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Read in English
Przejdź do polskiej wersji artykułu
I’m 21, and even though I feel more extroverted than when I was younger, it’s still pretty hard to be open sometimes. But I’ve learned that it’s even harder to hide your emotions.
Actually, my dad is a great example of this.
Not many people know that my dad is pretty sensitive. Even though he never shows any emotion about difficult matters, he cries very easily during movies — I think I get that from him.
This past year was really special, so I made a silly little video that I shared on Twitter, where I recreated the scene in The Lion King, where Mufasa shows Simba their kingdom. The voice actor for Mufasa in the Polish version, who is very famous in Poland, did the video with me. I just wanted to do something to celebrate. In the video, he says that line, “Simba, one day it will all be yours,” but with my name instead. When I showed my dad, he started crying.
I was really touched. I don’t think a lot of people would expect him to be so open with his emotions because of his generation, but that’s just how he is. I could see how much it meant to him to get to watch me succeed in tennis, and in life, and be by my side the whole way.
I didn’t know what to say. But at that moment, I don’t think either of us needed to say anything at all.
When I look back at everything I’ve been through, I appreciate even more what I’ve achieved. I think me and my dad can both spend a lot more time just being proud of ourselves. I don’t know yet if I want to be famous everywhere, if I want to be a global star, but I’m excited to keep going.
After winning the U.S. Open, for the first time I felt like I could actually live in that moment a little bit. The main thought I had was, Okay, I did something amazing. I proved that I can also win big titles on hard court. I felt really proud of myself, and I didn’t overanalyze it. I wasn’t thinking about the scale of what I was doing. I just played match by match.
Right now, starting this new season, I feel more confident because I already feel like I did something great. I already feel like in my country I make people proud, and I changed something. I want to keep using my voice to speak up about problems in Poland, like mental health. It’s still something unusual to go to therapy, and I hope to help change that.
And even though my dad’s not so active in my tennis career anymore, he’s still one of the most important reasons why I do this. I look back, and I see all his sacrifices, how he believed in me, and I’m grateful.
Earlier this year, I went on a little vacation to Austria to see a Formula 1 race with him and my sister, and while I was there it really hit me how rare these opportunities are. I realized how special life is, and I could finally just enjoy it.
For once in quite some time, I didn’t feel like I had any baggage on my shoulder.
I was just proud of myself.
For instance, I didn’t think I proved myself winning Roland Garros for the first time. I felt like it kind of happened by mistake, like I was in the right place at the right time, I played well, and it somehow happened. So going into the 2021 season, I felt like, Okay, now I have to prove myself. And it was mentally awful for me at first. I wanted to play the same way I did in Paris the year before, but the conditions were totally different. I hadn’t played a match in two months, and I wasn’t confident. I was also working with a big sponsor for the first time, and I felt this pressure, like if I didn’t achieve something, I’d be this huge disappointment. That was something I really had to work through.
Things turned around with the Australian Open, but then my biggest struggle happened that summer during the Tokyo Olympics. I cried on the court after I lost in straight sets, and I felt like people were judging me a little bit. Then, in Guadalajara, I was exhausted mentally and physically, and I didn’t really know what to do. I just felt helpless on the court, and I cried again. I was worried how people would see me. I was ashamed that I did that and thought it was not the way a champion should be.
I think in a way, that’s why hearing about Ash’s retirement brought up so many emotions in me.
There are these ideas that we have in ourselves as players that come from our parents and tennis and media and all this about how an athlete should be. But when I saw Ash, I was like, Wow, you can choose to do this differently. While you’re on this journey, striving for excellence, you can sometimes say, “Okay, that’s enough.” You’re in control, the whole way. No one else is driving the car.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly. I am sorry to curse, but if there is some secret to my success in the last year, it’s giving myself that freedom to not care what people think.
That’s what led me to winning another Grand Slam and the third one. That’s what led me to No. 1. Letting go.
When I have moments now where I feel a little bit insecure, that’s what I remind myself of.
Poland doesn’t have that “system” yet, per se. The conditions aren’t as great for the athletes, the money’s not there, truthfully. Sometimes growing up I had nowhere to play, so my dad always had to adjust. And it wasn’t easy for him to put all that money into hiring a coach, and having a court to practice on.
That part is the hardest to think back on and share openly, but I want to be honest.
When I think about my dad, I remember how it wasn’t so “smooth” all the time. I think he tried really hard to protect me from reality outside of tennis. He used to be an Olympic rower, and I think his main goal from the beginning, when he first noticed me and my sister’s talent for sports, was to kind of make us better athletes than he was. He basically dedicated his whole life to helping us do that. He never said it, but I could see it.
He’s not really open with his emotions. I would say that’s also a Polish thing, for people from that generation not to open up a lot. I mean, it’s not easy to talk about. Especially, I think, when you’re a dad. You want to be strong and not show your kids that you’re worried about something. But the emotions are still there. At that time money was tight, so it couldn’t have been easy for him, I don’t think. It’s not like we had a kind of emotional conversation like you see in the movies, but I knew how he felt. I also knew how much he believed in me.
I remember calling my dad when I found out that Ash was retiring.
It was March. We had an apartment in Miami for the Open because I had been staying in hotels for the first few months of the year. So I was in the apartment, and I think I was watching Parks and Recreation or something when my psychologist, Daria, came in and said Ash announced her retirement. I didn’t understand at first. I was like, What? How is that possible?? And then I started crying.
There was some confusion about what was going to happen because I had only been world No. 2 for three days. So I called my dad, and it was the middle of the night in Poland. I never call him, we always text on Messenger or WhatsApp, so he thought something bad was happening. But I think he was so sleepy that he wasn’t really processing. He didn’t get it. He was just like, Yeah, okay great.
But I was sobbing. I couldn’t stop crying. Honestly, it didn’t really have that much to do with potentially moving up in the ranking. It might sound strange, but I was so confused and shocked that Ash was 25, and she was retiring.
I always had this image in my mind that you retire when you’re 32, and your body can’t cope anymore. I also felt like Ash has the best tennis out there, hands down. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know if she was unhappy or something. But then I watched the video on Instagram, and I understood.
Right now, I understand it even more.
I remember when it finally clicked for me. I was 15. It was my first Junior Grand Slam, at Roland Garros actually. And the thing that really amazed me was, during the tournament, the whole city lives on tennis for two weeks. Everybody in Paris celebrates. And the quality they provided for the athletes was something I had never experienced before. Where I trained in Poland as a teenager, they didn’t even heat up the indoor venue in the winter before school. It would be like three degrees — inside.
Here, the venue was huge and really nice. Row after row of perfect red clay courts. It’s actually amazing to feel under your feet when you’re hitting the ball. When I started playing, I don’t know, it was like the ball just flew exactly where I wanted it to. It really struck me because I don’t get moments like that often. And it wasn’t just the venue and the atmosphere, but the feeling of being surrounded by all the big champions.… to see Nadal, Serena, and others at the venue, to be closer to them.… I left Paris thinking about how I just wanted to work harder and get better and better.
But I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m not from a country with a long tradition of playing tennis. I think if I were American, I would’ve believed in myself a lot more from a young age, because they have so many famous people that made it, and so many great examples to follow. (Also, Americans make a big fuss about it….. the “American dream” and all that). There’s a kind of system that has to be in place for that kind of consistency, if that makes sense. When I looked at how many people actually succeeded in tennis in Poland not so long ago, it was only Agnieszka Radwańska really, so I just didn’t think it’d be possible.
It’s funny, when we started working together at the end of 2021, my coach Tomasz said that the goal was to be #1 within a year. I was like, Yeah okay, sure. He’s always so motivating, but I felt like that was just movie coach talk, you know? Like Ted Lasso — ha ha. Many things have to happen to win a Slam, so I didn’t really feel like it was all in my hands.
You might imagine that I stayed up all night as a kid dreaming about being a big tennis player, but no. To tell you the truth, at night, I dreamed about feeling a bit more natural in social situations.
