General: As two great champions prepare to retire, the world yawns (Part 1)

With the potential retirement of Lennox Lewis looming over the "Sport of King's," I've been struck by the fancy to compare two of the past decade's most dominant figures -- Lewis and Pete Sampras.

Both Lewis and Sampras have accomplished feats in their fields of endeavor that give them a rarefied air, and both men have people wondering about their proper place in sport's history.

However, neither Sampras nor Lewis seem to possess the automatic regard that others, with lesser accomplishments, have received.

What other three-time heavyweight champion could have his name questioned as to whether it belongs in boxing's pantheon?

When people think of the all time dominating tennis talents, certainly Sampras' name comes up, but not necessarily before a small list of others -- despite "Pistol Pete" owning the most grand slam singles titles in tennis history.

More significantly as Sampras' career winds down on the court, and Lewis weighs the decision to never again step in the ring, there seems to be minimal hue and cry. The question to ask is why? Why are two towering talents slipping off into the sunset, with nary a cry of protest from a snoring public?

Part of the answer lies in the men's demeanor. The passive, quiet, nature of both men has been well noted. So too has the idea that both men mask their extreme competitiveness and self-confidence behind a "just doing my job" workmanlike attitude (although it can be argued that since the Hasim Rahman loss, Lewis has become a more forcible, ego driven personality).

It is hard to argue with the idea that if Sampras was a crowd leasing "intense" showman that he would have more affection in the hearts of the media and the fans. Or, that Lewis' cerebral coolness has left a boxing community that adores grit and heart, cold (in much the same way Ken Dryden was never really accepted by the hockey world).

Lewis also has the added handicap of not being born in the United States. I don't believe for a second that if Lewis was to have been born in a tough neighborhood in Brooklyn (as opposed to Jamaica), raised in a middle class town in upstate New York (instead of Kitchener), and then enjoyed the good life in LA, that the overwhelmingly USA fuelled boxing world wouldn't have championed him. He might still be criticized for his laid back attitude and scientific fight style, but he would also get the benefit of being a great American athletic story.

Still, this acclaim would likely only make him even more similar to Sampras, respected for his accomplishments, but far from an athletic hero. Yes, those in the know speak about Sampras in glowing terms (and for every critic of Lewis' worst fights, someone has asked "why can't Pete win on clay?"), but he doesn't touch the "average Joe" in the way John McEnroe, or Jimmu Connors or even Andre Agassi does and still do.

We know that personality is hurting Sampras and Lewis, that's a given, but that's not all. Sampras and Lewis' place in history and in hearts has been far more affected by an item beyond their control -- rivals.

There is a simple rule for those who want to be a great hero -- have a great villain. Batman knew that, Superman's got it, Spiderman as well. This is where Sampras and Lewis, through no fault of their own, fall short, and in the case of Lewis, well short.

Looking at the stats, the Sampras era began in 1992 (though he did win one U.S. Open in 1990). During that time, Sampras collected 12 singles titles -- three U.S. Opens, seven Wimbledons and two Australian Opens.

During the same period, here were the other players with the most Grand Slam victories:

* Andre Agassi (7) * Gustavo Keurten (3) (all French) * Yvengi Kaflenikov (2) * Patrick Rafter (2) * Sergi Brugera (2) (all French)

On the surface of it, one would be tempted to say that Agassi is the man Sampras has pitted himself against, and in a way you'd be right. However, closer examination reveals that Agassi won four of those titles through 1999-2001 and two in 1994 and 1995. As was well publicized during that four year gap, Andre was more or less a part-time player due to several ailments and personal issues -- you remember the hair and Barbra Streisand don't you? In addition, Sampras won only two titles in the 1999-2001 years, both of them at Wimbledon. Agassi didn't win Wimbledon during that time -- so the notion that the two men pitted their skills against each other over and over is a romantic one.

Lets compare that to a slightly earlier era -- the 10-year period between 1982 and 1992.

Here are the major Grand Slam winners:

* Jim Courier (4) * Stefan Edberg (6) * Mats Willander (7) * Ivan Lendel (8) * Jimmy Connors (3 of a career 7) * John McEnroe (3 of a career 7) * Boris Becker (6)

It's easy to see why men's tennis enjoyed a competitive golden age. There were two old warhorses still with plenty of gas (McEnroe and Connors) and four talented Europeans (Lendel to become an American -- an important consideration), who were a threat to win on any surface. There was also the brief, but tantalizing, glimpse of Courier, who won his four Slams in three years before injuries and mental fatigue kept him from becoming a worthy foil for Sampras' early years.

Given the quality of his opposition, and the extreme specialization of tennis (look at the names of regular quarter finalists at the French and Wimbledon over the past decade -- how much cross-over do you think you'll see), Sampras never had the chance to engage in a series of gritty battles that would define a generation as we had in the years previous.

We realize Lendel, Becker, Edberg, Willander, McEnroe and Connors are great because of the great players they had to beat. We can see Courier's tantalizing potential because of the quality of play he had to exhibit to get those wins. For Sampras though, it's hard to see who defined him by consistently forcing Pete to bring his game to a higher level.

Agassi? Almost, but that gap in the middle and his ascendance during Sampras' sunset makes it a tough argument.

Courier? It could have been, though he fell apart too soon, and their style of games means that their best tennis was played on the opposite courts (Sampras -- 11 titles at Flushing Meadows and Wimbledon, Courier all four at Roland Garros or in Australia).

Rafter? A great talent, but injury hamstrung him.

Kalfenikov? Often brilliant but equally as often, unbalanced.

In the end though, it is the game's increasingly non-transferable skills from tourney to tourney that hurt Sampras. He could never win on clay, partially because a whole generation of players were now able to make their living playing almost exclusively on the surface. (Thomas Muester anyone?)

Just like many good players haven't a chance at Wimbledon because of the sheer power of Sampras, Goran Ivanisevic, Mark Phillipouses, and Greg Rudeski amplified by space age rackets made their serve and volley game unbeatable by any but other massive hitters.

So Sampras sits, a nice but somewhat boring champion, who lacked a great rival, a man who could help define him, and perhaps, give him the fire in the belly that would have made him the public's darling.

In Part 2 of this series, we will look at Lennox Lewis.