Billing itself as the “definitive biopic of one of the most explosive and compelling sports icons of all time,” Barney Douglas’ new documentary McEnroe captures tennis legend John McEnroe at his most self-reflective.
Following in the footsteps of Michael Jordan’s The Last Dance and Derek Jeter’s The Captain, the film, which will premiere Sept. 4 on Showtime, sees McEnroe trace his journey from Queens-raised Army brat to “Superbrat,” a tennis player of such talent, ferocity, and grievance that he all but ended the careers of the greats who came before him, Jimmy Connors and Bjorn Borg, and became an American folk hero of sorts.
While we’re all aware of his unforgettable on-court tantrums—“You cannot be serious!” will be on his gravestone—and his on-court triumphs, including a remarkable 82-3 season that may never be topped, Douglas’ doc reveals how McEnroe became a cultural icon, one who now thrives as a color commentator, hosted a talk show, and even pops up in the occasional Adam Sandler movie.
McEnroe not only features interviews with McEnroe, interspersed with footage of him wandering the New York City streets at night, but testimonials from Borg, Billie Jean King, Chrissie Hynde, Keith Richards, his partner Patty Smyth, and several of his children, all to try and illustrate what makes him tick. (His ex-wife Tatum O’Neal is noticeably absent—more on that later.)
In person, McEnroe is a fount of nervous energy. His legs shake uncontrollably, and he adjusts his sitting position every 30 seconds or so. He can struggle to maintain eye contact. Smyth suggests in the film that he may lie somewhere on the spectrum, though McEnroe mostly chalks it up to being a rough-around-the-edges kid from Queens.
“I am really a New Yorker through and through,” says McEnroe. “If anyone looks at me, they’ll think, ‘That guy’s a New Yorker.’ That’s kind of a no-brainer.”
McEnroe may be “an old, boring, happily married guy” now, but his road there was not without its obstacles. I spoke with McEnroe about his life, career, and the state of tennis.
I’m generally curious how a kid from Queens becomes one of the greatest tennis players of all time. Are there moments in your life where you think, “That was a real fork-in-the-road moment for me”?
It’s like that Malcolm Gladwell book Outliers—you believe you’re destined to be something for a reason, and you don’t even know why. I don’t know why I was a tennis player. None of the people who I grew up around became professional tennis players, but I happened to move to a part of Queens, Douglaston, that was literally a block from this [tennis] club. So, I would walk down there and eventually started hitting against the wall. Then, the pro that was there happened to have a son that had played a few U.S. Opens—a better tennis pro than you’d think would be at a place like this—and he was like, “You’ve got to go to Port Washington.” That was where there this legendary tennis coach was, Harry Hopman, who’d coached the Aussie greats—Rod Laver, [John] Newcombe, Lew Hoad, and all these guys. I didn’t know who the hell he was, but there was an aura about him, and he’d somehow moved 20 minutes from where I was.
Then there was this guy who taught me to play in a way I could really connect with. He was a Mexican player who moved right there. It was these things that happened for a reason you can’t explain. I played an event in Chicago when I was 14, and I wasn’t even that great. I was OK. I didn’t even make the top 10 in the event. There was this article written afterward and this guy said, “I watched this kid who in six or eight years is going to be the No. 1 player in the world.” I was like, what’s going on here?!
John McEnroe by the net talking to the umpire in his chair, with a crowded grandstand in the background at Wimbledon in 1982.
Michael Cole/AELTCThere’s this moment in the documentary that stuck with me, and it’s where Jimmy Connors fakes his injury to end the match [at the ’79 Grand Prix Masters]. Your takeaway from that was, “I learned you’ve got to be a little bit of a prick out there.”
Well, I learned that I was going to take that as a win anyway, because it was 7-5, 3-0, and I knew I was going to beat his ass anyway—and I’d never beaten him, so that was a huge moment for me. Certain people never give you the credit you deserve. We can get into all types of people that don’t do that for a variety of reasons. You could look at the former president, who won’t accept his loss. Maybe that’s what propelled him to that point in the first place. It’s like, could I have won if I had not yelled at umpires? I’d like to think I could have won no matter what I did, you know? That I was better than anyone. I used to think I was throwing away five, six points every match. If you tell a guy, “You suck!” you think he’s going to give you the next call?
Probably not. Is anyone going to have a better season than you did in 1984? 82-3?
God, I hope not! I’ve lost every other record. It could be beaten, but it’s unlikely. First of all, you won’t see people play that many matches. I know Roger [Federer] was 81-4 one year. And I used to be somewhat critical of this guy David Nalbandian, because at times it looked like he wasn’t giving the type of effort that professionals should. There may have been legitimate reasons behind it. He was very talented. And ironically, it was Nalbandian who came up from two sets to love down and beat Roger like 7-6 in the fifth to make it so that he lost the fourth match.
You mention in the doc that you’re possessed of a unique ability to recover. That you can completely lose it, yell like crazy, but then it’s out of your system and you’re right back in the match. Most people really spiral when they start flipping out.