There was a time in my life when I was so introverted that speaking to people was a real challenge. Until I was 17 or 18, it was hard sometimes to look people in the eyes. I hated how hard it was for me. It felt really bad not being able to make connections. But with some people, my mind was just blank, and I didn’t know what to say. Small talk wasn’t natural to me.
My story isn’t like a lot of other athletes, and that’s okay.
Even on the court, I wasn’t that kind of kid who instantly fell in love with the racket. When I hear stories like that from other athletes, I think, Can a kid really feel it?? Because it wasn’t like that for me, not at six. I definitely liked playing a lot, but at the beginning, I didn’t dream of being a professional tennis player.
That was my dad’s dream then. He wanted his daughters to do sports, to be active and maybe someday become athletes. I remember when I was ten (and a little more extroverted), I’d want to stay after school and play football with the other kids rather than training tennis. My dad would come looking for me at school shouting, “Igaaaa, come here!!!”
There were many moments where I didn’t want to push myself at tennis, so he did. He was always there, believing in me. He taught me how to be a professional, and have discipline and regularity. It was something he gave me to use in sport and in life. It wasn’t that he was super tough. But he was strict about practices and healthy routines in a way that, when I look back on it, I’m grateful for. My dad was that voice in my head that was always leading me the right way.
Especially if you’re an introvert, like me, from a place where nobody would expect you to succeed in tennis. Well, at least didn’t expect it until now.
After Roland Garros, things had been pretty normal when I was in France. But when I got back to Poland? In Poland, it was really different.
My family was invited to an award ceremony at the presidential palace. This was three days after the finals. They were honoring me with a medal, and paparazzi followed us. I live outside of Warsaw, and surprisingly, they were waiting in front of my house with cameras.
So it’s me, my dad, and a security officer in the car, and my dad’s driving. And it feels like we’re going really fast, flying past all these blurry stores. My dad’s checking the mirrors and turning onto side streets. It looked like a scene in an American movie — ha ha. It sounds scary, but we were having fun and laughing the whole way into the city.
Even now, something like that feels weird to talk about — it’s usually not really Polish way to speak about your accomplishments, to be honest. But I think about that day a lot. In the moment, there was all this adrenaline.
Pure adrenaline — that’s the only way I can think to explain what it was like. Nothing could have prepared me for it. Winning my first Slam obviously changed everything for me, overnight. There are still many places in the world where for sure I’m not going to be recognized. If a random person looks at me, they’re not going to say, Oh, she’s an athlete, she plays tennis. But not in Poland. I’ve actually had some situations where people recognized me by my voice when I was ordering something to eat.
I’m grateful, but truthfully, sometimes it all feels strange and disorienting.
When I win, and I’m in that moment on court, or even just seeing a picture of me being on court, I feel so much emotion. But to be honest, as surreal as it is, I just don’t care very much about being on billboards or anything like that.
But it’s funny the way memories work, because when I think about winning Roland Garros that first time and driving into Warsaw three days later, I don’t really think about any of the craziness. Or the medal or the ceremony. Or even the chasing paparazzi. I mostly just remember my dad driving the car. I remember looking over at him, and seeing a big grin on his face.
He always believed. Even before I did. Which either makes him a really great dad or really crazy — ha ha.
Nothing can prepare you for winning your first Grand Slam.
Tim Clayton for the Players’ Tribune
I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m not from a country with a long tradition of playing tennis.
Iga Świątek
“
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly.
Iga Świątek
“
The Story of a Polish Introvert
Iga Świątek
by
Mój polski sen
PHOTOS BY sam robles/THE PLAYERS' TRIBUNE
Foto: Sam Robles/The Players' Tribune
Iga Świątek
Tennis
Jan. 12, 2023
Iga Świątek
The
Polish
Dream
Iga Świątek
by
PHOTOS BY SAM ROBLES/THE PLAYERS' TRIBUNE
polski sen
PHOTOS BY TAYLOR BAUCOM/THE PLAYERS' TRIBUNE
I’m 21, and even though I feel more extroverted than when I was younger, it’s still pretty hard to be open sometimes. But I’ve learned that it’s even harder to hide your emotions.
Actually, my dad is a great example of this.
You know something funny?
Even though he never shows any emotion about difficult matters, he cries very easily during movies.
This past year was really special, so I made a silly little video that I shared on Twitter, where I recreated the scene in the Lion King, where Mufasa shows Simba their kingdom. The voice actor for Mufasa in the Polish version, who is very famous in Poland, did the video with me. I just wanted to do something to celebrate. In the video, he says that line, “Simba, one day it will all be yours,” talking about tennis. When I showed my dad, he started crying.
I was like, What?? My dad can cry???
I didn’t know what to say. Don’t forget, we’re Polish. But at that moment, I don’t think either of us needed to say anything at all.
When I look back at everything I’ve been through, I appreciate even more what I’ve achieved. I think me and my dad can both spend a lot more time just being proud of ourselves.
After winning the U.S. Open, for the first time I felt like I could actually live in that moment a little bit. The main thought I had was, Okay, I did something amazing. I had this streak leading up to it, and I didn’t overanalyze it. I wasn’t thinking about the scale of what I was doing. I just played match by match.
Right now, starting this new season, I feel more confident because I already feel like I did something great. I already feel like in my country I make people proud, and I changed something.
And even though my dad’s not so active in my tennis career anymore, he’s still the reason why I do this. I look back, and I see all his sacrifices, how he believed in me, and I’m grateful.
Earlier this year, I went on a little vacation to Austria to see a Formula 1 race with him and my sister, and while I was there it really hit me how rare these opportunities are. I realized how special life is, and I could finally just enjoy it.
For once, I didn’t feel like I had any baggage on my shoulder. I was just proud of myself.
I feel every year, in a different way, how tough it is to be on tour. You have many obligations that you have to fulfill, and you have to learn how to balance that with the work you’re doing on court. You realize that your job is not simply to “put this ball in that square.” It gets a little bit more complicated the farther you go, and sometimes, a little bit less fun, truthfully. It’s hard to have that kid that you have in your head, or in your body, show up every time.
And there’s the expectations — having the feeling that you played so well and now you have to keep playing at that level, with no mistakes.
After I won Roland Garros again last year, I hoped I would be able to play without pressure. But in Toronto and Cincinnati, I realized how hard it is to be world number one when every player wants to beat you. They’re playing their best tennis against you.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I have to do everything exactly right all the time. Even in everyday life, I feel like I have to do each task until the end, and very well. Like when I clean up the house, I feel myself wasting all this energy, but I can’t stop because I have to do it perfectly. In practice, I usually leave feeling like I haven’t done enough. I have to force myself sometimes to feel proud of myself. I have to force myself to do that.
But on the other hand, I know that the quality of having to do everything right is the thing that led me to this point in life, so it can be hard to work on it. And it can get really destructive.
For instance, I didn’t think I proved myself winning Roland Garros. I felt like it kind of happened by mistake, like I was in the right place at the right time, I played well, and it somehow happened. So going into the 2021 season, I felt like, Okay, now I have to prove myself. And it was mentally awful for me at first. I wanted to play the same way I did in Paris the year before, but the conditions were totally different. I hadn’t played in two months, and I wasn’t confident. I was also working with a big sponsor for the first time, and I felt this pressure, like if I didn’t achieve something, I’d be this huge disappointment. That was something I really had to work through.
Things turned around with the Australian, but then my biggest struggle happened that summer during the Tokyo Olympics. I cried on the court after I lost in straight sets, and I felt like people were judging me a little bit. Then, in Guadalajara, I was exhausted mentally and physically, and I didn’t really know what to do. I just felt helpless on the court, and I cried again. I was worried how people would see me. I was ashamed that I did that and thought it was not the way a champion should be.
I think in a way, that’s why hearing about Ash’s retirement brought up so many emotions in me.
