Chris Evert: The Life Story Behind Tennis' Ice Princess

Chris Evert never shouted on a tennis court. She never broke a racket, she never argued with the umpire, and she never showed her feelings in the way that other players did. She stood at the back of the court, she hit the ball with a clean two-handed backhand, and she waited. She waited for her opponent to make a mistake, and when the mistake came, she was ready. That calm, that patience, and that refusal to give away a point, made her one of the greatest players who ever lived.

She won eighteen Grand Slam singles titles, she won one hundred and fifty-seven singles titles in total, and she reached the semi-finals of a Grand Slam in fifty-two of the fifty-six majors she played. She won ninety percent of her matches, a record that no other player has matched. She did it without drama, without noise, and without ever changing who she was.

This is the story of a girl from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, who was taught tennis by her father, who became a teenage star, who carried American tennis for a generation, and who then became a voice for the sport she loved. It is a story about calm, about consistency, and about a woman who proved that quiet strength can be the strongest strength of all.

A Tennis Family in Fort Lauderdale

Christine Marie Evert was born on 21 December 1954 in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Her father, Jimmy Evert, was a tennis coach, and her mother, Colette, was also involved in the game. Tennis was the family business, and Chris grew up on the courts. She began to play when she was five, and she learned from her father, who was a patient and careful teacher. He taught her to hit the ball cleanly, to move well, and to think about the game.

Her father also taught her something else: that a tennis player should never show emotion on court. He believed that if you showed anger, or fear, or joy, your opponent would use it against you. So Chris learned to keep a calm face, no matter what was happening in the match. She would win a point, and her face would not change. She would lose a point, and her face would not change. The press called her the Ice Princess, and the name stuck, because it described exactly what people saw.

As a girl, she was not the strongest or the fastest player, but she was the most consistent. She rarely missed, and she rarely made a careless error. She played from the baseline, hitting the ball deep and safe, and she waited for her opponent to try something risky and fail. That style was not exciting in the usual way, but it was effective, and it was beautiful in its own quiet way. She was like a wall. You could hit the ball at her again and again, and it would come back, every time.

She played junior tournaments, and she won many of them. She was a star before she was a teenager, and people in American tennis knew her name. Her father kept her life as normal as possible, and he made sure she went to school and lived like other children. But tennis was always there, and it was clear, even when she was young, that she was going to be a great player.

A Teenager at the US Open

In 1971, when she was sixteen, Evert played at the US Open, and she reached the semi-finals. It was a remarkable result for a girl of her age, and it made her famous overnight. She was still in school, and she was playing against grown women, and she was beating them. The crowd loved her, because she was young, because she was calm, and because she played with a maturity that was far beyond her years.

She turned professional in 1972, and she began to win titles. She won her first Grand Slam at the French Open in 1974, beating Olga Morozova in the final, and she won Wimbledon that same year, beating Olga Morozova again. She was nineteen, and she was already a double Grand Slam champion. She also reached the final of the Australian Open, and she became world number one. It was a stunning start to a career, and it showed that she was not a one-time wonder.

In those early years, she also began her great rivalry with Martina Navratilova. They first played in 1973, and they would play eighty times over the next fifteen years. In the early years, Evert won more often, because she was steadier and because Navratilova was still learning to control her game. Evert’s calm was a weapon, and it was a weapon that Navratilova found hard to beat.

She also became a star in America. She was on magazine covers, she was on television, and she was the face of women’s tennis in the United States. She handled the fame with the same calm that she showed on court. She did not seek attention, and she did not enjoy the spotlight, but she accepted it as part of her job. She was a private person, and she kept her life as simple as she could.

The Queen of Clay

If there is one surface that belongs to Chris Evert, it is clay. She won the French Open seven times, more than any other woman in the open era, and she won one hundred and twenty-five matches in a row on clay, a record that is unlikely ever to be broken. On clay, her game was perfect. The ball bounced high and slow, and she had time to hit it cleanly, to move her opponent from side to side, and to wait for the mistake.

