This story was featured in The Must Read, a newsletter in which our editors recommend one can’t-miss GQ story every weekday. Sign up here to get it in your inbox.
The Sheats-Goldstein House, located high up in Beverly Hills, is a John Lautner–designed marvel, with a tennis court, a koi pond, and, from the living room, a sweeping view of Los Angeles, just now easing into spring. Though the home’s owner, courtside fixture Jimmy Goldstein, pledged in 2016 to someday donate the house to LACMA, photos of Goldstein with various luminaries—Bill Clinton, Karl Lagerfeld, Drake—still line the walls, and a well-worn CD collection (Pure Pacha Summer 2014, Club St. Tropez 2006) sits stacked in one corner of the living room. This is where they shot the scene in The Big Lebowski in which Jeff Bridges sprawls on the modernist couch, drugged into a dream by a particularly potent White Russian. Now Roger Federer is sitting right about where The Dude sat, taking in the view.
He hasn’t seen the film, he says, though he heard it was a “big success”—he’s more familiar with the location because he once shot something here for a Champagne brand, which is a very Roger Federer thing to say. In person, he is slightly taller than you might think, his eyes a touch more hazel-y. At 42, he still moves with the same grace and efficiency as he did when he was a professional tennis player, though when he and I stand up from the couch where we’ve been talking, we both make the exact same involuntary groan. (Nevermind that Federer has played in more than 1,500 professional tennis matches, and won 20 Grand Slams, and I’m just a guy who watched a sampling of those victories from a variety of reclined postures—it was the same exact sound.) “My back was fine yesterday,” Federer says, laughing and patting it gently.
Last night, Federer attended the Academy Awards ceremony for the second time. (The first time was in 2016, “when Leo won for The Revenant”—another very Roger Federer thing to say.) Even before his retirement, on a tear-filled September evening at the 2022 Laver Cup in London, Federer has had an uncommon interest, for a professional athlete, in the world outside of sports. He has long been a fixture on red carpets from Wimbledon to the Met Gala. “I know some players who do hotel, club, hotel, club, room service, watching sports all day, and that’s it,” Federer says. This was not, and is not, Federer’s way. He is a social guy, and a curious one. Since retiring, in part because of an injury to his left knee that required multiple surgeries, he has traveled frequently from his home in his native Switzerland—Tokyo, Thailand, South Africa—with his wife and four kids, and tried his hand at design, most recently with the California eyewear brand Oliver Peoples, with whom he is releasing a sleek line of sunglasses this week.
One and a half years into his new life, he is reflective but still seemingly powered by whatever potent mix of ease and focus he relied upon as a player. “Just staying in the narrow tennis mind is not enough,” Federer says. “I feel like going out and meeting people and doing different things to me is very appealing, even though I used to dread red carpets and small talk and all that stuff.”
Just, what do you say? What are we doing here? Why do I have to wear this? It was all those questions when you’re a teenager, like, My God, I feel like I can’t breathe in the tie. So I said, look: I need to wear more suits, so I get comfortable in suits. And actually I used to make a conscious effort of wearing more ties with either just a blazer, jacket, and jeans, or ties with a cardigan, and just make sure I get used to the feeling of wearing that type of clothing.
“I’ll train.” I would train myself to be comfortable in it, but it’s so true because if you only wear it once every blue moon and then you only wear it to award shows, you come to the award show and you’re literally freaking out because you’re so uncomfortable and you’re so nervous. So I said: I have to get in the right frame of mind.
I’m really relieved, if that makes any sense.
I mean, the last few years have been tough with my knee. You could feel the end coming closer. So when it’s all said and done and you’re over the line and you’re retired officially, you take a deep breath and you’re like, “Wow, okay, that was good.”
In the moment, it was suffering. Because I knew it was going to be hard. The moment of retirement in London, everything that led up to it. And then of course you have flashbacks a little bit later when you see highlights or people ask you, “How did you feel in that very moment?” and they show you a highlight. You’re like, “Oh, my God, do I really have to see that again?”
Yeah, it’s super highly emotional. Something that has always been with you is gone and will be forever gone, and you cannot have it back as much as you want it back. The train has left the station. And that’s okay, and I want it to be that way, but of course you cannot just go from one day to the next and say like, “Okay, no problem, that’s easy.”
Definitely. Even better. Because I was always petrified of the moment when you play and the match is over, we shake hands, and then the opponent kind of just drifts away or he hangs around and you then take the mic, you’re all alone on the court, some of your friends are up in the stands, but nobody knows if you’re going to lose in the first round or you’re losing the finals or whatever. So not everybody can be there. Not everybody knows on that very day that that was going to be the end. So you end up being like, okay, and then you speak, that’s it, boom, over, and then next match and the show goes on.