There are these ideas that we have in ourselves as players that come from our parents and tennis and media and all this about how an athlete should be. But when I saw Ash, I was like, Wow, you can choose to do this differently. While you’re on this journey, striving for excellence, you can sometimes say, “Okay, that’s enough.” You’re in control, the whole way. No one else is driving the car.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly. I am sorry to curse, but if there is some secret to my success in the last year, it’s giving myself that freedom to not care what people think.
That’s what led me to winning a Grand Slam. That’s what led me to No. 1. Letting go.
When I have moments now where I feel a little bit insecure, that’s what I remind myself of.
Poland doesn’t have that “system,” per se. The conditions aren’t as great for the athletes, the money’s not there, truthfully. Sometimes growing up I had nowhere to play, so my dad always had to adjust. And it wasn’t easy for him to put all that money into hiring a coach, and having a court to practice on.
That part is the hardest to think back on and share openly, but I want to be honest.
When I think about my dad, I remember how it wasn’t so “smooth” all the time. I think he tried really hard to protect me from reality outside of tennis. He used to be an Olympic rower, and I think his main goal from the beginning, when he first noticed me and my sister’s talent for sports, was to kind of make us better athletes than he was. He basically dedicated his whole life to helping us do that. He never said it, but I could see it.
He’s not really open with his emotions. I would say that’s also a Polish thing, for people from that generation not to open up a lot. I mean, it’s not easy to talk about. Especially, I think, when you’re a dad. You want to be strong and not show your kids that you’re worried about something. But the emotions are still there. At that time money was tight, so it couldn’t have been easy for him, I don’t think. It’s not like we had a kind of emotional conversation like you see in the movies, but I knew how he felt. I also knew how much he believed in me.
I remember calling my dad when I found out that Ash was retiring.
It was March. We had an apartment in Miami for the Open because I had been staying in hotels for the first few months of the year. So I was in the apartment, and I think I was watching Parks and Recreation or something when my psychologist, Daria, came in and said Ash announced her retirement. I didn’t understand at first. I was like, What? How is that possible?? And then I started crying.
There was some confusion about what was going to happen because I had only been world No. 2 for three days. So I called my dad, and it was the middle of the night in Poland. I never call him, we always text on Messenger or WhatsApp, so he thought something bad was happening. But I think he was so sleepy that he wasn’t really processing. He didn’t get it. He was just like, Yeah, okay great.
But I was sobbing. I couldn’t stop crying. Honestly, it didn’t really have that much to do with potentially moving up in the ranking. It might sound strange, but I was so confused and shocked that Ash was 25, and she was retiring.
I always had this image in my mind that you retire when you’re 32, and your body can’t cope anymore. I also felt like Ash has the best tennis out there, hands down. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know if she was unhappy or something. But then I watched the video on Instagram, and I understood.
Right now, I understand it even more.
I remember when it finally clicked for me. I was 15. It was my first Junior Grand Slam, at Roland Garros actually. And the thing that really amazed me was, during the tournament, the whole city lives on tennis for two weeks. Everybody in Paris celebrates. And the quality they provided for the athletes was something I had never experienced before. Where I trained in Poland, they didn’t even heat up the indoor venue in the winter before school. It would be like three degrees — inside.
Here, the venue was huge and really nice. Row after row of perfect red clay courts. It’s actually amazing to feel under your feet when you’re hitting the ball. When I started playing, I don’t know, it was like the ball just flew exactly where I wanted it to. It never happened that way before and never again, so I remember that moment. It really struck me because I don’t get moments like that often. That sparked a serious feeling in me. I made it to the quarters in singles and doubles that year and left Paris thinking about how I just wanted to work harder and get better and better.
But I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m Polish. I think if I were American, I would’ve believed in myself a lot more from a young age, because they have so many famous people that made it. (Also, Americans make a big fuss about it..... the “American dream” and all that). There’s a kind of system that has to be in place for that kind of consistency, if that makes sense. When I looked at how many people actually succeeded in tennis in Poland, it was only Radwańska really, so I just didn’t think it’d be possible.
It’s funny, when we started working together at the end of 2021, my coach Tomasz said that the goal was to be #1 within a year. I was like, Yeah okay, sure. He’s always so motivating, but I felt like that was just movie coach talk, you know? Like Ted Lasso— ha ha. Many things have to happen to win a Slam, so I didn’t really feel like it was all in my hands.
You might imagine that I stayed up all night as a kid dreaming about being a big tennis player, but no. To tell you the truth, at night, I dreamed about feeling a bit more natural in social situations.
There was a time in my life when I was so introverted I couldn’t talk to people. Until I was 17 or 18, I was scared to even look people in the eyes. I hated how hard it was for me. It felt really bad not being able to make connections. I tried, but I even had trouble with small talk. I don’t know if many teenagers have that growing up, but my mind was blank. I just didn’t know what to say. During the smallest interactions I’d think, Come on, Iga. You can do better than this.
My story isn’t like a lot of other athletes, and that’s okay.
Even on the court, I wasn’t that kind of kid who instantly fell in love with the racket. When I hear stories like that from other athletes, I think, Can a kid really feel it?? Because it wasn’t like that for me, not at six. I definitely liked playing a lot, but I didn’t dream of being a professional tennis player.
That was my dad’s dream. I remember when I was ten (and a little more extroverted), I’d want to stay after school and play football with the other kids rather than training tennis. My dad would come looking for me at school shouting, “Igaaaa, come here!!!”
There were many moments where I didn’t want to push myself at tennis, so he did. It wasn’t that he was super tough. But he was strict about practices in a way that, when I look back on it, I’m grateful for. My dad was that voice in my head that was always leading me the right way.
Especially if you’re an introvert, like me. Especially if you’re an introvert from Poland.
After Roland Garros, things had been pretty normal when I was in France. But when I got back to Poland? In Poland, it was really different.
My family was invited to an award ceremony at the presidential palace. This was three days after the finals. They were honoring me with a medal, and paparazzi followed us. I didn’t even know we had paparazzi in Poland. I live outside of Warsaw, and surprisingly, they were waiting in front of my house with cameras.
So it’s me, my dad, and a security officer in the car, and my dad’s driving. And it feels like we’re going really fast, flying past all these blurry stores. My dad’s checking the mirrors and turning onto side streets. It looked like a scene in an American movie — ha ha. It sounds scary, but we were having fun and laughing the whole way into the city.
Even now, something like that feels weird to talk about — it’s not really Polish culture to speak on your accomplishments in a flattering way, to be honest. But I think about that day a lot. In the moment, there was all this adrenaline.
Pure adrenaline — that’s the only way I can think to explain what it was like. Nothing could have prepared me for it. Winning my first Slam obviously changed everything for me, overnight. There are still many places in the world where for sure I’m not going to be recognized. If a random person looks at me, they’re not going to say, Oh, she’s an athlete, she plays tennis. But not in Poland. I’ve actually had some situations where people recognized me by my voice when I was ordering something to eat.
I’m grateful, but truthfully, sometimes it all feels strange and disorienting.
When I win, and I’m in that moment on court, or even just seeing a picture of me being on court, I feel so much emotion bubble up in me. But when I see my face on billboards, it’s like..... I’m looking at it, but I don’t feel anything. I don’t know. I still have a lot to process.
But it’s funny the way memories work, because when I think about winning Roland Garros that first time and driving into Warsaw three days later, I don’t really think about any of the craziness. Or the medal or the ceremony. Or even the chasing paparazzi. I just remember my dad driving the car. I remember looking over at him, and seeing a big grin on his face.
He always believed. Even before I did. Which either makes him a really great dad or really crazy — ha ha.
Nothing can prepare you for winning your first Grand Slam.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly.
Iga Świątek
Tim Clayton for the Players’ Tribune
“Yo! I need some f***ing help!”
“I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m Polish.”
