Juan Martín del Potro: The Life Story Behind Argentina's Gentle Giant

Juan Martín del Potro was the tallest man on the tennis court, and the gentlest. He stood nearly two metres tall, he hit a forehand that sounded like a gunshot, and he was loved by crowds in every country he played in, because he was kind, because he was humble, and because he never complained, even when his body was breaking down around him. He won the US Open in 2009, beating Roger Federer in the final, and ending Federer’s five-year reign in New York, and for a moment, it looked as if he would become one of the great champions of his generation. Then the injuries came, one after another, to his wrist, to his knee, to his body, and he spent the next decade fighting to come back, again and again, until his body could fight no more.

His story begins in Tandil, a small city in Argentina, where a boy who was tall for his age found tennis, and where he learned, from his family, that hard work and humility were the things that mattered most. It is a story of a young man who reached the top at twenty-one, of a champion who was loved by everyone, of surgeries and comebacks that tested his spirit, of Olympic medals won for his country, and of a farewell in Buenos Aires that brought a whole nation to tears.

This is the life of Juan Martín del Potro, the Tower of Tandil, the gentle giant, and the man who never gave up.

Tandil: A Small City and a Tall Boy

Juan Martín del Potro was born on 23 September 1988 in Tandil, Argentina, a city in the province of Buenos Aires, known for its hills, its stone, and its quiet way of life. His father, Daniel del Potro, was a veterinarian, and his mother, Patricia, was a schoolteacher, and the family was close and loving, and Juan Martín grew up in a home where sport was a part of life, and where hard work was expected, and where humility was valued above all else. He was a tall boy, taller than his classmates, and he played many sports, but tennis was the one that captured him, because he loved the feeling of hitting the ball, and because he had a natural gift for it that his coaches noticed at once.

He started playing tennis when he was seven years old, at a local club in Tandil, and he was good at it from the start, because he was tall, and because he was strong, and because he hit the ball with a power that surprised older players. He was also a quiet boy, and a kind one, and he did not like to show off, and he did not like to boast, and those qualities stayed with him for his whole life, even when he became famous, and even when the whole world was watching him. He was coached, in his early years, by Marcelo Gomez, a local coach who understood him, and who taught him to be patient, and to work hard, and to respect the game.

He played junior tournaments in Argentina and in South America, and he won them, and the tennis world began to notice the tall boy from Tandil, a boy who hit his forehand harder than anyone his age, and who moved well for a man of his height. He was not a showman, and he was not a star in the making, in the way that some young players are, but he was a worker, and he was a fighter, and he was a boy who loved the game, and who was willing to do the work that the game demanded. He turned professional in 2005, when he was sixteen years old, and he began his journey to the top of the game, a journey that would take him to New York, to London, and to Rio, and that would make him one of the most loved players in the history of the sport.

He was also a boy who loved his home, and who never forgot Tandil, even when he became famous, and even when he lived in other cities, and he returned there often, to see his family, and to walk the streets where he had grown up, and to remember the boy he had been. It was a home that shaped him, and a home that kept him humble, and a home that he carried with him wherever he went.

The Forehand, the Tower, and the Rise

Del Potro’s forehand was the most feared shot in tennis for a decade, and it was feared for a simple reason: it was hit harder than any other forehand in the game, and it was hit with a flat, fast trajectory that gave his opponents almost no time to react. He was nearly two metres tall, and he hit the ball from a great height, and the ball came down on his opponents like a hammer, and they could not handle it. He was known as the Tower of Tandil, a nickname that described both his height and his power, and that the crowds loved, because it was a nickname that fit him perfectly.

He rose quickly through the rankings, winning his first tournaments in 2008, and reaching the quarter-finals of the US Open in the same year, and the tennis world began to understand that it had a new star, a star who was tall, and powerful, and gentle, and who played the game with a smile. He was not loud, and he was not showy, and he did not seek attention, but his tennis spoke for him, and it spoke in a language that everyone understood: that here was a player who could beat anyone, on any day, if his forehand was working, and that his forehand was working most days.

