One of Irving Stone’s finest biographical novels is called The Agony and the Ecstasy, a brilliant recreation of the life and work of the Italian Renaissance sculptor Michelangelo. I love the title. It has a resonant rhythm to it and captures the essence of achievement in any field–science, arts, and sports. The ecstasy of transcendence in a field is invariably preceded by a long period of agony, uncertainty and self-doubt. It is just a romantic view of history that portrays geniuses as men and women who wake up one fine day to discover or create something new. We like to think of great achievements as miraculous moments vouchsafed to a few privileged people because it is comforting to assume so. It absolves us from working hard. But the simple truth is that there is never a sudden “Eureka” moment in any field (I am convinced of it) unless there are extended periods of effort and dedication to a given problem or skill.
Nowhere is this hypothesis more evident than in sports. No matter how talented you are, unless that talent is backed by grit (brilliantly fleshed out in Angela Duckworth’s book Grit), no lasting achievement is possible. It is easy to think of Bach, Beethoven, Federer, Messi, or Sachin as geniuses, but none of them became one without years of honing and sharpening their skills. Grit is the key. It is a quality that differentiates winners from losers. Madison Keys, the new Australian Open champion, epitomizes grit.
There was something special about Madison Keys’ game this Australian Open that indicated she was in a zone of her own. From the first round, her groundstrokes came off the middle of the racket; her serves had the extra fluid oomph to them, and the angles, depth, and adjustments she made on crucial points–turning defense into offense–were evidence that after years of struggle with injuries, inconsistent performances, and spasms of self-doubt, she has now broken out of her cocoon. Her game has now acquired a synchronicity of body and mind that comes only when years of unrelenting practice produce a level of play that separates champions from others. It was a pleasure watching Keys’ tennis in the last two weeks. There was nothing she could do wrong. Keys hit the tennis ball with such fluency and authority during this tournament that it reminded me of Steffi Graf during her golden years. It was unbelievable how many times the ball caressed the baseline or the corners of the court. That kind of angle and accuracy cannot be deliberately willed; it has to come instinctively when the bodily reflexes obey the commands of the mind with effortless precision.
What we call “form” or being “in the zone” is this condition of perfect harmony between the body, mind, and the field of play. Every player hopes to achieve this synergy at least once in a Grand Slam, and those who stumble into this zone cannot ever forget the meditative fluency of their performance. In fact, they will not be able to articulate how they did it. For Keys, after 16 years in the professional circuit, these two weeks at the Australian Open were her best. Everything about her game came together: serves, racket speed, ball angles, volleys, anticipation, confidence, luck, and, of course, the fruition of countless hours of agony followed by ecstasy.
I remember the 2024 Wimbledon quarter-finals: Keys against the talented Italian Jasmine Paolini. Keys was leading the match 5-2 in the last set but began limping. She had pulled her hamstring and needed a medical timeout. When she returned to the court with a heavy bandage around her leg, it was evident that she was unable to move as freely as she would have liked. Keys couldn’t continue beyond a couple of points and retired from the match in tears, ending her hopes of reaching the quarterfinals for the third time. This has been the story of Keys’ career. She had great starts and lots of promise, but she was plagued with injuries at key moments, forcing her to skip tournaments. Nothing frustrates a top-level athlete more than withdrawing from the sport due to injuries and then fighting their way back to the top. Doing it once or twice in the course of one’s career is understandable, but if you need to do it frequently, as was the case with Keys, it is not fun.
That is the essence of grit: tremendous guts and perseverance. It is also important to have the support of good coaches and family to keep the motivation alive. Thankfully, Keys is gritty and has a sound support system in place. She kept the inner fire burning long enough to see this day with the Australian Open trophy in her hands. In her victory, once again, we see the vindication of the timeless advice of never giving up, no matter what the odds are. That is all one can do in our lifetime.
Keys made two important modifications to her game last year: one relates to her racket, and the other to her serve. Let’s talk a bit about both. Keys made a surprising racket-change decision during the preceding off-season. She switched from the Wilson racket she had used for nearly 20 years to a Yonex model. Such a change is rare, especially for a player so deep into her career, but she has reaped the benefits of it. It is hard to overemphasize the importance of using the right equipment in modern sports–or, for that matter, in any field of activity, be it music, where the right instrument can enhance performance, or technology, where the right tools can boost productivity. Keys explained her decision to switch to Yonex by emphasizing how the racket gave her more control. She said, “It just feels like I have the ability to kind of maneuver things a little bit easier.” A tennis racket should feel like an extension of one’s arms, and for Keys, the Yonex racket has done just that. Her tennis instincts found their expression through it. Even on bad days, she was able to tweak her game, and her racket responded to those adjustments, giving her a chance to get back into any match.
The second major change Madison Keys made to her game was her serve, a weapon she’s relied on for years. In the past Keys consistently aimed for the big first serve, hoping to finish the point. In the process, she was often at a loss when the return came back. Last year, under the guidance of Fratangelo (her husband and coach), Keys cut down on the urge to serve hard and instead focused on accuracy and percentage tennis. Her husband had to strongly encourage her to adopt the change in style, which went against the grain of her natural game. She was always a big server, and to now tone down her serve and focus on winning points through other aspects of her game was a major shift. But she did it. This is the value of having a trusted mentor looking at you from the outside and suggesting changes. It is extremely important to have such a mentor in life, someone who can nudge us in a different direction at the right time. Our ingrained patterns of thought and action can often blind us, and it is a sign of maturity to open oneself to change. Embracing change is never easy, but the rewards can be deeply satisfying. Madison Keys victory attest to this fact.
Madison Keys’ triumph serves as a powerful reminder that success is a winding path filled with setbacks, adaptations, and relentless perseverance. Greatness in a chosen field is never bestowed overnight but earned through years of struggle, resilience, and an unwavering belief in oneself. Whether in sports, the arts, or any pursuit of excellence, the agony of setbacks is an inevitable precursor to the ecstasy of triumph. Keys’ victory is proof that with talent, grit, support, and the willingness to evolve ( in this order, respectively), the moment of transcendence is always within reach.