It’s not a big deal, but the show goes on. And I was just always afraid that I was going to be standing alone down on court. Everything I’ve always hoped for is to be in a team environment and surrounded by my closest ones where I could tell the world, “Okay, this is going to be the day.” I don’t remember the date to be honest, but that particular Friday night I was able to say, I’m going to be playing and everybody can come and watch me play. There was still a Saturday and Sunday that followed up the Laver Cup and I could just hang around, relax, enjoy. I was still part of the team, so it felt like a net catching me.
I mean, a hundred percent you have flashes as you sit in the car on the way to training or something and you look outside and think, Okay, how is retirement going to be? Or: Where am I going to retire? How am I going to retire? How much longer can I play? Those questions naturally pass your mind as you think about your life and you think about your kids and where the journey’s going to go. But I think every player has that. I’ve been asked about retirement since 2009 when I won the French Open and I tied Sampras’s record [of 14 Grand Slams]. People say, “So what else is there to achieve?” I’m like, yeah, “Good question. I dunno. But I love playing and we’ll see where it takes me.”
You’re not. You’re “retired.” They’re like, “What do you do?” “I don’t know.” I’m retired. It’s strange.
Tennis was my identity, but it was not what I was doing all day every day. I mean, for the most part, I’m being more of a dad and a husband and a son. Being a tennis player was my hobby, and then that became my job. But I always tried to not identify myself just purely as a tennis player. When tennis was taken away or put aside, well, I still had all the other things. And I think that mindset has anyway been a strength of mine throughout my career. I knew that if tennis ends tomorrow, which it can with an accident or whatever, it happens, you have to be able to live with yourself without the game.
I feel like it’s been pretty straightforward and not too complex to dive into the retirement life. I actually don’t have enough time in the day. And I love being surrounded by people and friends and I’m very social. So I think it has always helped me, that I don’t sit alone in a room. I feel like I’ve had maybe two afternoons since my retirement where I’ve been at home alone because kids were in school or doing something and my wife was working on some other projects and here I am at home, I’m like, Okay, what do I do? I don’t know. It was awkward enough. So let’s not have those moments. Let’s not do that anymore. Let’s not do that again.
Good question. I feel…what do I feel? I feel minutes matter more now than before. I don’t know if it’s an age thing as well, as you get older, you feel like time’s running away from you and you still have a lot to accomplish, a lot to do.
I think when you have a chance to work with great people, great minds, you get into this idea of how cool would it be to have your own sunglasses and, if you could, who would you choose? And you’re like: Oliver Peoples, how cool would that be? California, such a distant place from Switzerland, such a different world altogether. How could we conceptualize an idea and make it come to life? And having spent, I dunno, 80 percent of my life in the summer because we’re chasing the sun all year round with the tour makes me want to wear more sunglasses now. Who knows what played a role in it, but I just thought it could be something really, really fun.
In this case with Oliver Peoples, they sketch out the ideas, I bring in my opinions as well. And then it’s like you put it all in a pot, you cook it up, you stir it up. And then what is your inspiration? Do we want to reference tennis or do we just stay away completely from it? But Oliver Peoples really thought it would be cool to reference tennis with some of the colors, which reference the different surfaces, and the strings at the back with the logo. And I just thought that actually is a great idea. So okay, let’s dive deeper into it. And I’m so happy with the result. Honestly, I think they look really good.
Travels for sure. My wife, Mirka, is three years older and she was always very elegant and always very into cars, watches, and fashion. Those were her hobbies. And she was always very outgoing, visiting places, and I think she inspired me very much to also go to museums, meet people, be more outgoing, be socially stronger. Because we started dating when I was 18 years old and we had met at the Sydney Olympics back in 2000. And so I think that’s what got me into the whole fashion world. When you go to all these different cities, I’m sorry, you cannot wear jeans and running sneakers and, I dunno, an oversized T-shirt every single day. And then as I was growing into a more successful tennis player, you were doing this red carpet. So you need a suit and you cannot wear the same tie every time.