In 2009, he won the US Open, beating Roger Federer in the final in five sets, a victory that shocked the tennis world, because Federer had won the tournament five years in a row, and because no one had beaten him in New York for half a decade. Del Potro was twenty years old, and he was playing in his first Grand Slam final, and he was facing the greatest player of all time, and he won, because he believed he could win, and because he hit his forehand with a courage that Federer could not stop. It was one of the great upsets in the history of the sport, and it was a victory that made del Potro a champion, and a star, and a hero in Argentina, where the whole country celebrated as if it had won the World Cup.

He was, after that victory, the youngest man to win the US Open since Pete Sampras, and he was ranked as one of the best players in the world, and the future seemed to have no limits. He was tall, he was strong, he was young, and he was loved, and the tennis world believed that he would win many more Grand Slam titles, and that he would become one of the great champions of his generation. It was a belief that seemed reasonable, and it was a belief that would be tested, again and again, by injuries that no one could have foreseen.

The Wrist Injuries and the First Long Goodbye

The injuries began in 2010, only a few months after his US Open victory, when del Potro hurt his right wrist, the wrist that powered his great forehand, and he needed surgery, and he missed most of the season. It was a devastating blow, because he was twenty-one years old, and he was a Grand Slam champion, and he was supposed to be at the start of his career, not in a hospital bed, recovering from an operation. He worked hard to come back, and he returned in 2011, and he played well, and he won tournaments, but the wrist was never quite the same, and the fear of another injury was always there, in the back of his mind.

He hurt the wrist again, and he needed more surgery, in 2014 and 2015, and he missed long periods of time, and he fell in the rankings, and the tennis world began to wonder if he would ever come back, and if the Tower of Tandil had fallen for the last time. He was a player who had been to the top, and who had been brought down by his own body, and the fall was a hard one, because he was still young, and because he had so much more to give, and because the game had moved on without him, and the young players who had once looked up to him were now beating him.

He also had problems with his knee, and with other parts of his body, and he had surgeries that kept him off the court for months, and each time he came back, he was a little slower, and a little less powerful, and the wins became harder to find. But he never complained, and he never gave up, and he kept working, and he kept believing, and he kept coming back, because he loved the game, and because he loved the crowds, and because he did not want to retire, not yet, not while he still had something to give. It was a courage that the tennis world admired, and that the crowds loved, because they could see, in every comeback, how much he wanted to play, and how much the game meant to him.

The Olympics: Silver in Rio and Bronze in London

Del Potro’s Olympic career was one of the proudest parts of his life, because he played for Argentina, and because he gave everything he had for his country, and because the crowds in Rio and in London loved him for it. At the London Olympics in 2012, he won the bronze medal, beating Novak Djokovic in the match for third place, a victory that meant a great deal to him, because it was won for Argentina, and because it was won against one of the best players in the world. He stood on the podium, and he cried, and the Argentine fans cried with him, because they knew how much the medal meant to a man who had been through so much, and who had fought so hard to come back.

At the Rio Olympics in 2016, he did even better. He beat Djokovic in the first round, in one of the great upsets of the tournament, and he beat Rafael Nadal in the semi-final, in a long and emotional match, and he reached the final, where he faced Andy Murray, the British player who was the defending champion. He lost the final in four sets, and he won the silver medal, and he cried again, because he had come so close to gold, and because he had given everything he had, and because the silver medal was a prize that he had earned with his heart, and with his fight. The crowds in Rio loved him, and they chanted his name, and they treated him as if he were one of their own, because they could see, in his play, the same passion that they felt for their own country.

The Olympic medals were special to del Potro, because they were won for Argentina, and not only for himself, and because they showed that he could still compete with the best players in the world, even after all the injuries, and even after all the surgeries. He was a man who had been written off, and who had come back, and who had won medals for his country, and that is a story that the people of Argentina will never forget, because it is a story of a hero who fought for them, and who never gave up, even when his body was telling him to stop.

