Steve Johnson takes us through a year of the ATP tour's global grind

As he prepares for another run towards the top of U.S. tennis, Steve Johnson takes us through a year of the tour’s global grind.

January 1, 2016

There’s no time to rest on tour, and not much time to celebrate holidays, either. It’s New Year’s Day and I just finished a two-hour workout in 90-degree heat. But that’s the way I like it, and I would never complain about starting the season in Brisbane. The air is warm and the seats are full. Nobody does sports like the Aussies; even the smaller tournaments have an incredible atmosphere. It’s the jolt you need to make you remember why you took a 14-hour flight to get here.

What makes it especially exciting for me is that I’m coming off the best season of my career. In 2015, I finished with my highest ranking, No. 32, and in November, I played my first ATP final, in Vienna. During my off-season practices, at the USTA West facility in Los Angeles, it was a great feeling to know that I can compete for titles. I even put in some work on Christmas Eve—which also happened to be my 26th birthday. I feel the way I did when I first came on tour four years ago: the sky’s the limit.

January 13

Was it just two weeks ago that I was talking about how pumped up I was to start the season? That hasn’t changed, but it didn’t take long for the reality of tour life to set in. Yesterday I lost my first-round match in three sets to Matthew Barton, a qualifier ranked No. 299. He had nothing to lose, and he played great tennis in the bigger moments. Most matches at this level come down to a few crucial points. You just have to make sure you’re the guy who always wins them. No problem, right?

At these times you remember how important it is to have a good support team. I’m traveling with my coach Craig Boynton, my trainer Christian LoCascio and Sam Querrey, who also works with Boynton and LoCascio. It’s a small crew, but we have a lot of fun. Sam is probably the most laid-back guy on tour; it’s tough to feel tense around him. We function like a two-man team on the road: if he’s doing well, it helps my confidence, because I know I can compete with him. And when I’m doing well, it gives him a boost, too.

February 19

Another tough one last week: In Memphis, I lost to Taylor Fritz in two tiebreakers. I kind of winced when I saw the draw, because I knew there was going to be a special kind of pressure in this match. Taylor is 18, a great kid and extremely talented, and we practice a lot together in L.A. I was excited for him. As the older American and No. 2 seed, I knew I was expected to win, but it’s hard to compete normally in that situation. When you know someone well, it’s hard to get comfortable; you almost feel like you’re playing against a little bit of yourself. But he beat me, and that’s life. I was happy to see him go on to make the final.

That makes two months of the season, and things have been a little slow so far. My record is 3–5, and I haven’t built much momentum. This is when it’s good to know that the season is long, and far from over. For me, trusting in the process of how I go about my game is the most important piece to the puzzle. I’ve learned that there are no shortcuts or faking it in tennis. At the end of the year, if I’m doing the right things, I know I’ll find myself in a great position.

March 29

Boris Becker said tennis players’ lives should be measured in dog years, because we pack so much into so little time. I understand what he meant—it’s amazing how many highs and lows you have. I started the Miami Open with a good win against a talented young player, Alexander Zverev. It was a night match on a side court, and the crowd was crazy. Maybe that was the difference. Last week in Indian Wells, I lost in two tiebreakers to Kei Nishikori; this time I won in two tiebreakers. The next day against Tomas Berdych, it seemed like I had some momentum. I won the first set and got the second set to a tiebreaker—but this time I lost it 8–6, and then dropped the third set.

What a lot of people don’t understand is that this is the way it is for most professional players. People see Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer winning every week, and they think that’s normal. In reality, ups and downs are the norm. The losses stay in your mind longer, but I’ve learned to think of that as a good thing: How else are you going to learn?

May 25

There’s nowhere like Paris in the spring, they say. But it can be bittersweet for an American tennis player. I’ve played the French Open a few times now, and it’s still an incredible experience. I love walking the streets with my girlfriend and exploring what the city has to offer. It can be hard to break out of the tennis bubble—practice, hotel, practice, hotel—but I’ve learned that it’s important to get away when you can.

Still, Paris, and Europe in general, can mean long days for American players, and that’s been true for me this time. I lost in the first round in Madrid, the first round in Rome and the first round at Roland Garros, each time to a player from Europe or South America. That’s left me with a lot of downtime, which I can use. I didn’t grow up playing on clay—ever—so there’s still so much to learn and adapt to while I’m out there. I don’t always do my best about staying positive when I’m on the road, but today I feel a little more upbeat knowing that grass is around the corner. I can’t wait to get my feet on it again.

