There Is Only One Number One. It

The Minute You Think You Know Everything About Tennis Is The Minute Your Game Starts Going Down The Tubes.

Back In East St. Louis, Tennis Wasn't The Real Thing. If You Weren't Playing Baseball, Basketball, Football, You Were Kind Of On The Outside.

Playing In Front Of 25,000 People And Millions More On Television, And Performing And Doing What I Worked So Hard To Try To Accomplish Was, In My Opinion, The Ultimate. Do I Miss It? Of Course I Do.

There Is Only One Number One. It Is A Lonely Spot But It Has Got The Best View Of All.

I Can't Say That I Was My Happiest On Court, But I Felt Completely Free. Free From Family Obligations, Free From My Own Torment. In A Real Sense I Was A Different Person. It Was A Place Where I Could Not Tolerate The Idea Of Being Beaten. I Psyched Myself Up Into A State Where I Felt Something Close To Hatred Towards My Opponent, A State Where I Detested The Idea Of Someone Making His Name At The Expense Of Jimmy Connors. I Was In My Element On Court, Measuring Myself Against Someone Else. I Was Not Competitive For Show. It Came From Deep Within.