That did work for a while. I did have an uncanny ability for about 10 years to get my concentration back. That’s what people don’t realize is so important in tennis—and in sports. It’s not all about how you hit your forehand, it’s about how long you can keep that intensity an opponent might feel and be intimidated by. The way I tried to intimidate, or get people thinking, was I would come out guns blazing with a ton of energy. Most athletes, when they lose it, it takes them a couple of games for them to pull it back together. It would further infuriate an opponent if you did that and then got it back the next point. So it’s a win-win: I get to blow off some steam, and then I get it back. That second part is what bothered players. If you see [Nick] Kyrgios now, they go along with him. It looks like he doesn’t even give one damn the way he’s playing, so they say, “Yeah, OK, self-destruct.” But if he starts serving aces? They’re not gonna like that very much. And that’s the way he’s been playing these past few months. They want the bad Nick Kyrgios. They don’t want to play the good one.
How do you feel about Kyrgios? I’m sure you’re often compared, since he’s the new “tennis bad boy.” But the way he acts up on the court is more extreme than what you were doing in your day.
Well, yeah. In some ways, for sure. When I look at him, every time he does something I go, “Wait… Did I ever do that?” The guy played great at Wimbledon. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs at the people in his box and you go, “God, this is horrible.” But that’s typical of a human being—you let it go at the people you’re closest to. Those are the ones that you sometimes don’t show the best side of you. A few times—I shouldn’t even say this—but I remember I was playing at the U.S. Open and it’d be 95 degrees out there, and something would be going wrong, and my dad would be going, “You can do it, son!” And I’d be like, “Fuck you, man! It’s easy for you to say! You’re sitting over there and I’m over here sweating!” One time after a match my dad went up to me and said, “Hey, son, did you say ‘fuck you’ to me during the match?” And I went, “No! There was somebody 10 rows up…”
Players are always yelling at their people, and Nick moves the needle in our sport. We need different, younger people—personalities. The place where I separate myself from Nick is the effort, and we’ve been seeing more of that lately from him. All players today should model their effort after Nadal. My guy was Connors. I’d look in the mirror and go, “Are you trying as hard as that guy?” And you need to try to try as hard as him. They play every point like it was their last. Too often, Nick just quits. He’s good for the game, but he’d be incredible if he could go out and give that consistent effort. I’m hopeful that he could go out and do that for a couple of years.
Your relationship with the British tabloid press is interesting. They were the ones who nicknamed you “Superbrat.” It gave the appearance of the buttoned-up Brits going after the brash young American.
That’s very true. It was culture shock for both of us when I went there—particularly me. [Wimbledon’s] done a good job of moving into the 21st century, but at the time it was like, man, I’m dealing with a bunch of old stiffs here.
The British tabloid press don’t really like anyone who steps out of line. I mean, look at the way they treated Princess Diana.
It’s funny you mention that because I met her. She came to a couple of matches, and one of them I met her. She leaned over to me and said, “It’s got to be so difficult what you’re going through,” because I was getting raked over the coals. And I was thinking, “Difficult what I’m going through? Times it by a hundred and that’s what you’re going through.” I really felt horrible. That really upset me when she died. I was like, are they finally gonna not let this happen anymore? And it’s worse than it was ever. The [paparazzi] chase and the whole thing made me sick.
You got a taste of that.
I got a taste of that. Nowhere near as bad as hers. But absolutely I did, which is why I’m glad I’m an old, boring, happily married guy who’s been with one person for 28 years, for God’s sake.
How did all that tabloid pressure affect your game?
It didn’t help it very much, because I was wasting too much energy thinking about it—especially when I met Tatum [O’Neal]. I’d never been in The National Enquirer. This was a whole new level. It was crazy. It was like, this movie business is nuts. It got so bad to the point where when my first son was born, this guy that was the head paparazzi guy was like, “Look, you want to do it the easy way or the hard way? If you let me get the first pictures of your baby, I’ll keep everyone else away from you.” It was cutting a deal with the devil, and I said, “How much money are you gonna get paid for this? I want half,” and I knew I was gonna give that half to charity.
I can’t imagine that. I love going out and doing my chores in sweats on the weekend.
There are certain positives to being anonymous—and there are certain great things to being out there. That’s why I’m not on Twitter and Instagram. [Laughs] I’m like, I’d get in trouble! I don’t want to be in too much hot water.
Was Tatum asked to be in the documentary?
I did not ask her. No.
Because I understand she’d made some pretty explosive allegations against you when you two split—including allegations of abuse. That’s not covered in the documentary. Was there validity to those claims?
Well, in my mind there wasn’t. I can’t stop her from saying what she says. And what type of abuse? Verbal abuse? Were we in heated discussions? Yes, certainly. But I absolutely, totally, and uncategorically do not feel like I did any of that stuff whatsoever—if it’s anything physical we’re talking about here. We certainly got in our share of arguments and did some stupid things together, but look, it’s unfortunate when people go through divorces. Things are said that are not true. I would like to think that if you went over and interviewed her today, for example, that she wouldn’t be saying those things. Those things were said—and this is just my opinion—out of frustration or any variety of reasons.
