Gasquet & Racquet: The two delivered one unforgettable moment at Roland Garros

PARIS—“Thank you. This is one of the best moments of my career.”

Right back at you, Richard.

I’ve seen a lot of spectacular tennis in my 16 years covering the sport for TENNIS.com. Think about all the history that’s been written in the men’s and women’s games during that stretch of time. To have watched it all unfold on televisions, computers, phones and other viewing portals has been a treat.

But as is the case with most things, it’s what you experience in person that resonates most.

I’m not sure precisely where Richard Gasquet’s 7-6 (5), 7-6 (2), 6-4 win over Borna Coric ranks in terms of best matches I’ve witnessed live, but “when I stop my career,” as the veteran Frenchman also told a jubilant crowd on Court Suzanne Lenglen, “I will think about this moment.”

Half the reason for this is Gasquet himself. By no means do I know the 37-year-old, but you could say we have a history. The first tennis tournament I attended was the 2005 US Open, and after falling for the sport on TV, seeing players like Gustavo Kuerten and Tommy Robredo hit the ball that hard up close was all I had hoped for. It was already a memorable Thursday in Flushing Meadows—and then I happened upon the old Grandstand for Gasquet’s second-round match.

It was a forgettable match, a truncated contest against Giorgio Galimberti that ended when the Italian retired. But it was far from nondescript. I’d seen highlights of Gasquet’s arrival when he beat Roger Federer earlier that year in Monte Carlo, but even that display didn’t do his tennis justice. Seated behind the baseline that right, I was enraptured by this elegantly powerful teenager, and I doubt I was the only one. I was hooked, and if you want more proof, you can use the Wayback Machine and look for a blog titled Gasquet & Racquet, authored by yours truly.

As time passed, my relationship with Richard changed. First and foremost, working in the tennis industry essentially eliminates fandom. Not entirely, I’ll admit, but in a significant way. I’ve been called a hater and worse by every fanbase out there, but the truth is that around 2010, tennis for me became strictly business.

Gasquet didn’t help matters with his performances on the biggest stages. In 37 combined appearances at the Australian Open and Roland Garros, he’s reached just one quarterfinal. At Wimbledon and the US Open, he’s combined to reach three semifinals—and then won zero sets in those final fours. Not that I was expecting him to beat Federer in SW19, Rafael Nadal in Queens or Djokovic in Paris, but…I was expecting a little more. I’ve dealt with enough heartbreak for one lifetime as a Buffalo Bills fan.

In pro wrestling terms, the once lovable Gasquet had turned heel.

He hasn’t done much to inspire confidence since his last major quarterfinal appearance, here in 2016. Two small titles, a few more 250-level finals. He finished 2023 with a 14-24 record and mixed ATP Challenger Tour events into his schedule. All commendable, but it reiterated that Gasquet’s best days were surely behind him.

Sunday—Dimanche—was the exception.

Ranked 124^th, Gasquet was given a wild card into Roland Garros—once a crowd-pleaser, always a crowd-pleaser. The French fans in Lenglen did their part, filling the stadium and chanting their compatriot’s name. Hearing La Marseillaise at such volume and intensity in Paris is something I never forget.

Gasquet responded, winning the first two sets in tiebreakers with brilliant, vintage shotmaking.

But I feared the fans were hoping against hope. In a bit of déjà vu, I recalled the 2010 US Open, when I experienced something similar. On that same Grandstand, the New York faithful did all it could to push a young Ryan Harrison past Sergiy Stakhovsky. (Believe it or not, this is the very best tennis match I’ve seen live. You had to be there.) The atmosphere in that match was so charged that I left the court shaking, as if I’d been transported to another realm. But also with my head, after Harrison failed to convert multiple match points in a devastating, five-set loss.

That, ultimately, is what I expected when Gasquet failed to convert his first match point in the third set. Coric didn’t give Gasquet much opportunity to convert the golden chance, and he wasn’t going to beat himself—Richard had to strike the fatal blow.

But as we like to say back in the States, Any Given Sunday.

For as much flair as Gasquet exhibited on this day, he showed just as much fight. A generally soft-spoken player, he engaged with the crowd, which became an ally rather than a crutch. Gasquet recovered from an early break deficit in the third set, and he recovered again late, earning a second match point just two points later. He never had to face a Coric break point, which was probably for the best.

This time—like 19 years earlier, as a teenage dynamo in Monaco—he fired his signature shot for an iconic victory:

Gasquet and his racquet—the other half of the reason—fell to the terre battue. His Head frame was this tennis artist’s brush, and he had painted a late-career masterpiece.

During an emotional on-court interview, Gasquet’s eyes welled up, and he wasn’t the only one doing so. Such scenes are typically saved for later rounds or longer matches, against more significant opponents. Such stories are, too.

But sometimes a face turn is too great to ignore.

Merci, Richard.