Her clay-court record is one of the great achievements in sport. She won the French Open in 1974, 1975, 1979, 1980, 1983, 1985, and 1986, and she reached the final many more times. She also won titles on clay in America, in Europe, and around the world. Opponents knew that beating her on clay was almost impossible, and many of them lost before they even walked onto the court, because they believed it.

She also won on other surfaces. She won Wimbledon three times, in 1974, 1976, and 1981, and she won the US Open six times, and the Australian Open twice. She was not only a clay-court player. She was a complete player, and she could win anywhere. But clay was her home, and it was the surface where her calm, her patience, and her consistency mattered most.

Her two-handed backhand was the key to her game. She was one of the first women to play a two-handed backhand, and she hit it with great control. It was not a powerful shot, but it was a reliable one, and it rarely missed. Her forehand was also steady, and her movement was smooth. She did not hit winners with power. She hit winners by placing the ball where her opponent was not, and by making her opponent run until she was tired.

Eighty Matches With Martina

The rivalry with Navratilova defined Evert’s career, and it defined women’s tennis for a generation. They played eighty times, and Evert won thirty-seven of those matches. They met in fourteen Grand Slam finals, and Evert won four of them. In the early years, Evert was ahead. In the 1980s, Navratilova took over, winning many of their matches and many Grand Slams. But Evert never gave up, and she kept fighting, even when Navratilova was at her best.

Their matches were a study in contrast. Evert was calm, steady, and patient. Navratilova was aggressive, emotional, and powerful. Evert played from the back. Navratilova played at the net. The crowd loved to watch them, because the matches were not only about tennis. They were about two different ways of living, and two different ways of playing the game.

Off the court, they became friends. They travelled together, they talked, and they supported each other. That friendship is one of the most remarkable parts of their story, because it shows that two rivals can respect each other and like each other. Evert has spoken about Navratilova with great warmth, and Navratilova has done the same. They were rivals, but they were also partners in making women’s tennis great.

Evert’s last Grand Slam title came at the French Open in 1986, when she was thirty-one, beating Navratilova in the final. It was a sweet win, because it came against her great rival, and because it came on clay, her favourite surface. She retired from professional tennis in 1989, after playing her last match at the US Open. She had been at the top for almost twenty years, and she left the game as one of its greatest champions.

Marriage, Family, and Life After Tennis

Evert’s life off the court was not always easy. She married the British tennis player John Lloyd in 1979, and the marriage ended in divorce in 1987. She later married the skier Andy Mill, and they had three sons together. That marriage also ended in divorce. She later married the golfer Greg Norman, and that marriage was short-lived. Her personal life was often in the press, and it was not always kind to her. She handled it with the same privacy and dignity that she had shown on court.

After retirement, she became a commentator for ESPN, and she became one of the most respected voices in tennis. She spoke about the game with knowledge and with calm, and fans trusted her opinion. She also worked with the Chris Evert Tennis Academy in Florida, helping young players to learn the game. She wanted to pass on what her father had taught her, and to give young players the same start that she had been given.

She also faced health problems in her family. Her sister Jeanne died of ovarian cancer, and Evert herself was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2022. She had surgery and treatment, and she spoke about it openly, encouraging other women to be aware of the signs. She recovered, and she continued to work and to speak. Her courage in facing illness, and in speaking about it, was the same courage she had shown on the court.

She has three sons, and she has spoken about how much they mean to her. She has also spoken about the balance between a career and a family, and about the choices she made. She does not regret her tennis career, and she does not regret her family. She sees both as a large part of who she is, and she is proud of both.

The Legacy of the Ice Princess

Chris Evert’s legacy is clear. She won eighteen Grand Slam singles titles, she won one hundred and fifty-seven titles in total, and she had a winning percentage of ninety percent, the highest in the history of the game. She reached the semi-finals of fifty-two of the fifty-six Grand Slams she played, a record of consistency that has never been matched. She was world number one for two hundred and sixty weeks, and she was the first woman to win one thousand matches.