John McEnroe holding the Gentlemen’s Singles Final Trophy at The Championships 1983 at The All England Lawn Tennis Club, Wimbledon.
Michael Cole/AELTC/ShowtimeWhat was it like meeting Patty, and how did that change things for you? From the outside, it seems like that’s had a calming effect on you.
It’s one of the smartest—if not the smartest—decisions I’ve ever made. It was a really difficult divorce [from Tatum]. We had three kids and were together for eight years, so automatically that’s not easy. The toughest job in the world is to be a stepmom, and I think she’s done a great job at it. I think a lot of people can relate to this, but you go through a divorce and you’ve got kids, and the last thing I wanted to do was get in another marriage because the pain of the divorce was so tough. I met Patty on Christmas Day 1993. I knew of her and she knew of me, but we’d never met, which is weird. I thought we were set up on a blind date—it was a party, and that’s how my friend had portrayed it—but it didn’t seem like she had the same feeling. I was like, “We should get together!” but she was going away, and I didn’t see her for another eight months. I beat Agassi in this exhibition, and it was four or five days after he’d won the U.S. Open, and I had stopped playing so I was feeling high and mighty. I gave her a call and we got together, and then the next day, Vitas [Gerulaitis] died. That just blew my mind. I was numb and said, “I want to see you and be with you.”
There’s a scene in the documentary where Patty’s being interviewed, and she speculates that you might be somewhere on the spectrum.
Well, you know, a lot of these things, like attention-deficit [disorder] and stuff that we talk about, I think a lot of people have that. I’m the calming influence in this, by the way. I’m the calmer one of the two! I’m like, “Hey, take it easy here”—which I find ironic and awesome. I suppose you could view, if you looked at it a certain way, that I’m out there a little bit, if you want to call it on the spectrum. I think I’m also an average New Yorker too, though.
We used to call that being “an eccentric New Yorker.”
Right! That’s what I think I am! I think I’m a tried-and-true New Yorker that’s got some eccentricities, but for the most part people can relate to me, and what you see is what you get.
Who do you think the greatest tennis player of all time is?
There’s no easy answer. To me, the three we have right now, you could pick each one and make an argument for them. Federer, Djokovic, and Nadal have taken the game to a level which I hadn’t seen before. They brought each other up and made each other better, which is the key to any great rivalry. With me and [Bjorn] Borg, that was the most exciting time—although I’m biased. I viewed myself a little like Djokovic in the beginning, because I thought, “I’ve got to get up to that level and get the same level of respect.” I don’t think that the interest in tennis is the same as it once was, and if anything, it’s more expensive. Those are the three best players I’ve ever seen. Serena would be the best female player I’ve ever seen, all in all. It’s somewhat natural in sports to see people get better, although you could still argue that Michael Jordan was the greatest basketball player ever.
I would argue that. He’s the only person I’ve ever enjoyed cook my Knicks.
I would also. To me, he’s better than LeBron James and all these other guys. But these three, for different reasons—I would put Rafa the greatest clay court player, Novak the greatest hardcourt player, and Roger the greatest grass court player.
John McEnroe in McEnroe.
Paola Franqui/ShowtimeI caught you at the tail end of your career, but grew up mainly with guys like Sampras, Agassi, Courier, and Chang. The state of American tennis was very strong back then. How do you feel about it now?
Women’s is good because the playing field is more level and it’s the most desirable sport for women financially, so the best athletes play, which is the key thing. Part of the reason why is that other countries started putting more money into tennis when the Olympics came back to tennis [in 1988]. I used to want to play a guy from Switzerland, but now you wouldn’t if you’re playing Roger Federer. There are great players from Mallorca recently, like Nadal. But the bottom line is that the best athletes in these other countries decided to play tennis, and that’s not the case here. Our best athletes are playing basketball or football. And then there’s the cost of it. All these things have contributed to our guys being No. 10 in the world instead of No. 1 in the world.
There must also be something going on with tennis academies in the U.S. and how young players are being trained.
Well, this is a problem in all sports. People think you’ve gotta decide at 10 and then go all in. Nick Bollettieri, I always thought he was full of himself, but look at Agassi. And then if you read Agassi’s book, it sounded like tennis’ version of Lord of the Flies. I’m not sure that’s good for kids. And then IMG bought Bollettieri, so now it’s a hornet’s nest down there of agents trying to sign the next 12-year-old. I mean, it’s sad in a way. My academy is trying to be different, and that’s why they pooh-pooh it. Oh, McEnroe doesn’t know anything! You’ve got to go all in when you’re 10 or 12, and God forbid you go to college or play other sports! It’s a total joke to me. Hopefully, before I’m six feet under, they’ll listen to some of this. Because otherwise we’ll be at this place forever.
What is the state of John McEnroe right now? Have you found inner peace?
I think I’m the closest to it than I’ve probably ever been. The journey that you see to some extent in the documentary is what I’ve been striving for for 40 years. I became a better person. It didn’t necessarily make me a better player, and I would have loved to have won a couple more along the way…
