who on Saturday was elected to the International Tennis Hall of Fame. Alongside quad division pioneer Rick Daley, Vergeer will be inducted this summer in Newport, R.i.

What do you think is the biggest misperception about wheelchair tennis?

When people see it for the first time, they are pleasantly surprised that we hit the ball hard, maybe not 200 miles per hour, but harder than most able-bodied people. They are also impressed by our maneuverability—that we move fast and well.

What are the biggest changes you’ve observed in the world of wheelchair tennis since you first began playing?

A lot has happened in the 20 years since I was first on the tour. The two main things are that we are integrated in a lot of clubs at the local level and also in huge tournaments like the Grand Slams. In the beginning, people saw wheelchair tennis as a side event, a way for companies and tournaments to say, “Look how corporate-responsible we are.” Now, they see it as added value for the tournament. That’s a big step.

A lot of tournaments want to keep it. And I think the media attention has increased. Some countries are better than others, but there’s a lot more media attention to disability sports than there used to be. The London Paralympic Games were the first disabled sports to be televised live. That was very big, as was the fact that the coverage wasn’t just talking about the human-interest stories, but about the actual sport.

What do you see as the next evolution that will, or should, happen in wheelchair tennis?

I think there needs to be still more integration and media attention. And the athletes need to become more professional, to show that they’ve earned the attention and integration by living as athletes. I hear wheelchair players say, “The prize money isn’t enough. I can’t live off it. I can’t make my whole life about tennis, where if you are an able-bodied athlete you win millions and it’s easier to make it a full-time job.” I think that’s bulls---. Even if you don’t make the same money, you can live as an athlete. If you say, “I want to be No. 1 in the world,” if you really want that, you can live as an athlete, and you should.

There’s a line in your book: “The ultimate goal is not to become No. 1 in the world, but to become the best person. Sport can play a big part in that.”

It’s true. Being No. 1 for a couple of years, I realized that it’s not about the No. 1 spot or about beating my opponents. In every little thing, I saw opportunities to improve myself, to make my body able to do more. It wasn’t based on results or rankings, but if I could still see improvement in myself. I got a kick when that would happen.

I hear you’ve had some nice moments with some top ATP and WTA players over the years.

Yes. It means a lot. Years ago, I met Roger Federer for the first time at one of the champions’ dinners at Roland Garros. We started talking. He was curious about my life and my sport. Back then, it wasn’t integrated into the Grand Slams as it is now, so he couldn’t really see it. Serena and Venus Williams would often come watch the American players. Roger has become one of my heroes, not only because he’s a great tennis player but also because of the person that he is toward fans and the media and his social responsibility. He wrote the foreword to my book, and I’m in contact with him sometimes to ask for advice. He respects me as an athlete and sees similarities in our careers, which makes me very proud. It’s the biggest compliment you can ever get.

I hear wheelchair players say, “The prize money isn’t enough. I can’t live off it. I can’t make my whole life about tennis, where if you are an able-bodied athlete you win millions and it’s easier to make it a full-time job.” I think that’s bulls---. Esther Vergeer

If I try to imagine what it was like to live your win streak, I would guess that you went through several stages, or phases, of coping with it.

That’s accurate. Of course, when you start a streak you don’t realize it’s going to be a streak. You just keep winning and then all of a sudden you’re at 100, and you think, “Wow,” and then you’re motivated to go to 150, to go to 200. But then the streak made it so that people expect more from you. They expect you to win, to win a gold medal, where before they didn’t expect anything. So, first it was motivating me, then it was scaring me. It was working against me. I was afraid of losing the streak and failing.

Would you feel that way during matches?

Yes, every shot I hit, I was scared of losing.

It was almost like you were defending a title every match.

Yes, which I didn’t want to think, but that’s what happens. The fact that you are not able to win anymore and only lose is not a good feeling. I didn’t enjoy matches anymore.

Were you able to push through that?

It didn’t stay with me, thank God. But I had to fight and work for that feeling. Some of the people around me said, “You must lose on purpose and then you’ll lose that feeling.” But that’s not the athlete’s heart. I had to cope with the feeling and the pressure.

Is there one win that you were most proud of?

There’s one match that will stand out for me forever, which was the Paralympic medal match in Beijing. I had a winning streak for five years, and hadn’t lost a match in that time, but I was rivaling with Korie Homan. I had never lost to her, but she was getting closer every time we played. I knew the final would be her against me.

In the match, I was up a set and 4–2. But then all of a sudden she started to play better, won the second set, and was up 5–3 in the third. Then she had a match point. I hadn’t had a match point against me in a long time. You can’t train for that. The only thing I worried about was to get the serve in and hopefully to her backhand. I did, and won that point, then the match. I didn’t win by playing well. I won by keeping my cool. Turning that match around by refocusing and winning in a third-set tiebreaker was one of my most exciting matches ever.

In your autobiography, you describe what seems like tremendous peace with the decision to retire. Do you miss tennis?

Not at all. I think I had been thinking of retiring even before the 2012 Paralympic Games, but making the decision and saying it out loud are two different things. It’s scary. You’re leaving an environment that’s so secure. It took me a while to make the decision, but once I said it out loud, it was a relief to not have to deal with the pressure. I think I’ve only hit five times in the year and a half since I retired.

At first, I couldn’t enjoy the fact of being on the court with no goal, and I was worse than ever because I don’t train anymore. But now I realize that being outside and having fun with friends is also cool, so that number will go up.