But her legacy is more than numbers. She changed women’s tennis with her two-handed backhand, and she showed that a player could win by being steady and calm, not only by being powerful. She also showed that a player could be a star without losing her dignity, and that a woman could be strong and quiet at the same time. The name Ice Princess was meant to describe her coldness on court, but it also described her strength. She did not melt under pressure. She stayed cool, and she won.

She is in the International Tennis Hall of Fame, and she is regarded as one of the greatest players of all time. Her rivalry with Navratilova is still spoken of as the greatest rivalry in women’s tennis, and her clay-court record is still a standard that young players dream of matching. She is also remembered as a commentator, a coach, and a mother, and as a woman who faced cancer with courage.

Today, when young players watch old matches of Evert, they see a player who did not hit the ball the hardest, but who hit it the most accurately, and who never gave away a point. They see a player who understood that tennis is a game of patience, and that the player who makes fewer mistakes often wins. That lesson is still true, and it is a lesson that Chris Evert taught better than anyone.

The Two-Handed Backhand That Changed the Game

Chris Evert was one of the first women to play a two-handed backhand, and that shot changed women’s tennis. Before her, most women played a one-handed backhand, and they hit it with less power and less control. Evert’s two-handed backhand was clean, it was reliable, and it rarely missed. She could hit it down the line, she could hit it cross-court, and she could hit it with depth, forcing her opponent back. It was not a powerful shot, but it was a shot that won points, because it never gave her opponent an easy ball.

Her father taught her the shot when she was a child, and he taught her to hit it with both hands for control. At the time, some coaches thought it was wrong, and they said a player should hit with one hand. Evert did not listen. She kept hitting with two hands, and she proved that it worked. Young girls around the world watched her, and they began to hit with two hands as well. Today, almost every woman on the tour hits a two-handed backhand, and that is largely because of Evert. She changed the game with a shot that she learned as a child in Florida.

The backhand was also a symbol of her game. It was steady, it was patient, and it was reliable. She did not try to hit winners with it. She tried to keep the ball in play, to move her opponent, and to wait for the mistake. That patience was her greatest strength, and it was the reason she won so many matches. She understood that tennis is not only about hitting winners. It is also about not making mistakes, and about making your opponent make them. Her backhand did that, point after point, match after match, year after year.

A Commentator, a Coach, and a Mother

After retiring in 1989, Evert became a commentator for ESPN, and she became one of the most respected voices in tennis. She spoke about the game with knowledge, and with calm, and fans trusted her opinion. She did not shout, and she did not try to be entertaining in the usual sense. She explained the game in simple words, and she helped viewers to understand what they were watching. That clarity was a gift, and it made her a great commentator, just as it had made her a great player.

She also worked with the Chris Evert Tennis Academy in Florida, helping young players to learn the game. She wanted to pass on what her father had taught her, and to give young players the same start that she had been given. She taught them to hit the ball cleanly, to move well, and to think about the game. She also taught them to be calm, and to never show emotion on court, just as her father had taught her. That lesson is still taught at her academy today, and it is a part of her legacy.

She raised three sons, and she spoke about how much they meant to her. She balanced her work as a commentator and a coach with her life as a mother, and she did it with the same calm that she had shown on court. She did not seek attention for her family life, and she kept it private, but she was proud of her sons, and she was proud of the life she had built after tennis. She was a champion, a mother, and a teacher, and she was all three at the same time.

The American Star and the Weight of Expectation

Evert was the face of American women’s tennis for almost twenty years, and that brought a kind of pressure that few players understand. She was on magazine covers, she was on television, and she was expected to win every time she played. In America, tennis fans loved her because she was calm, because she was consistent, and because she was American. She carried that expectation with the same calm that she showed on court, and she rarely complained about it. She understood that being a star was part of her job, and she accepted it, even if she did not enjoy it.