Iga Świątek
Tennis
Iga Świątek
January 12, 2023
Read in English
Przejdź do polskiej wersji artykułu
I feel every year, in a different way, how tough it is to be on tour. You have many obligations that you have to fulfill, and you have to learn how to balance that with the work you’re doing on court. You realize that your job is not simply to “put this ball in that square.” It gets a little bit more complicated the farther you go, and sometimes, a little bit less fun, truthfully. It’s hard to have that kid that you have in your head, or in your body, show up every time.
And there’s the expectations — having the feeling that you played so well and now you have to keep playing at that level, with no mistakes.
After I won Roland Garros again last year, I hoped I would be able to play without pressure. But in Toronto and Cincinnati, I realized how hard it is to be world number one when every player wants to beat you. They’re playing their best tennis against you.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I have to do everything exactly right all the time. Even in everyday life, I feel like I have to do each task until the end, and very well. Like when I clean up the house, I feel myself wasting all this energy, but I can’t stop because I have to do it perfectly. In practice, I usually leave feeling like I haven’t done enough. I have to force myself sometimes to feel proud of myself. I have to force myself to do that.
But on the other hand, I know that the quality of having to do everything right is the thing that led me to this point in life, so it can be hard to work on it. And it can get really destructive.
I feel every year, in a different way, how tough it is to be on tour. You have many obligations that you have to fulfill, and you have to learn how to balance that with the work you’re doing on court. You realize that your job is not simply to “put this ball in that square.” It gets a little bit more complicated the farther you go, and sometimes, a little bit less fun, truthfully. It’s hard to have that kid that you have in your head, or in your body, show up every time.
And there’s the expectations — having the feeling that you played so well and now you have to keep playing at that level, with no mistakes.
After I won Roland Garros again last year, I hoped I would be able to play without pressure. But in Toronto and Cincinnati, I realized how hard it is to be world number one when every player wants to beat you. They’re playing their best tennis against you.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I have to do everything exactly right all the time. Even in everyday life, I feel like I have to do each task until the end, and very well. Like when I clean up the house, I feel myself wasting all this energy, but I can’t stop because I have to do it perfectly. In practice, I usually leave feeling like I haven’t done enough. I have to force myself sometimes to feel proud of myself. I have to force myself to do that.
But on the other hand, I know that the quality of having to do everything right is the thing that led me to this point in life, so it can be hard to work on it. And it can get really destructive.
For instance, I didn’t think I proved myself winning Roland Garros. I felt like it kind of happened by mistake, like I was in the right place at the right time, I played well, and it somehow happened. So going into the 2021 season, I felt like, Okay, now I have to prove myself. And it was mentally awful for me at first. I wanted to play the same way I did in Paris the year before, but the conditions were totally different. I hadn’t played in two months, and I wasn’t confident. I was also working with a big sponsor for the first time, and I felt this pressure, like if I didn’t achieve something, I’d be this huge disappointment. That was something I really had to work through.
Things turned around with the Australian, but then my biggest struggle happened that summer during the Tokyo Olympics. I cried on the court after I lost in straight sets, and I felt like people were judging me a little bit. Then, in Guadalajara, I was exhausted mentally and physically, and I didn’t really know what to do. I just felt helpless on the court, and I cried again. I was worried how people would see me. I was ashamed that I did that and thought it was not the way a champion should be.
I think in a way, that’s why hearing about Ash’s retirement brought up so many emotions in me.
There are these ideas that we have in ourselves as players that come from our parents and tennis and media and all this about how an athlete should be. But when I saw Ash, I was like, Wow, you can choose to do this differently. While you’re on this journey, striving for excellence, you can sometimes say, “Okay, that’s enough.” You’re in control, the whole way. No one else is driving the car.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly. I am sorry to curse, but if there is some secret to my success in the last year, it’s giving myself that freedom to not care what people think.
That’s what led me to winning a Grand Slam. That’s what led me to No. 1. Letting go.
When I have moments now where I feel a little bit insecure, that’s what I remind myself of.
Iga Świątek
Mam 21 lat i chociaż dzisiaj jestem z pewnością bardziej otwarta na świat, niż kiedy byłam młodsza, wciąż mam problemy z wyrażaniem emocji. Przez te lata nauczyłam się jednak, że ich ukrywanie jest tak naprawdę dużo trudniejsze.
Mój tata jest tego świetnym przykładem.
Niewiele osób wie, że tata jest w gruncie rzeczy bardzo wrażliwy. Chociaż w trudnych momentach, przez jakie razem przeszliśmy, nigdy nie okazywał przy mnie silnych emocji, to wiele razy przyłapałam go na tym, jak podczas oglądania filmów wzrusza się do łez. Myślę, że mam to po nim.
Ostatni rok był dla mnie wyjątkowy, więc żeby go uczcić, postanowiłam nagrać krótki film, który udostępniłam w social mediach. Odegrałam scenę z Króla Lwa, podczas której Mufasa pokazuje Simbie jego przyszłe królestwo. Towarzyszył mi bardzo znany aktor, który użyczał głosu Mufasie w polskiej wersji filmu [Wiktor Zborowski – przyp. red.]. Jedną z jego kwestii było: „Kiedyś, Iga, to wszystko będzie twoje”. Oczywiście chodziło o tenis, o królestwo tenisa. Kiedy pokazałam nagranie mojemu tacie, bardzo się wzruszył i uronił parę łez.
Głęboko mnie to poruszyło. Myślę, że po osobach z jego pokolenia niewielu spodziewa się tak otwartego okazywania emocji, ale on po prostu taki jest. Wiem, jak wiele dla niego znaczył mój sukces – zarówno sportowy, jak i życiowy – oraz fakt, że mógł mi w tej podróży towarzyszyć.
Kiedy zobaczyłam jego reakcję na ten filmik, zabrakło mi słów. Myślę jednak, że w tamtym momencie żadne z nas nie musiało nic mówić.
Dziś, kiedy myślę o wszystkim, przez co przeszłam, tym bardziej doceniam to, co udało mi się osiągnąć. Myślę, że zarówno ja, jak i tata moglibyśmy częściej po prostu być z siebie dumni. Nie wiem jeszcze, czy chciałabym być znana wszędzie, być bardzo popularną globalną postacią, ale na pewno cieszą mnie kolejne osiągnięcia, chcę dalej wygrywać i sięgać po tytuły.
Po zwycięstwie w US Open po raz pierwszy poczułam, że naprawdę mogę cieszyć się chwilą. Pomyślałam wtedy: „Wow, zrobiłam coś wspaniałego!”. Udowodniłam, że mogę wygrywać wielkie turnieje także na kortach twardych. Byłam z siebie bardzo dumna, ale nie rozkładałam tego sukcesu na czynniki pierwsze. Nie myślałam wcale o skali tego osiągnięcia – po prostu grałam mecz za meczem.
Teraz, na początku kolejnego sezonu, czuję się znacznie pewniej, bo wiem, że osiągnęłam już coś naprawdę wyjątkowego. Czuję, że ludzie w moim kraju są ze mnie dumni, że udało mi się coś zmienić. Chcę wykorzystać zainteresowanie moją osobą, żeby mówić w Polsce głośno o problemach, które są dla mnie ważne, na przykład o zdrowiu psychicznym. Tu ludzie wciąż dość rzadko podejmują psychoterapię, niektórzy uważają takie leczenie za coś dziwnego. Mam nadzieję, że uda mi się zmienić ich podejście.
Chociaż nie współpracuję już tak blisko z tatą, on wciąż motywuje mnie do działania i sprawia, że chce mi się walczyć. Kiedy myślę, ile dla mnie poświęcił i jak bardzo zawsze we mnie wierzył, jestem mu wdzięczna.
W ubiegłym roku wybraliśmy się z tatą i siostrą na krótkie wakacje do Austrii, żeby zobaczyć wyścig Formuły 1. Podczas tego wyjazdu zdałam sobie sprawę, jak rzadko mamy okazję razem coś robić; zrozumiałam, że życie jest piękne, a ja wreszcie mogę się nim cieszyć.