June 13

A few hours ago, I got the first Top 10 win of my career, over Richard Gasquet at Queen’s Club, 7–6 (2), 6–2. This time I won the big points in the first-set tiebreaker, and I kept that momentum going in the second set. For the first time this year, one good patch of play led to another. Heading back to my hotel in London, it was like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. I know that, confidence-wise, a couple of shots here and there can really change everything for me. Was this the moment and the match I’ve been waiting for?

June 25

How does a tennis player celebrate his first ATP title? By boarding a train and heading to the next tournament, of course. My agent, Sam—along with the Nottingham winner’s trophy that’s in the seat next to me—and I are making the trip south through England, but I don’t really care where I am right now.

The last week has been a dream. I said at Queen’s Club that it only took a couple of good shots for things to change for me, but I didn’t think it would change this quickly. In Nottingham, everything clicked at once, and when it came to the crucial points, I felt like I couldn’t lose them. In four matches, I was 4–0 in tiebreakers.

You want to know what you feel when you win a pro tournament? Relief. I’m not even sure what I was relieved about, but that was the overwhelming emotion. I kept trusting in the process this year, but until you win, you never know if you’re on the right track. Now I’m on my way to Wimbledon. For a tennis player, that’s living the dream.

July 6

Wow, so that’s what it’s like to play on Centre Court against Federer. Leading up, it didn’t feel much different from any other match, until we left the locker room and started walking to the court. Coming out on the grass, seeing the crowd around us, hearing them roar—for Roger, of course—it took my breath away. It was a good 15 minutes before I felt normal out there.

That didn’t bode well for my chances, and I lost in straight sets. But it’s always special playing Roger. To me, he’s the greatest player ever, and one of the nicest people in tennis. It was nerve-racking the first time I practiced with him; I didn’t want to play so badly that he would never ask me to hit again. But he was down to earth about everything. I respect how much he has done on the ATP’s Player Council, which most people don’t see. He’s been a big help to a lot of us.

August 17

When things turn around, I guess they turn all the way around. I’ve already had two unforgettable experiences this summer: winning my first tournament and playing Federer on Centre Court. What could top that? I’m staring at it now: an Olympic medal. I never thought I would hold one of these, but Jack Sock and I won the bronze in doubles in Rio last week. The significance didn’t dawn on me until I landed back in the United States. Suddenly everyone you meet is so happy for you. Not everyone follows tennis, but everyone knows what the Olympics mean.

The week in Rio was a dream come true. Once you get there, you understand what makes the Olympics special. It hit me when I walked into the stadium for the opening ceremony with the whole U.S. team. I love team sports, and I was disappointed not to play Davis Cup earlier this year. Now here I was, in Rio, on the ultimate team. It was amazing to compete with people like Michael Phelps and LeBron James. I get chills thinking about it.

September 1

“A jet engine and a giant heartbeat.” That’s how Andre Agassi described the sound of the fans in Arthur Ashe Stadium during a night match. Now I know what he was talking about. I’m sitting in my hotel room in Manhattan, and I can still hear that roar in my ears. Tonight I played my first night match on Ashe, another milestone in a summer full of them.

If anything, it’s louder in there today than when Andre was playing, because the noise bounces off the new roof. I’m not complaining; it was a thrill to hear people cheer for me. Last week I became the No. 1-ranked U.S. player, which is still a little surreal. I never thought I would hear those words next to my name. More than anything, it’s an honor, especially when you think of the guys who have held that position. But it’s been a team effort, too. I get a lot of help from the other American players, the USTA and its coaches, and our fans.

But nothing helped tonight. I lost to Juan Martin del Potro, which is no shame. It was still frustrating, though, because I didn’t play as well at the Open as I did this summer. I felt fine going out there, not nearly as nervous as I was on Centre Court. But I had a bad stretch of four or five games, and you can’t do that against a player like Delpo.

The one good thing is that I can head home soon, back to Redondo Beach. After the last couple of months, I’m ready to walk around a town where no one recognizes me, and feel like any other California kid heading to the beach.

Nine months after I started the season, my ranking is pretty close to where it was in January. But during that time, I’ve been through the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. Like most players out here, I know the fun isn’t about getting to the destination, it’s about making the journey.