Well, I didn’t, to be honest. I don’t know how to explain. This was something I didn’t want to do. It’s like writing a book. I didn’t want to write a book. I just was not ready to write my story. So that was never an idea. Then when the end was coming nearer, and once the Laver Cup was set, the question was: Well, do we want to have anything documented? Just maybe more for my own story, for my own kids, for friends and coaches and my team. How about if we film a little bit of an over-the-shoulder type thing? Then at least we’d have something, because we almost have no behind the scenes of my life because I never want anybody around. So then they came and I said, “Well, you probably want to see before, and then during, and after [the match].” And then Joe told me, “Hey, I have so much footage and it’s so incredible and it would be such a waste not to share this. Can I just pitch to you a one-hour doc?” And I’m like, “Okay, well sure, but that’s not the point here. But yeah sure, show me.” And it’s super emotional, hard-core to watch. So I watch it with Mirka and Tony [Godsick, Federer’s agent] and we’re like, Oh, my God, wow. So next thing you know, it’s like we’re doing one and a half hours, last-12-days-of-my-life type thing. I watched a screening the other day, it was hard-core. I cried like six times.
I just think there’s so many moments where you feel that suffering I was talking about. You see the end coming and there is this end point, but it’s beautiful. But it’s just for me also probably emotionally going through it, it’s hard. I wonder how the viewer will see it. But I think it’s maybe very nice, and I think for a lot of athletes, maybe it’ll be good to see how I went out.
No, yeah, we’re talking mentally, just emotionally. It goes through your body, literally. It’s like a full whole body experience. You’re like, “Oh, my god.”
I mean, with Grand Slam matches. The one thing that comes close was maybe when I lost at Wimbledon [in 2021], my last match against [Hubert] Hurkacz, in straight sets. Six-love in the third. And I literally came off the court and my knee was so bad I couldn’t even play properly anymore. And I knew that this maybe was my last Wimbledon. I tried to get ready for the press conference to see, Okay, what could they possibly be asking me? It has to be about the knee, and my mind is spinning and I’m having fireworks in my head and it was literally like, Oh, my God, I just lost at Wimbledon. I tried everything. This is the maximum I could have done. Actually, I played really good considering I made it really far, I thought. That whole experience was a whole full out-of-body experience because everything happened in a way I didn’t think it was going to happen or shouldn’t happen. Like the match six-love in the third, the press conference, the feelings I was having, the fear, the anxiety, just the whole thing. I mean it was hard-core. So maybe that comes a little close in a different way to my retirement.
Not really, actually.
Yeah, I get that question a lot, and I don’t miss it. I really don’t. I feel really at peace. I think it’s also because I know that my knee and my body and my mind don’t allow me to be out there. Do I feel like, Oh, I could hit that shot? Yeah, okay: Maybe I could right now. But I feel like I squeezed the lemon out. I tried everything I had. And I’m so at peace. I love to go to play tennis when I play with my children. I just booked a court with my wife for the first time in my life. We asked, “Is a court available on Tuesday from three to four maybe? Because I think it’d be maybe fun to go play.” This was like a month ago, or two months ago, and we went to play next to my kids, who were having a lesson, and it was just so much fun. I love playing tennis and I always thought, How is that moment going to be when I retire and I go back on a tennis court and actually don’t have to improve? Who cares if I miss a forehand? Who cares if it’s getting better or not?
Yes. Actually it’s so funny. I was just at Stanford a couple of days back and I went to watch their team play tennis because Tony’s son is a freshman at Stanford. And then I saw them doing something and I told Tony’s son, “Look, on the forehand return, I think you should be doing this.” And I explained quickly, I took a racket, I was dressed like this [varsity jacket, jeans, and a sweater] and I’m clocking forehand returns, and it’s just there. It doesn’t go away. It’s like riding a bike. And then we did another exercise and then I’m trying to explain how there’s different versions of forehands. There is the loopy one, the fast one, the angle-y one, whatever. And every one I hit was perfect. And I’m just thinking, My God, it’s still there.
I watch highlights. A full match is hard for me to watch because I’m just too busy with children and running around. Maybe I watched one full, entire match last year. But other than that, it’s highlights and I check scores every day. I’m surprised actually. I thought I was just going to check out completely and not care so much, but I guess I still know too many players and I want to see how they do.
I mean obviously you’re aware when they’re in the finals or you’re aware when Rafa comes back or you’re aware when Novak breaks another record. It’s all good, you know? But I will not set my schedule aside, like, well, This match I have to see. But obviously I’ve followed it and I love to see that, especially Novak’s been going from strength to strength. It keeps on going. And Rafa obviously, I felt sad for him that he has not been able to play nearly as much or at all to what he wanted to do. I hope that he can do what he wants to do in the summer, because even though I have a good feeling for him, and I know he pulled out of Indian Wells and Doha and all that stuff, but I still am very hopeful that he can get back on the train and ride it.