Wtedy po raz pierwszy od jakiegoś czasu udało mi się choć na chwilę zrzucić z barków ciężar, który zwykle dźwigam.
Po prostu byłam z siebie dumna.
Wydawało mi się, że zwyciężając pierwszy raz Roland Garros, nie dość dowiodłam swojego poziomu. Czułam, że udało mi się to jakby przez przypadek, że znalazłam się we właściwym miejscu o właściwym czasie i po prostu nieźle zagrałam. Na początku sezonu 2021 czułam wielką presję, bardzo chciałam udowodnić, że zasługuję na ten tytuł. To było wykańczające. Chciałam grać równie dobrze jak rok wcześniej w Paryżu, chociaż warunki były już zupełnie inne. Po dwumiesięcznej przerwie od rozgrywania meczów brakowało mi pewności siebie. Po raz pierwszy też reprezentowałam dużego sponsora, więc czułam na sobie ciężar oczekiwań – myślałam, że jeśli niczego nie osiągnę, będą mną rozczarowani. Musiałam to wszystko przepracować.
Karta odwróciła się podczas Australian Open, ale największym wyzwaniem i tak były dla mnie letnie Igrzyska Olimpijskie w Tokio. Przegrałam i płakałam na korcie, ciągle czułam się oceniana. Później, w Guadalajarze, byłam tak wykończona fizycznie i psychicznie, że nie do końca wiedziałam, co robię. Czułam się bezsilna i znów wybuchłam płaczem podczas meczu, tuż przed piłką meczową mojej przeciwniczki. Bałam się tego, co ludzie sobie o mnie pomyślą, i jednocześnie wstydziłam się tych uczuć, bo przecież mistrzyni nie powinna się tak zachowywać.
Myślę, że to dlatego informacja o tym, że Ash kończy karierę, wzbudziła we mnie tak wiele emocji.
Każdy z nas ma jakieś wyobrażenia o tym, jaki powinien być sportowiec – wpoili nam je rodzice i media, a także cały tenisowy świat. Dopiero Ash pokazała mi, że można pójść własną drogą. Dzięki niej pomyślałam: „Wow, a więc można inaczej!”. Teraz wiem, że nawet kiedy dążę do doskonałości, zawsze mogę powiedzieć sobie „Ok, wystarczy!”. To ja kontroluję sytuację – nikt inny nie przejmie sterów i nie powie mi, co mam robić.
Czasami najlepiej po prostu mieć na to wszystko wywalone, naprawdę. Myślę, że to właśnie był mój klucz do sukcesu w zeszłym roku — po prostu zupełnie nie przejmowałam się tym, co pomyślą inni.
To pozwoliło mi wygrać kolejne dwa Wielkie Szlemy i zostać numerem 1 w rankingu. Zupełne odpuszczenie sobie.
Przypominam sobie o tym zawsze, gdy mam gorszy moment albo czuję się niepewnie.
Każdy kolejny rok pokazuje mi, jak trudno żyje się w tenisowym tourze, 11 miesięcy w roku ciągle w drodze. Mam wiele obowiązków, musiałam nauczyć się, jak zachowywać równowagę między zobowiązaniami a tym, co dzieje się na korcie. Okazuje się, że praca tenisisty to znacznie więcej niż odbijanie piłki. Szczerze mówiąc, im wyżej jesteś, tym bardziej to wszystko jest skomplikowane i mniej w tym zabawy. Czasem trudno odnaleźć w sobie to wewnętrzne dziecko, które świetnie się bawiło podczas gry.
Muszę też mierzyć się z oczekiwaniami innych – wiem, że zagrałam świetnie, więc czuję, że muszę utrzymać ten poziom, że nie mogę sobie pozwolić na błędy.
Kiedy w zeszłym roku ponownie wygrałam Roland Garros, miałam nadzieję, że teraz już będę mogła grać bez presji, ale później – w Toronto i Cincinnati – zdałam sobie sprawę, jak trudno być numerem jeden w rankingu, bo każda tenisistka chce zająć twoje miejsce. Kiedy inne zawodniczki stają naprzeciw mnie na korcie, dają z siebie wszystko.
Zawsze żyłam w przeświadczeniu, że muszę robić wszystko dokładnie tak, jak trzeba. Nawet w codziennym życiu czułam, że muszę wywiązywać się ze wszystkich zadań i że wszystko ma być idealnie. Na przykład kiedy sprzątam dom, to angażuję się za bardzo, wkładam w to mnóstwo energii, ale nie potrafię odpuścić, dopóki wszystko nie jest idealnie czyste. Podczas treningów zazwyczaj czuję, że nie daję z siebie wystarczająco dużo. Czasami zmuszam się, aby być z siebie dumna.
Z drugiej strony wiem, że moje ciągłe dążenie do perfekcji zaprowadziło mnie do miejsca w życiu, w którym dziś jestem. To dlatego tak trudno mi z nim walczyć, mimo że wiem, jak szkodliwe jest takie myślenie.
W Polsce jeszcze nie ma odpowiedniego systemu, który wspierałby tenisistów. Szczerze mówiąc, życie sportowca nie jest łatwe, w sport nie inwestuje się zbyt wiele ani na nim nie zarabia, dopóki nie przyjdzie ten największy sukces. Kiedy byłam młodsza, czasem nie miałam gdzie trenować, a mój tata wiele poświęcił, żeby umożliwić mi rozwój. Czasami nie było mu łatwo, ale zdobywał pieniądze na opłacenie trenera czy wynajęcie kortu.
Do dziś trudno mi o tym myśleć, a co dopiero mówić tak otwarcie, ale chcę być szczera.
Kiedy myślę o moim tacie, to pamiętam, że nie zawsze wszystko szło jak z płatka. Myślę, że ze wszystkich sił starał się ochronić mnie przed brutalną rzeczywistością poza światem tenisa. Sam był kiedyś wioślarzem, brał udział w Igrzyskach Olimpijskich, więc kiedy tylko dostrzegł, że ja i moja siostra zdradzamy predyspozycje do sportu, obiecał sobie, że będziemy w tym lepsze niż on. Właściwie całe swoje życie poświęcił na wspieranie nas w rozwoju. Nigdy o tym głośno nie mówił, ale ja widziałam, że tak było.
Tata nie okazuje otwarcie emocji. W Polsce czasem tak mamy – wiele osób, szczególnie z jego pokolenia, nie potrafi się otworzyć. Mówienie o uczuciach przychodzi im z trudem, zwłaszcza ojcom, ale te emocje w nich tkwią. Myślę, że było mu ciężko, kiedy brakowało nam pieniędzy. Nigdy nie rozmawialiśmy ze sobą tak otwarcie, jak robią to bohaterowie filmów, nie dzieliliśmy się swoimi emocjami, ale wiem, jak się wtedy czuł, i wiem, jak bardzo przez cały ten czas we mnie wierzył.
Pamiętam, jak zadzwoniłam do taty, kiedy dowiedziałam się, że Ash [Ashleigh Barty – przyp. red.] kończy karierę.
To był marzec. Na czas Miami Open wynajęliśmy mieszkanie w Miami, bo wcześniej w tym roku kilka miesięcy spędziłam w hotelach. Siedziałam w mieszkaniu i coś oglądałam, chyba "Parks and Recreation," kiedy moja psycholożka, Daria, przekazała mi, że Ash ogłosiła zakończenie kariery. Na początku to do mnie nie docierało. Zastanawiałam się, jak to możliwe. Dlaczego? Później się rozpłakałam.
Powstało wokół tego małe zamieszanie, bo wówczas dopiero od 3 dni zajmowałam drugie miejsce w światowym rankingu. Zadzwoniłam do taty – w Polsce był środek nocy, a ja zazwyczaj do niego nie dzwonię, tylko piszę na Messengerze albo WhatsAppie. Mógł pomyśleć, że coś się stało, ale chyba był tak zaspany, że nie docierał do niego sens moich słów. Po prostu mnie nie rozumiał. Powtarzał tylko: „Tak, tak, to super”.
