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A lot of people probably think of John McEnroe as a tennis analyst on television, which makes sense. Approximately a quarter of the U.S. population was born after 9/11. Plenty more, including me, were in diapers when the former world number one was hoisting trophies at Wimbledon (three times in singles, five times in doubles) or winning big at the U.S. Open (four times in singles and doubles each). Which means a lot of us never got to witness the hall of famer yell at an umpire, play in a rock band, or host his own TV show—touchstones in what’s been one of the most varied careers that sports has ever seen.
Even weirder, though, is that some people might not even know McEnroe for tennis at all, but as the narrator of Mindy Kaling’s Netflix series Never Have I Ever. Kaling’s show is about an Indian-American girl named Devi struggling with everything teenage life can throw at her. (As McEnroe relates below, Kaling’s father is a huge McEnroe fan, as was Devi’s late father on the show.) McEnroe recently chatted with me over Zoom from his home in New York, where he’s covering one of the most exciting U.S. Opens in recent history. Our conversation quickly encompassed his career shifts, favorite catchphrases, and infamous temper.
GQ*:* Let’s start here: John McEnroe is not the most obvious narrator for a TV series about the adolescence of an Indian American girl. How did you link up with Mindy Kaling?
John McEnroe: I was at a Vanity Fair party a few years back, my wife Patty and I. Mindy was walking out. She was like, "Oh my God, I have this idea. I want you to be the narrator in this series I'm going to do." I was like, "Yeah, sounds great." I've had a lot of [offers] in the past; very few come to fruition. In this case, strangely enough, it actually did happen.
You’ve done cameos in other shows: Curb Your Enthusiasm, 30 Rock, Saturday Night Live. This one must have seemed a little out of left field.
It's like, "How the hell did this happen?" Me being in the head of a young Indian-American girl trying to navigate through high school. Mindy told me that her parents, her father in particular, is a big tennis fan, so that's how she came up with it. And the series just got renewed for a third season, so it seems like it's been a win all around.
You’ve now got a mockumentary and a Squarespace website promoting your services as a voiceover artist. Can I go on the site and book you for real?
If the price is right! I would say, yes, you can actually do that. People often recognize me by my voice before they recognize my face.
Voiceover work could be a new career for you.
It’s been in my mind for a while. I was on the seniors tour for 25 years after playing 15 years on the main tour. As you get older, and you're less able to move physically, it does seem to be appealing to try things that don’t require a lot of running.
Never Have I Ever is about the difficulties of being a teenager, and your voice is kind of the soundtrack. What was your soundtrack when you were growing up?
Led Zeppelin II. Zeppelin was my favorite band. When I was a kid, you always had music blaring when you're practicing, to try to lift you up. It's like having a shotgun of espresso. I've often said the greatest perk I ever got from being the best at something was I got to meet all these legends. The British rock stars watch Wimbledon. They actually know tennis. You're like, "What? Keith Richards?" They're like, "Oh, I love your work at Wimbledon." I'm like, "Oh my God."
When you're caught up in the middle of trying to be the best at something, it's a little difficult to enjoy everything around you. As you get older, your perspective gets better.
Was there a voice in your head when you were coming up?
There's no easy answer to that. Half of your mind is telling you that you can be the best. And there's a devil on the other side telling you what won't happen; it's almost wishing bad things upon you. You have to battle that—not to mention who you're playing. I spent a lot of time thinking about strategy. If I had a match at eight o'clock at night, I'd sit around in my apartment all day, just trying to conserve energy. Then, as soon as I came out on court, I wanted to jump on the guy, the first point of the match, come out guns blazing. And I think I did a good job at that.
I remember I used to try to go on the practice court and say, "All right, today I'm going to be like Björn [Borg]. I'm not going to get upset." Even in practice, I couldn't do it. So how the hell was I going to do it in a match, with a bunch of people calling out, “You jerk, McEnroe. Just play.” And the temperature’s like it is today in New York, 95 degrees? Try keeping your temper in check, when someone's yelling at you, and you're playing someone who wants to beat your ass. It's not easy.