She also had to deal with the press, which followed her personal life closely. Her marriages, her divorces, and her relationships were written about in newspapers, and she had to live with that attention. She handled it with privacy and with dignity, and she did not share everything with the public. She kept a clear line between her work and her home, and that line helped her to stay sane. In a world where many famous people share everything, she kept her private life private, and that was a wise choice.

Her calm was not only a tennis skill. It was a life skill, and it helped her to survive fame, to survive pressure, and to survive the hard moments in her personal life. She did not panic, she did not shout, and she did not give up. She stayed steady, and she kept going, one day at a time. That steadiness is a large part of why she is still respected today, long after she retired from tennis.

The 1970s: A Teenage Star in a Changing America

Evert became famous in the 1970s, a decade when women’s tennis was changing fast. The women’s tour was new, prize money was growing, and female players were fighting for equal pay and equal respect. Evert was at the centre of that change, even if she did not seek it. She was a star, and she was a woman, and she was playing in a world that was learning to take women’s sport seriously. She handled that moment with calm, and she let her tennis speak for her. She did not make speeches, and she did not lead protests, but her success helped the women’s game to grow, because it showed that women could draw crowds, and that they deserved to be paid.

She also became a fashion icon in the 1970s, with her blonde hair, her white dresses, and her calm style. She was photographed for magazines, and she was admired for her looks as well as for her tennis. That attention was a double-edged sword, because it brought fame, but it also meant that people judged her for her appearance, not only for her game. She handled it with dignity, and she did not let it distract her from tennis. She was a player first, and a celebrity second, and that order mattered to her.

The 1970s were also the decade when she met Navratilova, and when their rivalry began. The two women would define women’s tennis for the next fifteen years, and they would make it one of the most popular sports in America. Evert was the American star, and Navratilova was the defector, and their matches were followed by millions. It was a rivalry that made tennis bigger, and it was a rivalry that Evert handled with grace, even when she was losing.

My Take:

I think Chris Evert is easy to underrate, and that is unfair, because her achievements are among the greatest in tennis history. She did not play with power, she did not shout, and she did not make headlines for her behaviour. She played quietly, she won quietly, and she went home quietly. That quietness can make people forget how great she was. But when you look at the numbers, you cannot forget. Eighteen Grand Slam titles, one hundred and fifty-seven titles in total, a ninety percent winning record, and a clay-court winning streak of one hundred and twenty-five matches. Those are numbers that belong to a legend, and I think she deserves to be spoken of as one.

What I admire most is her calm. Her father taught her not to show emotion on court, and she lived by that lesson for her whole career. I try to imagine what it feels like to play a Grand Slam final, to be losing, to be tired, and to keep a calm face. That takes a kind of discipline that is hard to describe. It is not natural. It is learned, and it is practised, and it becomes a part of who you are. Evert’s calm was not coldness. It was control, and it was strength. It told her opponent that she would not break, no matter what happened.

I also admire her consistency. She reached the semi-finals of fifty-two of the fifty-six Grand Slams she played. Think about that for a moment. In almost every major tournament she entered, over almost twenty years, she reached the last four. That is not luck. That is a player who was ready every time, who took every match seriously, and who never had a bad day at the wrong time. I think consistency is the most underrated quality in sport, because it is not exciting. But it is the quality that separates the great from the good, and Evert had it more than anyone.

Her clay-court record is the part of her story that I find most astonishing. One hundred and twenty-five wins in a row on clay, and seven French Open titles. On clay, she was almost unbeatable, and she knew it. Opponents walked onto the court against her on clay and they already felt beaten. That is a psychological advantage that is hard to earn, and she earned it by winning again and again, year after year. I think about the patience that clay demands, the long rallies, the waiting, and I see that clay was made for her game. She was patient, she was steady, and she was willing to wait for the mistake.