Ja cały czas szlochałam. Nie mogłam przestać płakać. To, czy zajmę wyższe miejsce w rankingu, nie zależało wtedy ode mnie. Dziwnie to zabrzmi, ale byłam w głębokim szoku i nie rozumiałam, jak to możliwe, że Ash wycofuje się z gry w wieku zaledwie 25 lat.
Zawsze myślałam, że karierę kończy się dopiero, kiedy ma się 32 lata i ciało nie jest już tak sprawne jak kiedyś. W tamtym momencie uważałam Ash za bezapelacyjnie najlepszą tenisistkę na świecie. Nie mogłam zrozumieć jej decyzji, zastanawiałam się, czy jest nieszczęśliwa, czy może coś się stało. Dopiero kiedy zobaczyłam jej film na Instagramie, zrozumiałam, co ją skłoniło do odejścia.
Teraz rozumiem ją jeszcze lepiej.
Pamiętam, jak wreszcie to zrozumiałam. Miałam wtedy 15 lat i po raz pierwszy grałam w wielkoszlemowym turnieju juniorów – to było podczas Rolanda Garrosa. Pamiętam, że byłam zdumiona, jak na czas turnieju zmienia się miasto, a ludzie przez 2 tygodnie żyją tenisem. W Paryżu wszyscy świętują. Francuzi stworzyli też świetne warunki dla sportowców. Kiedy jako nastolatka trenowałam w Polsce – zazwyczaj rano, przed szkołą – nikt nie zawracał sobie głowy ogrzewaniem krytych kortów. Czasami treningi odbywały się przy trzech stopniach na plusie wewnątrz hali.
We Francji obiekty były przestronne i naprawdę na poziomie. Rzędy idealnie równych clay kortów. Wspaniale było czuć tę nawierzchnię pod stopami podczas gry. Piłka leciała dokładnie tam, gdzie ją kierowałam. Byłam zachwycona, a zdarza mi się to naprawdę rzadko. Nie chodziło zresztą wyłącznie o korty i atmosferę, ale też o to, jak wyjątkowo się czułam, kiedy otaczali mnie mistrzowie – niesamowicie było widzieć Nadala czy Serenę, być blisko nich… Kiedy wyjeżdżałam wtedy z Paryża, myślałam tylko o tym, że chcę pracować jeszcze ciężej, żeby być coraz lepszą.
Mimo to nigdy nie sądziłam, że kiedykolwiek uda mi się wygrać turniej wielkoszlemowy i zostać pierwszą rakietą świata, bo pochodzę z kraju, w którym tenis nie był zbyt popularny, a na pewno nie ma długiej tradycji. Myślę, że gdybym była Amerykanką, już jako dziecko bardziej bym w siebie wierzyła – w Stanach wielu tenisistom udało się odnieść sukces, ich dokonania mogą być inspiracją dla młodych zawodników. No i Amerykanie robią wokół sukcesów sportowych sporo szumu, nazywają je amerykańskim snem… Żeby ludziom się w tym sporcie udawało, ich sukces musi być częścią jakiegoś systemu – rozumiesz, co mam na myśli? Kiedy zaś myślę o niedawnych sukcesach polskiego tenisa, do głowy przychodzi mi tylko Agnieszka Radwańska – dlatego nigdy nie sądziłam, że mi się uda.
To zabawne, bo gdy w 2021 roku zaczęłam współpracę z moim trenerem, Tomaszem [Wiktorowskim – przyp. red.], on powiedział mi, że naszym celem jest zajęcie pierwszego miejsca w rankingu w przeciągu roku. Pomyślałam sobie wtedy „Tak, jasne, na pewno…”. On nieustannie mnie motywował, a ja czułam się, jakbym słuchała jakichś coachingowych gadek, wiesz? Jak w serialu "Ted Lasso" – haha. Wiele rzeczy musi się wydarzyć, żeby zawodnik wygrał turniej wielkoszlemowy, a ja wtedy naprawdę nie czułam, że mogę zwyciężyć, że to wszystko zależy tylko ode mnie.
Niektórzy pewnie myślą, że jako dziecko marzyłam, że zostanę znaną tenisistką, ale tak nie było. Prawdę mówiąc, skrycie pragnęłam tylko nieco lepiej radzić sobie w sytuacjach towarzyskich, czuć się swobodniej wśród ludzi.
Przez pewien czas mój introwertyzm sprawiał, że rozmawianie z niektórymi ludźmi było dla mnie naprawdę trudne. Do 17 lub 18 roku życia nawet patrzenie moim rozmówcom w oczy czasami stanowiło dla mnie wyzwanie. Okropnie się z tym czułam. Było mi źle z tym, jak trudno mi nawiązywać z ludźmi relacje. W towarzystwie niektórych miałam zupełną pustkę w głowie, nie wiedziałam, co powiedzieć. Nie potrafiłam tak po prostu do kogoś podejść i do niego zagadać, a zwłaszcza prowadzić tzw. small talki.
Z pewnością wielu sportowców nie musiało przez to przechodzić. Moja historia jest inna, ale to jest ok.
Nie było też tak, że jako dziecko od razu zakochałam się w tenisie. Kiedy słyszę takie historie od innych sportowców, zawsze zastanawiam się: „Czy dziecko naprawdę może się tak czuć i od razu wiedzieć, co chce robić w życiu?”. Ja się tak nie czułam, a już na pewno nie wtedy, gdy miałam 6 lat. Oczywiście bardzo lubiłam grać, ale na początku nie sądziłam, że kiedyś zostanę zawodową tenisistką.
Wtedy to było marzenie mojego taty. Chciał, żeby jego córki były aktywne i zajęły się sportem – pewnego dnia być może nawet zawodowo. Pamiętam, że kiedy miałam 10 lat i byłam jeszcze nieco bardziej otwarta na ludzi, po lekcjach chciałam grać z innymi dzieciakami w piłkę nożną, a nie jeździć na treningi tenisa. Tata chodził wtedy po szkole, szukał mnie i krzyczał: „Igaaaa, chodź tutaj!”.
Wiele razy było tak, że wcale nie chciałam dawać z siebie wszystkiego na korcie, ale wtedy on starał się wzbudzić we mnie motywację i impuls do działania. Zawsze był obok i zawsze we mnie wierzył. To on nauczył mnie profesjonalizmu, wpoił mi dyscyplinę, przyzwyczaił do regularności. Z tego, czego się od niego nauczyłam, korzystam teraz na korcie, ale i w życiu. Nie był dla mnie przesadnie surowy. Był wymagający w kwestii treningów i zdrowego stylu życia – dziś jestem mu za to wdzięczna. Tata był tym głosem w mojej głowie, który zawsze prowadził mnie we właściwym kierunku.
zwłaszcza jeśli ktoś – jak ja – jest introwertykiem i pochodzi z kraju, w którym nikt nie spodziewa się po zawodnikach takich sukcesów w tenisie. A przynajmniej do tej pory nikt się ich nie spodziewał…
Tuż po zwycięstwie w Rolandzie Garrosie, kiedy jeszcze byłam we Francji, moje życie wciąż wydawało się normalne, ale kiedy wróciłam do Polski, okazało się, że wszystko się zmieniło.
Trzy dni po finale w Pałacu Prezydenckim zorganizowano uroczystość, podczas której Prezydent wręczył mi medal, zaproszono naszą rodzinę. W drodze na miejsce śledzili nas paparazzi. Nie mieszkam w Warszawie, więc byłam zaskoczona, gdy zobaczyłam, że czekają na mnie pod domem.
Na uroczystość jechaliśmy we trójkę – ja, mój tata i ochroniarz. Tata prowadził samochód. Wydawało mi się, że jedziemy bardzo szybko, obraz za oknem się rozmazywał, gdy mijaliśmy kolejne budynki. Tata spoglądał w lusterko i skręcał w boczne ulice. Czułam się jak w amerykańskim filmie, haha. Brzmi to trochę przerażająco, ale w gruncie rzeczy to była niezła zabawa – śmialiśmy się przez całą drogę.
