Less than a year after exiting the 2022 Wimbledon quarter-final on the All England Club\u2019s pristine No 1 Court, Cristian Gar\u00edn found himself 10,000 miles away on a hard court on the Pacific island of Noum\u00e9a, New Caledonia.<\/p>\n
The Chilean, who had a career-high ranking of world No 17, had signed up for an ATP Challenger event, tennis\u2019s second-tier tour, mostly attracting players outside the top 100, after a wrist injury forced him to miss two ATP Masters\u00a01000 events. By January 2023, Gar\u00edn sat at a precarious No\u00a082.<\/p>\n
An unforgiving ranking system, determined by tournament performances over the past 52 weeks, waits for no one. Even players like Gar\u00edn, once among the world\u2019s best, can find themselves back in purgatory after a bad spell. \u201cIn the beginning, it was difficult to find motivation,\u201d says the 29-year-old after a long pause.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe cities, conditions are not the best, different from when you play the best tournaments. The Challengers are tough. Sometimes I get very upset because you go a long way to win 30 matches and you\u2019re still outside the top 100. It\u2019s way too\u00a0much.\u201d<\/p>\n
The life of a player can be far from fancy. Casual fans may look toward Carlos Alcaraz\u2019s lucrative sponsorship deals with envy, but those on the fringes of the top 100 and beyond live a starkly contrasting reality. The less glamorous side of the sport involves endless travelling, cost cutting to make ends meet and battling bouts of loneliness.<\/p>\n
Kevin Clancy, a sports psychologist who worked with Ireland\u2019s top players, believes tennis and golf are the most psychologically demanding sports. He says: \u201cIt\u2019s roughly about 20% of the time that you\u2019re on court and hitting the ball, so there\u2019s 80% of the time where you\u2019re doing a lot of\u00a0thinking.<\/p>\n
\u201cTennis is a sport that mentally could beat you up really, really badly. For players at Challenger level, it\u2019s about survival. They need to play more tournaments and have that constant pressure of, \u2018I need to perform and get points\u2019.<\/p>\n
\u201cA lot of times those players are sleeping on floors. They\u2019re sharing\u00a0maybe a motel room with a number of other players. In some cases they may even struggle to have enough money to buy proper food.<\/p>\n
Nikoloz Basilashvili returned from an elbow injury last year and suffered a net loss of about $120,000. Photograph: Dan Istitene\/Getty Images<\/p>\n
\u201cThese players are playing in front of a man and his dog in the\u00a0middle of nowhere. It\u2019s really tough from a psychological perspective.\u201d<\/p>\n
When the Serbian professional Dusan Lajovic first started on tour, he relished the new experiences of travelling to far-flung countries. But his youthful exuberance quickly wore off after years of gruelling 11-month schedules. In 2023, he revealed his battles with depression and\u00a0anxiety<\/a>.<\/p>\n Lajovic, once ranked 23rd in the world and now aged 35, says: \u201cIt\u2019s not just forehands and backhands, it\u2019s how much can you suffer? How much can you travel? How much can you sleep in different beds every week? We take almost as many flights as pilots. It\u2019s a lonely\u00a0sport.<\/p>\n \u201cWhen you\u2019re hitting 30, you\u2019re trying to nest somewhere, start a family. But tennis doesn\u2019t allow you that. It\u2019s not just saying, OK, this is for me, I\u2019m going to be strong, because you\u2019re going hit walls. It takes a toll on your body, your mental health.\u201d<\/p>\n Players dedicate their entire lives to the sport. Japan\u2019s Taro Daniel would know, having moved across\u00a0the globe to Spain when he was 14. \u201cTo put into perspective, it\u2019s 20 years more dedication than a\u00a0doctor to be here,\u201d the 32-year\u2011old\u00a0says, chuckling. \u201cAnd even then, 90% of people don\u2019t make it.\u201d<\/p>\n skip past newsletter promotion<\/a><\/p>\n The best of our sports journalism from the past seven days and a heads-up on the weekend\u2019s action<\/p>\n Privacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy<\/a>. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy<\/a> and Terms of Service<\/a> apply.<\/p>\n after newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Germany\u2019s Maximilian Marterer, now 30, began the nomadic life from the age of 12. \u201cIf I\u2019m healthy, I spend 10, 15 weeks max [per year] at home,\u201d he says. \u201cNot only me, all of us have seen a lot of places, but we also missed many cool moments at\u00a0home.\u201d<\/p>\n From Clancy\u2019s experience, a strong support system is vital. \u201cIt could be family, friends or a partner,\u201d he says. \u201cYes, they may be physically apart, but are they connected to them? On WhatsApp, Zoom, whatever, it\u2019s extremely important. You need to have a routine in place after a match.\u201d<\/p>\n For all their sacrifices, a juicy financial return is far from guaranteed. In 2024, Nikoloz Basilashvili returned from an elbow injury and earned $63,183 in prize money. But after subtracting flight costs and paying his coaches, the Georgian said he made a net loss of about $120,000.<\/p>\n Cristian Gar\u00edn says he found it difficult to be motivated on the Challenger tour. Photograph: Alexander Hassenstein\/Getty Images<\/p>\n \u201cI wanted to quit after my injury because I was very burned out for many years,\u201d he says. \u201cYou are mostly alone and you don\u2019t really have a lot of friends to talk to. I don\u2019t know if there is any other sport like this, to take a flight on the same day you play a match and then next week you are in another city. But then I decided to look at tennis in a different way, to enjoy it a little bit more.\u201d<\/p>\n