The rivalry with Navratilova is another part I think about often. They played eighty times, and they were friends off the court. I love that they could be rivals and friends at the same time. It shows that competition does not have to be hatred, and that you can want to beat someone and still respect them. Evert lost many of those matches in the 1980s, when Navratilova was at her best, but she never stopped fighting. She won the French Open in 1986 against Navratilova, when she was thirty-one, and that win tells me that she never gave up, even when the balance had shifted.

I also think about her life after tennis, and how she handled it with the same calm. She became a commentator, she coached young players, and she raised three sons. She faced divorce, she faced the death of her sister, and she faced her own cancer diagnosis in 2022. She faced each of those things with dignity, and she spoke about them openly when it could help others. That is a kind of courage that is different from the courage on a tennis court, but it is just as real. I admire her for it.

If I have to be honest, I sometimes wish she had been louder, or more dramatic, because then more people would remember her. But that was not who she was, and I respect that she stayed true to herself. She did not change to please the crowd. She played her game, she lived her life, and she let the results speak for her. The results speak loudly enough. Eighteen Grand Slams, one hundred and fifty-seven titles, and a winning record that has never been matched. That is enough.

What I learn from her is that quiet strength is real strength. We live in a world that celebrates noise, and that thinks the loudest person is the strongest. Evert shows that the opposite can be true. The quiet person, the steady person, the person who does not show emotion and does not give away a point, can be the strongest of all. I think that is a lesson for young people who are told to be louder, to be more dramatic, to be more visible. You do not have to be loud to be great. You have to be steady, you have to be ready, and you have to keep going.

I also learn from her that patience wins. Her game was built on patience. She waited for the mistake, she waited for the right ball, and she waited for the right moment. She did not rush, and she did not panic. That patience is a skill, and it is a skill that applies to life as much as to tennis. Many of us want results quickly, and we get frustrated when they do not come. Evert teaches me to wait, to work, and to trust that the work will pay off.

In the end, I think Chris Evert’s story is a story about a woman who won by being herself. She was calm, she was consistent, she was patient, and she was strong. She did not try to be Navratilova, and she did not try to be anyone else. She was Chris Evert, and that was enough to win eighteen Grand Slams. I hope she is remembered as one of the greatest players who ever lived, because that is what she was, and her quiet greatness deserves to be spoken of loudly.

I also think about her sister Jeanne, and about the loss that shaped her later life. Jeanne died of ovarian cancer, and Evert herself was diagnosed with the same illness in 2022. She had surgery and treatment, and she spoke about it openly, encouraging other women to be aware. That courage is the same courage she showed on the court, and it is a part of her story that many people admire. She faced illness with dignity, and she used her experience to help others. That is a kind of strength that goes beyond tennis, and it is a strength I respect deeply.

What I learn from her is that consistency is a form of greatness. She reached the semi-finals of fifty-two of the fifty-six Grand Slams she played, and that is not luck. That is a player who was ready every time, who took every match seriously, and who never had a bad day at the wrong time. I think about my own life, and about how hard it is to be consistent, to show up every day and to do your best. Evert did that for almost twenty years, and she did it without drama. That is a lesson I will carry with me.

In the end, I think Chris Evert will be remembered as one of the greatest players who ever lived, as a woman who won by being calm, steady, and patient, and as a person who faced life’s hardest moments with dignity. She won eighteen Grand Slams, she won one hundred and fifty-seven titles, and she had a winning record that has never been matched. But I hope she is also remembered as a kind and quiet champion, a player who taught the world that strength does not have to be loud. That is a story worth telling, and it is a story that deserves to be heard.

I also think about the way she taught young players at her academy, and about how she passed on her father’s lessons. She taught them to hit cleanly, to move well, and to stay calm, and those lessons are still taught today. That is a legacy that goes beyond titles. She is not only a former champion. She is a teacher, and her teaching will help young players for many years to come. I think that is a wonderful way to end a career: by giving back, and by helping others to learn what you learned.