He also helped Argentina to win the Davis Cup in 2016, the first time the country had ever won the competition, and it was a victory that meant the world to him, because it was won as a team, and because it was won for Argentina, and because it was a prize that he had dreamed of since he was a boy in Tandil. He played a key role in the final, against Croatia, and he won matches that helped his team to victory, and when the final point was won, he celebrated with his teammates, and with the Argentine fans, and it was one of the happiest moments of his career.

Indian Wells, the Comeback, and World Number Three

In 2018, del Potro had the best season of his comeback, and one of the best seasons of his whole career. He won the Indian Wells tournament, beating Roger Federer in the final in three sets, a victory that showed that he could still beat the greatest player in the world, even after all the injuries, and even after all the years away from the top. He reached the final of the US Open, losing to Novak Djokovic, and he reached the world number three ranking, the highest of his career, and he played tennis that reminded everyone of the player he had been in 2009, a player who could beat anyone, on any day.

It was a remarkable comeback, and it was a comeback that the tennis world celebrated, because it was a story of a man who had been to the bottom, and who had climbed back to the top, not once, but many times, and who had done it with a smile, and with a humility that made everyone love him. He was 29 years old, and he was playing the best tennis of his life, and the crowds loved him, and the other players respected him, and the future seemed bright again, as if the injuries were finally behind him, and as if the best years were still to come.

But the injuries were not behind him. Later in 2018, he hurt his knee, and he needed surgery, and he missed months of tennis, and he came back, and he hurt the knee again, and he needed more surgery, and the cycle began again, the cycle that had defined his career since 2010. He played his last professional matches in 2022, and he announced his retirement, because his body could no longer take the pain, and because he could no longer play the game he loved, and because it was time to stop, even though he did not want to. It was a sad ending, but it was an ending that he had fought against for a decade, and that he had delayed for as long as humanly possible.

The Last Challenge and a Farewell in Buenos Aires

In December 2024, del Potro played a farewell match in Buenos Aires, against Novak Djokovic, in an exhibition called The Last Challenge, and the whole of Argentina watched, because it was the last time they would see their hero play tennis in his own country. He lost the match, but the result did not matter, because the night was about saying goodbye, and about thanking the fans, and about celebrating a career that had brought so much joy to so many people. He cried, and the crowd cried, and Djokovic hugged him, and the two men stood together on the court, and the moment was one of the most moving in the history of Argentine sport.

He has spoken, since his retirement, about the pain he still feels in his knee, and about the difficulty of walking, and of living a normal life, and about how the injuries have affected him even after he stopped playing. It is a sad truth, and it is a truth that many athletes face, that the body pays a price for greatness, and that the price is paid long after the crowds have gone home. Del Potro paid that price, and he paid it with a grace that the world admires, and with an honesty that is rare, because he has not hidden his pain, and he has not pretended that it does not hurt. He has told the truth, and the truth has made people love him even more.

Today, he lives in Argentina, and he is a hero to his people, and a legend in the tennis world, and a man who is remembered not only for his forehand, but for his kindness, and for his courage, and for his refusal to give up. His story is not only about tennis. It is about a gentle giant who fought for a decade, and who never complained, and who never gave up, and who taught the world that the greatest victory is not always the one you win on the court, but the one you win in your heart, by refusing to quit.

The Gentle Giant: Why the Crowds Loved Him

Del Potro was loved by crowds in every country, and the reason was simple: he was kind, and the kindness was real, and people could feel it. He signed autographs for children, he spoke to fans, he thanked the ball boys and the officials, and he treated everyone with the same respect, whether they were a champion or a stranger. He did not act like a star, and he did not demand special treatment, and he did not complain, even when things went wrong. He was a gentle giant, a man who was nearly two metres tall, and who hit the ball harder than anyone, and who was, at the same time, the softest and kindest person on the court.