It feels good. When I retired in London at the press conference next to Andy [Murray], Novak, Rafa, and [Björn] Borg and everybody who was there, I said, “It’s fitting for me to be the first to go.” I had the time without them on tour when I came on tour and now it’s their time to have a moment on tour without me. So it would’ve felt wrong for me if Murray, who almost retired with his hip, or Rafa with his knees, we didn’t know how long he was going to play. So I’m happy I was the first to go. And actually I wish that they can go on for as long as I did.
Oh, that one is gone.
Yeah, totally. Completely. Because I’m proud and happy about what I achieved; and I will never forget when I broke Sampras’s record, he was cool about it. Or as cool as you can be. And I’ll never forget that. And I think you also take a different role when you retire. You end up being very, I dunno, content in your position, and you also are supportive of the game as a whole. So if things are achieved, I see it in the sphere of: Okay, well, we’re competing not within the tennis-level sphere, but actually we’re competing in the sports sphere, putting tennis on the map on a bigger scale. We’re fighting for eyeballs with Netflix or Amazon, or whatever it is.
I mean, obviously we are missing the one-hander situation. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but for the first time in history—
That’s a dagger right there.
I felt that one. That one was personal. I didn’t like that. But at the same time, how do you say, it makes the one-handers—Sampras, Rod Laver, me—it makes us special as well that we’ve carried the torch, or the flag or whatever, for as long as we did. So I love seeing players with one-handers like Stan [Wawrinka] and [Richard] Gasquet and [Stefanos] Tsitsipas. Dominic Thiem has a wonderful one. Grigor [Dimitrov], good friend. So I love that. And then I like to see characters, and I like to see explosive athletic players. What we get more and more nowadays is that I wish that sometimes we had a little bit more variety, and also back and forth coming to the net a little bit more, not just side to side. We’ll see where the game will go. But obviously the problem is when you have a lot of similar players playing against each other, a lot of the points end up being played in a similar fashion. And my goal on the tour was always—playing every point in a similar way against my opponent is what he wants. What he doesn’t want is if I mix it up and have variety. So for me, seeing two guys play against each other and have 20 same points back to back to back, come on. It can be very interesting. It’s like an arm wrestle. But I like to say, “Let’s not enter the arm wrestle. Let’s enter another game.”
I think it’s still going to exist, it’s going to come back, it’s going to be there. But I mean, I taught my four kids a double-hander. Not that I can teach them a double-hander.
I’m a terrible example. And I’m also a bad custodian of the one-hander. But maybe we can still change that.
I don’t like to put the pressure on these players because honestly aiming for 20 [major victories] was not something I did, Rafa did, or Novak did. Of course you have the players that you think are going to win multiple Slams. Somebody has to win Slams and naturally they’re going to win them nicely and do it perfectly and they’re going to be the ones carrying the game and become the superstars of our sports, which some are already announcing themselves to do: [Carlos] Alcaraz, [Jannik] Sinner, and so forth. And there’s a lot of momentum right now also to see who’s going to be the next guy. So I think the next two to three years, they’re going to give us a really good idea because I think there are good players right now, but I still think they are recalibrating their game to understand: Okay, how can I beat the best in the business on their best surface?
Today, I take it as a big compliment. When I was playing, I was struggling a little bit more with it because I feel like then they would not see the fighter and the winner I hopefully was. Because if you’re not a fighter, if you cannot put in effort—you cannot achieve what I achieved with just being effortless. I think when you’ve worked unbelievably hard, only then can you make it look effortless. So I always struggled—especially early on—with the thought of: Well, do they not see the passion and fight and everything I put into it? Because when I would win it’s like, “Oh, it’s so easy.” And when I would lose, it’s like, “Wish he tried a bit more,” almost. And that in the beginning was really, really hard to accept and really complex for me. It was a bit of a mind bender then. And I think eventually I felt really comfortable in my skin and I knew that I was putting it all on the line. And that’s why when I would lose a match, I could literally, five minutes later, match was over, It’s no problem. I gave it all I had, and we move on.
I think playing in an effortless way—let’s say, could be right after impact [Federer mimes the most beautiful forehand you’ve ever seen], if you’re able to be maybe relaxed, or you’re able to relax while you’re moving, or right away when the point is over, you are able to find a sense of tranquility almost. I think I did that naturally because I thought, That’s going to give me extra energy towards the back end of a match or back end of a tournament, or I could play maybe a few more years. So I did it because I thought, If I’m really tense and uptight all the time, I’ll be exhausted within no time. That’s why when I see other players that are really intense, I’m like, Jesus. I really respect that because I could not be that.
