Justice & Law Quote by Richard Krajicek

Krajicek’s line reads like a throwaway compliment, but it’s doing quiet political work in the tennis conversation about surfaces, legitimacy, and legacy. Grass is the sport’s most mythologized stage: Wimbledon gloss, serve-and-volley romance, the idea that “real” tennis used to be faster, cleaner, more gentlemanly. By naming McEnroe, Borg, and Edberg, Krajicek isn’t just listing heroes. He’s anchoring grass-court excellence to a particular lineage of artistry and attacking instinct, the kind of tennis that looks bold because it’s unforgiving.

The intent is partly defensive, too. Krajicek’s own career peak is inseparable from grass and Wimbledon; he’s one of the rare men to beat Sampras there in his prime and win the title (1996). In that light, the sentence subtly argues that being great on grass isn’t some niche party trick. It’s a specialist skill with a Hall-of-Fame yardstick. He’s positioning himself in the same ecosystem as those icons without the tackiness of self-comparison: praise them, and you imply the standard you’ve met.

There’s also an implicit critique of modern homogenized tennis. As courts slowed and baselines took over, grass became less alien. By invoking players whose games were tailored to grass’s weird geometry - low bounce, skidding slices, reflex volleys - Krajicek is reminding listeners that surface mastery used to matter more, and that certain kinds of genius only show up when the court forces you to play on a knife edge.