Nawet dziś czuję się dziwnie, gdy o tym opowiadam. Szczerze mówiąc, w Polsce w sumie rzadko chwalimy się swoimi osiągnięciami. Mimo to często wracam myślami do tamtego dnia – sądzę, że napędzała mnie adrenalina.
Czysta adrenalina – tylko tak mogę opisać to, co wtedy czułam. Na takie coś nie da się w żaden sposób przygotować. Po pierwszym zwycięstwie w Wielkim Szlemie wszystko zmieniło się niemal z dnia na dzień. W wielu miejscach na świecie wciąż nie jestem rozpoznawalna. Tam, kiedy przypadkowy człowiek spotka mnie na ulicy, to nie powie: „O, to ta znana tenisistka”. W Polsce jest inaczej. Tu zdarzało się nawet, że ktoś rozpoznał mnie po głosie, gdy zamawiałam jedzenie.
Jestem za to wdzięczna, chociaż przyznam, że czasem mi z tym dziwnie – bywa, że czuję się zakłopotana.
W momencie, gdy jestem na korcie i wygrywam, albo gdy później oglądam swoje zdjęcia z takich chwil, przepełniają mnie emocje. Chociaż może zabrzmi to dziwnie, to nie zależy mi zbytnio na tym, żeby moja twarz znalazła się na billboardach ani na niczym takim. Kiedy widzę gdzieś reklamę ze swoim wizerunkiem, to jest to nieco abstrakcyjne, ale w gruncie rzeczy jestem na to obojętna. Nie budzi to we mnie żadnych większych emocji.
Pamięć działa w przedziwny sposób. Kiedy myślę o tym, jak po raz pierwszy wygrałam Roland Garros, a trzy dni później jechaliśmy do Warszawy na spotkanie z prezydentem, nie myślę wcale o całym szaleństwie, które temu towarzyszyło. Ani o medalu, ani o uroczystości. Nie wspominam nawet, jak ścigali nas paparazzi. Pamiętam tylko, jak tata prowadził samochód – kiedy na niego spojrzałam, miał na twarzy szeroki uśmiech.
On zawsze wierzył. Wierzył, zanim ja sama uwierzyłam. Nie wiem, czy to świadczy o tym, że jest naprawdę wspaniałym ojcem, czy że jest po prostu szalony – haha.
Nie da się w żaden sposób przygotować do pierwszego zwycięstwa w Wielkim Szlemie,
Tim Clayton for the Players’ Tribune
Nigdy nie sądziłam, że kiedykolwiek uda mi się wygrać turniej wielkoszlemowy i zostać pierwszą rakietą świata, bo pochodzę z kraju, w którym tenis nie był zbyt popularny, a na pewno nie ma długiej tradycji.
Iga Świątek
“
Czasami najlepiej po prostu mieć na to wszystko wywalone, naprawdę.
Iga Świątek
“
Tennis
Jan. 12, 2023
Iga Świątek
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I’m 21, and even though I feel more extroverted than when I was younger, it’s still pretty hard to be open sometimes. But I’ve learned that it’s even harder to hide your emotions.
Actually, my dad is a great example of this.
Not many people know that my dad is pretty sensitive. Even though he never shows any emotion about difficult matters, he cries very easily during movies — I think I get that from him.
This past year was really special, so I made a silly little video that I shared on Twitter, where I recreated the scene in The Lion King, where Mufasa shows Simba their kingdom. The voice actor for Mufasa in the Polish version, who is very famous in Poland, did the video with me. I just wanted to do something to celebrate. In the video, he says that line, “Simba, one day it will all be yours,” but with my name instead. When I showed my dad, he started crying. When I showed my dad, he started crying.
I was really touched. I don’t think a lot of people would expect him to be so open with his emotions because of his generation, but that’s just how he is. I could see how much it meant to him to get to watch me succeed in tennis, and in life, and be by my side the whole way.
I didn’t know what to say. But at that moment, I don’t think either of us needed to say anything at all.
When I look back at everything I’ve been through, I appreciate even more what I’ve achieved. I think me and my dad can both spend a lot more time just being proud of ourselves. I don’t know yet if I want to be famous everywhere, if I want to be a global star, but I’m excited to keep going.
After winning the U.S. Open, for the first time I felt like I could actually live in that moment a little bit. The main thought I had was, Okay, I did something amazing. I proved that I can also win big titles on hard court. I felt really proud of myself, and I didn’t overanalyze it. I wasn’t thinking about the scale of what I was doing. I just played match by match.
Right now, starting this new season, I feel more confident because I already feel like I did something great. I already feel like in my country I make people proud, and I changed something. I want to keep using my voice to speak up about problems in Poland, like mental health. It’s still something unusual to go to therapy, and I hope to help change that.
And even though my dad’s not so active in my tennis career anymore, he’s still one of the most important reasons why I do this. I look back, and I see all his sacrifices, how he believed in me, and I’m grateful.
Earlier this year, I went on a little vacation to Austria to see a Formula 1 race with him and my sister, and while I was there it really hit me how rare these opportunities are. I realized how special life is, and I could finally just enjoy it.
For once in quite some time, I didn’t feel like I had any baggage on my shoulder.
I was just proud of myself.
For instance, I didn’t think I proved myself winning Roland Garros for the first time. I felt like it kind of happened by mistake, like I was in the right place at the right time, I played well, and it somehow happened. So going into the 2021 season, I felt like, Okay, now I have to prove myself. And it was mentally awful for me at first. I wanted to play the same way I did in Paris the year before, but the conditions were totally different. I hadn’t played a match in two months, and I wasn’t confident. I was also working with a big sponsor for the first time, and I felt this pressure, like if I didn’t achieve something, I’d be this huge disappointment. That was something I really had to work through.
Things turned around with the Australian Open, but then my biggest struggle happened that summer during the Tokyo Olympics. I cried on the court after I lost in straight sets, and I felt like people were judging me a little bit. Then, in Guadalajara, I was exhausted mentally and physically, and I didn’t really know what to do. I just felt helpless on the court, and I cried again. I was worried how people would see me. I was ashamed that I did that and thought it was not the way a champion should be.
I think in a way, that’s why hearing about Ash’s retirement brought up so many emotions in me.
There are these ideas that we have in ourselves as players that come from our parents and tennis and media and all this about how an athlete should be. But when I saw Ash, I was like, Wow, you can choose to do this differently. While you’re on this journey, striving for excellence, you can sometimes say, “Okay, that’s enough.” You’re in control, the whole way. No one else is driving the car.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly. I am sorry to curse, but if there is some secret to my success in the last year, it’s giving myself that freedom to not care what people think.
That’s what led me to winning another Grand Slam and the third one. That’s what led me to No. 1. Letting go.
When I have moments now where I feel a little bit insecure, that’s what I remind myself of.
I feel every year, in a different way, how tough it is to be on tour. You have many obligations that you have to fulfill, and you have to learn how to balance that with the work you’re doing on court. You realize that your job is not simply to “put this ball in that square.” It gets a little bit more complicated the farther you go, and sometimes, a little bit less fun, truthfully. It’s hard to have that kid that you have in your head, or in your body, show up every time.
And there’s the expectations — having the feeling that you played so well and now you have to keep playing at that level, with no mistakes.
After I won Roland Garros again last year, I hoped I would be able to play without pressure. But in Toronto and Cincinnati, I realized how hard it is to be world number one when every player wants to beat you. They’re playing their best tennis against you.
I’ve always struggled with feeling like I have to do everything exactly right all the time. Even in everyday life, I feel like I have to do each task until the end, and very well. Like when I clean up the house, I feel myself wasting all this energy, but I can’t stop because I have to do it perfectly. In practice, I usually leave feeling like I haven’t done enough. I have to force myself sometimes to feel proud of myself. I have to force myself to do that.