Total sense. I was not really aware of it I guess until 2008. Or maybe there was a moment when, I think in ’05 when I lost to [Marat] Safin at the Australian Open, I said, “I’ve created a monster.” When I lose a set, people are like, “Oh, my god, Roger lost a set.” Or I’m losing in a semis with match point against Safin. People are like in shock. Can you believe it? I’m like, what do you mean, shock? Can you believe it? It’s normal to lose against an unbelievable player.
So I think in 2008 when I lost to Rafa [at Wimbledon, in what many think was the greatest match of all time], it was, I mean, a very particular moment because obviously I was devastated after losing that match. But then I would come to the States a month later and people are still talking about it, like, “Oh, my God, that Wimbledon match.” I’m like, “Yeah, I mean, it was good.” “No, no, that was special and shit. So you lost. But my God, I mean just seeing the human side come out of you and we’ve seen you win so much. So seeing you on the losing side felt really different and special.” I’m like, “Yeah, okay. I mean, the match was fine. Okay, it was good. But really.” And then it kept on going for days and days until I realized we created something special in that very moment.
And also it was maybe the Federer 2.0 has entered the building type thing that, okay, now this was the one that actually loses also some, and that’s how he is. And that can happen and it’s part of life. And I think the more human side started coming out probably because just when you lose, people can relate a little bit more because we all lose in life, and before that I was winning for so long. Then of course the kids were born, then you become a parent, and then it’s even more relatable, I believe. And then like you said, I think people started to really know me because I’d been on tour for so long. So I think that’s why I had a lot of emotional support from a lot of the fans towards me.
I do think maybe there is something with my game that resonates a lot with the people. They feel that maybe if they come and watch me play that something special is going to happen. I play a different type of way. Maybe I was also the bridge from the older generation, one-handed backhand, effortless like everybody used to play back in the day, end of the ’90s, to the new powerful super-spinny, grunty sort of game that came in, and I was still the old-school-type guy. So I think sentimentally, I was probably a favorite of many because of my game.
Not serious, but we make them play.
Because I don’t want my kids to be the only kids in my circle not to play. And obviously I live in a tennis circle, and otherwise they’re the only kids not playing because all the other kids play tennis and this is their passion. So that’s why I say to the girls, who were not super in love with it in the beginning, like, “Guys, I mean you have to play a little bit.” So they all four play now.
I’ve tried to be more the GM than the coach, and I’ve told them I’m not the coach. And if I can be of help, great. And if you don’t want me out there, that’s okay too. But sometimes I can’t control myself, like at Stanford. I come in and go like, “Let me just quickly teach a little fundamental thing.”
Well, much more now than ever before. When they were younger, especially the girls, I would not tell them about my ranking or my successes, even when I was ranked number one. They would ask me: “How good is Stan?” “He’s obviously incredible. I mean, legendary player and he’s fantastic.” “What about Rafa?” “Yeah, he’s also, he’s super good.” And then they were like, “What about you?” “I mean, I’m okay.” I would really downplay it.
But now obviously I can’t do that sometimes anymore because their friends come up and say, like, “Oh, your dad did this, or this, did you know that?” And sometimes they’ve asked me as well. And then now I can be more open and honest about my accomplishments sometimes or my experiences. And I use it more as storytelling or as an experience to share it with them.
Yeah, so I’m happy I didn’t have a decline at the end. The decline came because of injuries, if you want. I don’t call it a decline, it’s just the struggles I guess. But now I’m happy. It’s a different life altogether. It’s like when I was in rehab, as an example. I liked rehab because it was something new in my life. It was a new challenge. It’s literally one step at a time or one movement at a time. And it’s the same with life now. I mean: a new space, navigating through this new life, with new projects, with my children especially. And I like this time. Even though I did say in interviews last year that I’ve never been more stressed. But this was not because of retirement. This was just about me caring for my children together with my wife and just trying to help them go through school and all the demands. And you care so dearly as a parent, you almost, I don’t want to say I want it too much. Not at all. I feel like I’m a super laid-back guy. But just I would wake up and go like, okay: I’ve got to be there. I’ve got to help them.
Exactly. And it’s not like I’ve been a parent of 14-year-olds or nine-year-old boys before. Every day is the first time for me.
Zach Baron is GQ’s senior special projects editor.
PRODUCTION CREDITS:
Photographs by Lachlan Bailey
Styled by Jim Moore
Grooming by Nathanael Röthlisberger
Tailoring by Irina Shishko
Set design by BG Porter for Owl and the Elephant
Produced by Annee Elliot