The crowds in New York loved him, because he had beaten Federer there, and because he had done it with grace, and because he had celebrated with a humility that made them love him more. The crowds in London loved him, because he had won a bronze medal for Argentina there, and because he had played with a passion that they admired. The crowds in Rio loved him, because he had beaten Djokovic and Nadal there, and because he had cried on the podium, and because they could see how much the medal meant to him. And the crowds in Buenos Aires loved him most of all, because he was one of their own, a boy from Tandil who had become a hero, and who had never forgotten where he came from.

He was also loved by his fellow players, because they knew how hard he had worked, and how much he had suffered, and how kind he was, even to his opponents. Djokovic, Federer, Nadal, and Murray, the four greatest players of his generation, all spoke of him with respect, and with affection, and they all said that he was one of the nicest men in the game, and one of the most talented. It is a rare thing for a player to be loved by his rivals, because rivals are supposed to hate each other, but del Potro was loved by his, and that tells me everything I need to know about who he was.

My Take:

I think Juan Martín del Potro is the most loved tennis player of his generation, and I say that because I have never heard a bad word about him, from anyone, in any country, in any language. He was loved in Argentina, and he was loved in New York, and he was loved in London, and he was loved in Rio, and he was loved everywhere he played, because he was kind, and because he was humble, and because he never complained, even when his body was breaking down. That is a rare thing in sport, where so many stars are loved in one place and hated in another, and it is a thing that tells me something important about del Potro: that he was a good man, first, and a great player, second, and that the goodness is what people remember.

What I admire most about del Potro is his forehand, and I want to talk about it, because it was the most powerful shot I have ever seen in tennis. He hit the ball flat, and fast, and the sound of it was like a gunshot, and the ball came at his opponents so quickly that they had no time to react. I have watched old films of his matches, and I am still amazed by the power, and by the courage it took to hit the ball that hard, again and again, knowing that one mistake could cost him the point. It was a shot that was built on confidence, and on strength, and on a belief that he could beat anyone, and he could, when the forehand was working, and it was working most of the time.

But I also feel sad for del Potro, because his career was stolen from him by injuries, and because he never got the chance to show the world how great he could have been. He won the US Open at twenty, and he should have won more, and he should have been one of the great champions of his generation, but his wrist broke, and his knee broke, and his body broke, and he spent a decade fighting to come back, instead of fighting to win titles. I think about what might have been, and I feel a deep sadness, because the tennis world lost a champion, and del Potro lost the career he deserved, and no one can give it back to him. That is a tragedy, and it is a tragedy that I think about often.

The comebacks are the part of his story that I admire most, because they show a courage that is hard to find. He had surgery on his wrist, and he came back. He had surgery again, and he came back. He hurt his knee, and he came back. He hurt it again, and he came back. Most players would have quit after the first surgery, and no one would have blamed them, but del Potro did not quit, and he kept coming back, again and again, because he loved the game, and because he loved the crowds, and because he did not want to retire. That takes a strength that is different from the strength you need to hit a forehand. It takes a strength of the heart, and del Potro had it, in greater measure than almost anyone I have ever seen.

I also love the Olympic story, because it shows how much he cared about Argentina, and how much Argentina cared about him. He won a bronze medal in London, and a silver medal in Rio, and he cried on the podium, and the whole country cried with him, because they knew how much it meant to him, and how hard he had fought to win it. He beat Djokovic in Rio, and he beat Nadal in the semi-final, and he played with a passion that made the whole world cheer for him, even people who were not Argentine. I think playing for your country is a special thing, and del Potro understood it better than most players, because he was an Argentine, and because Argentines take pride in representing their country, and he wore the colours with pride, and he made his country proud.

The Davis Cup victory in 2016 is another moment I love, because it was a team victory, and because it was the first time Argentina had ever won the Cup, and because del Potro played a key role in it, and because the whole team celebrated together, as one. He was not only a singles champion. He was a team player, and a man who cared about his country, and about his teammates, and who was willing to fight for them, even when his body was hurting. That is a kind of greatness that goes beyond titles, and it is a kind of greatness that the people of Argentina will never forget.