But on the other hand, I know that the quality of having to do everything right is the thing that led me to this point in life, so it can be hard to work on it. And it can get really destructive.
Poland doesn’t have that “system” yet, per se. The conditions aren’t as great for the athletes, the money’s not there, truthfully. Sometimes growing up I had nowhere to play, so my dad always had to adjust. And it wasn’t easy for him to put all that money into hiring a coach, and having a court to practice on.
That part is the hardest to think back on and share openly, but I want to be honest.
When I think about my dad, I remember how it wasn’t so “smooth” all the time. I think he tried really hard to protect me from reality outside of tennis. He used to be an Olympic rower, and I think his main goal from the beginning, when he first noticed me and my sister’s talent for sports, was to kind of make us better athletes than he was. He basically dedicated his whole life to helping us do that. He never said it, but I could see it.
He’s not really open with his emotions. I would say that’s also a Polish thing, for people from that generation not to open up a lot. I mean, it’s not easy to talk about. Especially, I think, when you’re a dad. You want to be strong and not show your kids that you’re worried about something. But the emotions are still there. At that time money was tight, so it couldn’t have been easy for him, I don’t think. It’s not like we had a kind of emotional conversation like you see in the movies, but I knew how he felt. I also knew how much he believed in me.
I remember calling my dad when I found out that Ash was retiring.
It was March. We had an apartment in Miami for the Open because I had been staying in hotels for the first few months of the year. So I was in the apartment, and I think I was watching Parks and Recreation or something when my psychologist, Daria, came in and said Ash announced her retirement. I didn’t understand at first. I was like, What? How is that possible?? And then I started crying.
There was some confusion about what was going to happen because I had only been world No. 2 for three days. So I called my dad, and it was the middle of the night in Poland. I never call him, we always text on Messenger or WhatsApp, so he thought something bad was happening. But I think he was so sleepy that he wasn’t really processing. He didn’t get it. He was just like, Yeah, okay great.
But I was sobbing. I couldn’t stop crying. Honestly, it didn’t really have that much to do with potentially moving up in the ranking. It might sound strange, but I was so confused and shocked that Ash was 25, and she was retiring.
I always had this image in my mind that you retire when you’re 32, and your body can’t cope anymore. I also felt like Ash has the best tennis out there, hands down. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I didn’t know if she was unhappy or something. But then I watched the video on Instagram, and I understood.
Right now, I understand it even more.
I remember when it finally clicked for me. I was 15. It was my first Junior Grand Slam, at Roland Garros actually. And the thing that really amazed me was, during the tournament, the whole city lives on tennis for two weeks. Everybody in Paris celebrates. And the quality they provided for the athletes was something I had never experienced before. Where I trained in Poland as a teenager, they didn’t even heat up the indoor venue in the winter before school. It would be like three degrees — inside.
Here, the venue was huge and really nice. Row after row of perfect red clay courts. It’s actually amazing to feel under your feet when you’re hitting the ball. When I started playing, I don’t know, it was like the ball just flew exactly where I wanted it to. It really struck me because I don’t get moments like that often. And it wasn’t just the venue and the atmosphere, but the feeling of being surrounded by all the big champions.… to see Nadal, Serena, and others at the venue, to be closer to them.… I left Paris thinking about how I just wanted to work harder and get better and better.
But I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m not from a country with a long tradition of playing tennis. I think if I were American, I would’ve believed in myself a lot more from a young age, because they have so many famous people that made it, and so many great examples to follow. (Also, Americans make a big fuss about it….. the “American dream” and all that). There’s a kind of system that has to be in place for that kind of consistency, if that makes sense. When I looked at how many people actually succeeded in tennis in Poland not so long ago, it was only Agnieszka Radwańska really, so I just didn’t think it’d be possible.
It’s funny, when we started working together at the end of 2021, my coach Tomasz said that the goal was to be #1 within a year. I was like, Yeah okay, sure. He’s always so motivating, but I felt like that was just movie coach talk, you know? Like Ted Lasso — ha ha. Many things have to happen to win a Slam, so I didn’t really feel like it was all in my hands.
You might imagine that I stayed up all night as a kid dreaming about being a big tennis player, but no. To tell you the truth, at night, I dreamed about feeling a bit more natural in social situations.
There was a time in my life when I was so introverted that speaking to people was a real challenge. Until I was 17 or 18, it was hard sometimes to look people in the eyes. I hated how hard it was for me. It felt really bad not being able to make connections. But with some people, my mind was just blank, and I didn’t know what to say. Small talk wasn’t natural to me.
My story isn’t like a lot of other athletes, and that’s okay.
Even on the court, I wasn’t that kind of kid who instantly fell in love with the racket. When I hear stories like that from other athletes, I think, Can a kid really feel it?? Because it wasn’t like that for me, not at six. I definitely liked playing a lot, but at the beginning, I didn’t dream of being a professional tennis player.
That was my dad’s dream then. He wanted his daughters to do sports, to be active and maybe someday become athletes. I remember when I was ten (and a little more extroverted), I’d want to stay after school and play football with the other kids rather than training tennis. My dad would come looking for me at school shouting, “Igaaaa, come here!!!”
There were many moments where I didn’t want to push myself at tennis, so he did. He was always there, believing in me. He taught me how to be a professional, and have discipline and regularity. It was something he gave me to use in sport and in life. It wasn’t that he was super tough. But he was strict about practices and healthy routines in a way that, when I look back on it, I’m grateful for. My dad was that voice in my head that was always leading me the right way.
Nothing can prepare you for winning your first Grand Slam. Especially if you’re an introvert, like me, from a place where nobody would expect you to succeed in tennis. Well, at least didn’t expect it until now.
After Roland Garros, things had been pretty normal when I was in France. But when I got back to Poland? In Poland, it was really different.
My family was invited to an award ceremony at the presidential palace. This was three days after the finals. They were honoring me with a medal, and paparazzi followed us. I live outside of Warsaw, and surprisingly, they were waiting in front of my house with cameras.
So it’s me, my dad, and a security officer in the car, and my dad’s driving. And it feels like we’re going really fast, flying past all these blurry stores. My dad’s checking the mirrors and turning onto side streets. It looked like a scene in an American movie — ha ha. It sounds scary, but we were having fun and laughing the whole way into the city.
Even now, something like that feels weird to talk about — it’s usually not really Polish way to speak about your accomplishments, to be honest. But I think about that day a lot. In the moment, there was all this adrenaline.
Pure adrenaline — that’s the only way I can think to explain what it was like. Nothing could have prepared me for it. Winning my first Slam obviously changed everything for me, overnight. There are still many places in the world where for sure I’m not going to be recognized. If a random person looks at me, they’re not going to say, Oh, she’s an athlete, she plays tennis. But not in Poland. I’ve actually had some situations where people recognized me by my voice when I was ordering something to eat.
I’m grateful, but truthfully, sometimes it all feels strange and disorienting.
When I win, and I’m in that moment on court, or even just seeing a picture of me being on court, I feel so much emotion. But to be honest, as surreal as it is, I just don’t care very much about being on billboards or anything like that.
But it’s funny the way memories work, because when I think about winning Roland Garros that first time and driving into Warsaw three days later, I don’t really think about any of the craziness. Or the medal or the ceremony. Or even the chasing paparazzi. I mostly just remember my dad driving the car. I remember looking over at him, and seeing a big grin on his face.
He always believed. Even before I did. Which either makes him a really great dad or really crazy — ha ha.
Nothing can prepare you for winning your first Grand Slam.
And sometimes the best solution is not giving a sh*t, honestly.
Iga Świątek
Tim Clayton for the Players’ Tribune
“Yo! I need some f***ing help!”
“I never really believed that it actually was going to be possible for me to win a Grand Slam or be world number one, because I’m not from a country with a long tradition of playing tennis. ”
Iga Świątek
Tennis
Iga Świątek
January 12, 2023
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