It’s not easy.
I'm amazed at how well people handle it. I'm more like the average Joe that flips out, man. Just gets overheated, for lack of a better phrase. I always felt like I could relate to people because I was acting the way most people would.
Well, one thing when people think, when people think about “John McEnroe,” the persona, is what’s essentially now a catchphrase: ‘You can't be serious.’ When did you realize it had entered popular culture?
You know, I really only said it once on the main tour. That was 1981. I was 22. I played another 11 years. It literally turned into…
A phenomenon.
If I went through one day where someone didn't say it to me, it was amazing.
No shit.
To this day, it's like that. For 25 years I played on the seniors tour. I'd go out, play pretty well, hit some great shots, and people would be like, "great, whatever." Then I'd go out and say, "You can't be serious!" And they'd be, "Okay, fine, we can leave now!"
You have to be able to look at the glass half full and go, You know something? I know I could play, and that is, deep down, I believe, the reason why people care. You're either going to accept that or you're going to have a hard time going through your life, is the way I saw it.
When you're being directed for the Netflix series, are you ever told to be more like “John McEnroe”?
My favorite actor is Jack Nicholson. He always seemed like he was being himself, but somehow wasn't him. And you still believed what he was doing. I'm not always “you cannot be serious.” There are other sides [to me]. That's why this works, in a way, because this high school girl is a bit of a hothead, but she's got a lot of different emotions, obviously, as we all do.
And as a teenager, you’re trying out different personas to get an idea of who you are. I interviewed Roger Federer for this magazine. One thing he talked about was how, in order to go on court and become “Roger Federer,” he would put on a mask, figuratively speaking. And he said Stan Wawrinka did the same thing, Rafael Nadal did the same thing. Did you do something similar?
Well, I'm not physically imposing. I wasn't blowing people off the court with my biceps. I felt like it had to come from within; I had to come out with an energy that would freak my opponents out. The intensity. The concentration. Whatever it took.
My parents were together for 59 years, God rest their souls. Where I grew up, let's just say it was a loud dinner table. My father would say, “You don't need to yell at the umpires. You're better than them. Just go out and play.” Then he'd go [shouting] "You're better than them! Just go out and play!" I was taken aback when I went to Wimbledon the first time, thinking, God, they're really polite here, they're so quiet, it's unbelievable. And then they probably looked at me and thought, Oh my God, here's this Irish-American kid who talks too loud.
Everyone has a fear of failure. How do you deal with that? It's changing, and I think for the better, but guys, when I grew up, if you cried, that was a sign of weakness. If there were times when I felt like I was going to lose it, because things were going so badly, it was almost easier to hide behind getting angry. That's not the only reason. There were times when I was genuinely angry, and other times where I overdid it. People think I did it deliberately so I could throw off my opponent. I always thought, if I go up to an umpire and tell him he sucks, that umpire's not going to give me any calls, so why would an opponent be upset about that?
But I’ve watched some of those matches. You were often able to zero right back on your focus. You kept your edge.
And that's what pissed people off—that I actually still played hard instead of going away. Do I wish I could have loved the game as much as Federer? Yeah, I don't know how he does it. It's amazing. I always looked at Jimmy Connors, and I look at Nadal now, and it's like, I wish I could try harder. Because I thought I tried pretty hard, but compared to them, it didn't seem like I was trying hard enough. There are always things you can do better. And I wish I'd done some things differently. Ultimately, I was out there to try to win a match. I didn't want to lose that edge. At least as I've gotten older, I think I've gotten—hopefully—better as a person. And my perspective is better.
And maybe that’s why—
Maybe that’s why I got the chance to be a narrator on a series about an Indian-American girl growing up.
The conversation has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Rosecrans Baldwin’s latest book is Everything Now: Lessons From the City-State of Los Angeles.
