After 28 Years and Five Grand Slams, Maria Sharapova Steps Away From the Game

Today I published a piece announcing my retirement.

I wanted to read through some parts of it

and offer some reflections.

[light piano music]

All right, shall we?

How do you leave behind the only life you've ever known?

How do you walk away from the courts

you've trained on since you were a little girl,

the game that you love, one that brought you

untold tears and unspeakable joys,

a sport where you found a family

along with fans who rallied behind you

for more than 28 years?

Twenty-eight years is a really long time.

I'm new to this, so please forgive me.

Tennis, I'm saying goodbye.

To have that moment of reflection was very special.

It's nice to have it on paper.

It makes it very real and honest,

and I guess official.

When I was six, I traveled across the globe

to Florida with my father.

The whole world seemed gigantic back then,

the airplane, the airport, the wide expanse of America,

everything was enormous.

As was my parents' sacrifice.

This photo, I was about six years old,

and it was my first day spent on the Florida beach.

They seemed incredible and beautiful

and pristine and special and rich.

I was just internally happy

and happy to be in this new country

and this new world surrounded by children my age.

And really just playing tennis,

just playing this sport.

The first courts I ever played on

were uneven concrete with faded lines.

They were awful.

Over time, the became mighty clay

and the most gorgeous manicured grass

your feet could ever step upon.

But never in my wildest dreams

did I think I'd ever win on the

sport's biggest stages and on every surface.

Wimbledon seemed like a good place to start.

I was a naive 17-year-old still collectsing stamps

and didn't understand the magnitude

of my victory until I was older.

And I'm glad I didn't.

You always think of what your first

successful moment might look or feel like,

but you get there, and it is

very different because it's real.

It's become a reality.

And, yes, you won this huge thing, but life goes on.

My edge, though, was never about

feeling superior to other players.

It was about feeling like I was

on the verge of falling off a cliff.

Which is why I constantly return to the court

to figure out how to keep climbings.

I sometimes wonder if athletes feel the same way that I do

because I've never felt this consistent urge

to be overly confident and to feel like

I have achieved everything I ever wanted to achieve,

'cause I feel like it's so easy to just fall from that.

Confidence is beautiful, but it's like

how often do you really feel confident

for a long period of time?

These courts revealed my true essence.

Behind the photo shoots and the pretty tennis dresses,

they exposed my imperfections,

every wrinkle, every drop of sweat.

They tested my character, my will,

my ability to channel my raw emotions

into a place where they worked for me

instead of against me.

I would get on a court,

and it was as if everything didn't exist.

It was just my time on the court

to improve, to get better,

and to work towards being a champion.

The sport was able to expose some

of my greatest characteristics.

The characteristic of never giving up,

of fighting for every point,

of going after my dreams.

When I'm sweating, and I'm pumping my fists,

and I don't look very pretty, but I look tough.

And I love that version of myself.

Listening to this voice so intimately,

anticipating its every ebb and flow

is also how I accepted those final signals when they came.

Shoulder injuries are nothing new for me.

Over time my tendons have frayed like a string.

I've had multiple surgeries

and spent countless months in physical therapy.

I share this not to garner pity,

but to paint my new reality.

My body had become a distraction.

It felt like a sum of so many days and experiences,

doctor appointments for my shoulder

to come to this decision.

If only there were enough pages

that we could have printed out,

or I could explain the things

that I had to go through in order to just get myself

to playing, to getting on the court,

to practicing to play in a competitive match.

And guess that this was the best way that I could.

Tennis showed me the world,

and it showed me what I was made of.

It's how I tested myself, and how I measured my growth.

And so, in whatever I might choose for

my next chapter, my next mountain, I'll still be pushing.

I'll still be climbings.

I'll still be growing.

The end.

Is it worth it?

Like that question that I wrote in this essay,

like is it worth it?

Throughout 28 years of my life,

it was completely worth it.

It was never a doubt.

It was never a question.

And I would just keep going.

And that was an important question

that I asked myself throughout my entire career.

If I look at myself in the future,

this is what I would probably say,

you have a long way to go,

and you will form many more incredible

memories in your life.

They will come with ups and downs

as they did in the previous 28 years of your life.

But use each moment to navigate forward.

Don't forget who you are along the way,

and good things will always happen

'cause they usually do.

Or this is all I got for now.

Bye.

I'm such a dork.

[Woman] All right.

[Cameraman claps and drowns out his words]

[Maria] Yay.