What I take from her, in the end, is that quiet strength is real strength, and that patience wins. She waited for the mistake, she waited for the right ball, and she waited for the right moment, and she won eighteen Grand Slams by doing so. She did not rush, and she did not panic. She trusted her game, and she trusted herself, and that trust paid off. I hope readers remember her not only for the numbers, but for the calm, the consistency, and the dignity with which she played. That is a legacy to be proud of, and it is a story worth telling in full.

I also think about the 1970s, and about how Evert became a star in a decade when women’s tennis was fighting for respect. She did not lead protests, and she did not make speeches, but her success helped the women’s game to grow, because it showed that women could draw crowds and deserved to be paid. That quiet contribution matters, and it is a part of her legacy that is easy to miss. She changed tennis by playing it well, and by being a star, and that is a powerful way to change a sport.

Another thing I keep coming back to is her father’s lesson about not showing emotion. At first, I thought it was cold, but now I see it as a skill. She learned to control her feelings, to stay calm under pressure, and to make good decisions when others were panicking. That skill helped her on court, and it helped her in life, when she faced divorce, illness, and loss. She did not fall apart. She stayed steady, and she kept going. I think that is a skill worth learning, and it is one that Evert taught better than anyone.

I also keep thinking about her winning percentage, because ninety percent is a number that is almost impossible to understand. She won nine out of every ten matches she played, over almost twenty years, against the best players in the world. That means that when she walked onto a court, she was almost certain to win, and her opponents knew it. That certainty is a psychological weapon, and it is one that she earned by winning again and again. I try to imagine what it feels like to be that consistent, to be that reliable, and to know that your game will hold up under pressure, match after match, year after year. It takes a kind of mental strength that is hard to describe, and it is a large part of why she is one of the greatest players who ever lived.

Another thought that stays with me is how she handled being a teenage star. She was sixteen when she reached the US Open semi-finals, and she was nineteen when she won two Grand Slams, and she did it all while still going to school and living a normal life. That is a lot of pressure for a teenager, and many young stars break under it. Evert did not break. She stayed calm, she stayed focused, and she kept winning. Her father helped her by keeping her life as normal as possible, and by teaching her to stay calm, and that support mattered. I think about young stars today, and I hope they have someone like Jimmy Evert in their lives, someone who keeps them grounded, and who reminds them that tennis is only part of life.

A third thought is about her clay-court record, and how it will likely never be broken. One hundred and twenty-five wins in a row on clay, and seven French Open titles, are records that belong to another era, when one player could dominate a surface for a decade. Today, the game is more competitive, and no one player dominates clay in that way. Evert’s record is a reminder of a time when a single player could be almost unbeatable on her favourite surface, and it is a record that young players dream of matching, even if they know they probably never will. That is a legacy worth celebrating, and it is one that will be spoken of for a long time.

Frequently Asked Questions

How many Grand Slam singles titles did Chris Evert win?

She won eighteen Grand Slam singles titles, including seven French Opens, six US Opens, three Wimbledons, and two Australian Opens. She also won one hundred and fifty-seven singles titles in total.

What was Chris Evert’s record on clay?

She won one hundred and twenty-five matches in a row on clay, and she won the French Open seven times. It is one of the great records in tennis, and it has never been matched.

How many times did Chris Evert play Martina Navratilova?

They played each other eighty times between 1973 and 1988, and Evert won thirty-seven of those matches. They met in fourteen Grand Slam finals and became close friends off the court.

Why was Chris Evert called the Ice Princess?

She was called the Ice Princess because she never showed emotion on court. Her father taught her to keep a calm face, so her opponents could not tell what she was feeling.

When did Chris Evert retire from tennis?

She retired in 1989, after playing her last match at the US Open. She had been a top player for almost twenty years and was world number one for two hundred and sixty weeks.

Did Chris Evert have cancer?

Yes, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2022, after her sister Jeanne died of the same illness. She had surgery and treatment, spoke openly about it, and recovered.