The Cramp That Won the French Open

What the language of two finalists revealed about pressure and performance

In the fourth set of this year’s Roland Garros final, Alexander Zverev started cramping. A TV commentator suggested it was nerves expressing themselves through the body. Zverev received medication, was handed a time violation, and the match tilted briefly towards Flavio Cobolli, who took the set on a tiebreak to level it at two sets all.

Then something unusual happened. Zverev won the fifth set 6-1.

In his press conference afterwards, he was asked about the cramping:

“I actually think that the cramp helped me in a way,” he said. “I let go. I kind of hit my shots a bit more and just let go.”

I think that is one of the more revealing things a player has said after winning a Grand Slam.

The cramp, which should have been a disadvantage, forced Zverev to stop forcing the Outcome. His body was failing him, so he stopped trying to control everything and simply played.

From immediately after his semi-final win, Zverev had been trying to keep the result in the background. The fact that he had to keep returning to that idea made me feel this was a discipline he was practising, rather than a mindset that came naturally.

Yet, as the finish line came into view, it looked to me as though the title, the ranking points, the history and the consequences of losing were all creeping their way back into his thinking.

He did not choose to let go; the cramp did it for him, but the effect was the same. His Attention Direction moved away from the uncontrollable, the scoreline, the title and the history, and settled on the one thing that was actually within reach: the next ball.

That is Identify Your Outcome and Manage Your State working together, even if they arrived through a side door.

The 6-1 fifth set score was not the result of Zverev suddenly becoming a better tennis player. It was the result of Zverev suddenly becoming a less encumbered one.

Now look at Cobolli, and specifically at two things he said before the match.

On Zverev:

“He’s my reference.”

On himself, during his quarter-final toilet break:

“You’re here. You deserve it. Let’s try.”

“Reference” and “deserve” are the two words that, for me, help explain the fifth set.

When Cobolli says Zverev is his reference, he is telling you where his calibration point sits. His measure of how he is doing in the match is Zverev: how am I doing relative to him?

That is External Reference, and it is an unstable foundation for a Grand Slam final. Every time he wins a point, the reference updates. Every time he loses one, the reference updates again. He is constantly measuring himself against someone else’s standard rather than his own.

The “deserve” word is worth thinking about too. It came from his own internal self-talk, genuine, unscripted, which is why it matters. “You’re here. You deserve it.”

On the surface that reads as confidence. But deserving is a legitimacy question, and legitimacy questions have answers that need confirming. Every mistake in the final reopens the question. Do I deserve to be here? The scoreboard becomes the judge.

Cobolli played well enough to win a set and push Zverev to a fourth-set tiebreak. He was competitive. But when the fifth set began, with Zverev now physically compromised and mentally liberated, Cobolli had no equivalent release.

He was still inside the legitimacy frame, still measuring, still checking, still asking whether the scoreboard was confirming what he hoped about himself.

It’s my view that the fifth set exposes the difference between these mindsets.

There is something worth noting about Cobolli’s speech after the match, because it was genuinely gracious and it was also, without him meaning it to be, a precise description of the frame of mind he had been playing inside his head all afternoon.

“If someone had asked me who deserved this title more, I would always have said you,” he told Zverev. “Now that you’ve achieved your dream, let me win the next time.”

Deserved. Dream. These are not the words of someone who was thinking about performance. They are the words of someone who was thinking about meaning, about whether the occasion was going to confirm something important about himself and the person across the net.

That is not a criticism of Cobolli. It is a description of where his attention was, and attention directed at meaning rather than execution is attention spent somewhere it cannot actually change anything.

Zverev, for his part, had said after the semi-final:

“This victory doesn’t mean much yet. We have a match on Sunday to play, and that’s why we’re here. I want to play the best match possible and simply concentrate on that.”

And:

“I try to completely empty my head and not think about anything.”

The contrast in those two sets of quotes is the match in miniature. One player trying to drain the meaning out of the occasion so he can play tennis. The other player carrying the meaning into it, and measuring himself against it throughout.

After Zverev won, he said:

“Now, no matter what happens, I will always be a Grand Slam champion, and nobody can take that away from me.”

The interesting thing about that quote is when he could not have said it, which was at any point before the fifth set was over. The meaning was locked behind the result, which is exactly where it needed to be. He did not play the final to confirm something about himself. He played it to win a tennis match. The confirmation came after.

Cobolli played the final to confirm something about himself. The confirmation never quite came, because confirmation via scoreboard is External Reference, and External Reference requires winning a Grand Slam to deliver it. He came very close. He will have other chances. But the mindset he had for the final made the task harder than it needed to be.

What Zverev worked out, whether deliberately or because a cramp forced it on him, is the same thing that every player at the top of this fortnight’s Mental Strength Leaderboard worked out in their own way: that the outcome is the wrong thing to hold your attention on, because it’s outside of your control.

The only thing you can control is the next shot. That is where the match is won.


How does your mindset hold up under pressure? Take the IDQ Snapshot: https://7skills.co.uk/idq-snapshot

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