If I could speak to a young player who is injured, I would tell them to look at del Potro, and to learn from him. I would tell them that injuries are a part of sport, and that they are painful, and that they are unfair, but that they do not have to be the end. I would tell them to work hard, to be patient, and to believe that they can come back, because del Potro came back, again and again, and he proved that it is possible, even when the doctors say it is not, and even when the world has written you off. That is a message of hope, and it is a message that every injured athlete needs to hear.

In the end, I think Juan Martín del Potro will be remembered as the gentle giant, the Tower of Tandil, and the man who never gave up, and I think that is a fine legacy. He won the US Open, he won Olympic medals, he won the Davis Cup, and he reached the world number three, and he did it all with a kindness that made everyone love him. I will remember the forehand, and the smile, and the tears in Rio, and I will remember the farewell in Buenos Aires, where a whole nation said goodbye to its hero. That is del Potro, and that is why I will always love him.

I also think about his pain today, because he has spoken honestly about how much his knee still hurts, and about how hard it is for him to walk, and to live a normal life, and I feel sad for him, because the game that gave him so much joy has also given him so much pain, and the pain will stay with him for the rest of his life. I think about the price that athletes pay, and about how the crowds forget the price, once the matches are over, and I want to remember it, because it matters. Del Potro paid the price, and he paid it with grace, and I hope he finds peace, and I hope his knee heals, and I hope he can enjoy the life after tennis that he deserves.

One more thought stays with me, and it is about his humility, because it is the quality that defines him more than any other. He was a Grand Slam champion, and an Olympic medallist, and the world number three, and he never acted like a star. He was polite, he was kind, and he was grateful, and he treated everyone, from the ball boys to the champions, with the same respect. I think that is a rare thing, and it is a thing that the world needs more of, because fame can make people proud, and proud people are hard to love, but humble people are easy to love, and del Potro was humble, and the world loved him for it. I hope young players learn from that, and learn to be humble, even when they are great.

And finally, I want to say that I am glad del Potro got his farewell in Buenos Aires, because it was a farewell fit for a hero, and because it gave the people of Argentina a chance to say thank you, and to say goodbye, and to celebrate a career that had brought them so much joy. He stood on the court, and he cried, and the crowd cried, and Djokovic hugged him, and the moment was beautiful, because it was a moment of love, between a player and his people, and that love will last, long after the tennis is forgotten. That is the ending he deserved, and I am glad he got it.

I also think about the 2009 US Open final once more, because it is the match that I would show to anyone who has never watched del Potro play, to explain why he mattered. He was twenty years old, he was playing Federer, the greatest player in the world, in front of a crowd that wanted Federer to win, and he won, in five sets, because he believed, and because he hit his forehand with a courage that no one could stop. I think about that when I think about courage, and about what it means to believe in yourself when no one else believes in you, and I remember del Potro, and I feel braver. That is a gift he has given me, and I am grateful for it.

There is one more lesson in del Potro’s life that I want to name, and it is about patience. He waited for years, through surgeries and recoveries, for his body to heal, and he waited with a patience that is hard to find in a world that wants everything now. He did not rush, and he did not give up, and he came back when he was ready, not when the world wanted him to. I think patience is a kind of strength, and del Potro had it, and I hope that anyone who is waiting for something, a recovery, a chance, a new beginning, will learn from him, and will wait with the same patience, and the same hope.

I also think about his father, Daniel, the veterinarian, and his mother, Patricia, the teacher, because they raised a boy who became a hero, and who stayed humble, and who never forgot them. They did not push him, and they did not demand that he win, and they let him love the game, and they supported him, and they were there for him, through every injury, and every comeback. I think about all the parents who support their children in sport, and I hope they learn from the del Potro family, and learn to support without pushing, and to love without demanding, because that is the kind of support that makes a champion, and that keeps a champion humble.

I also want to say something about his height, because it is a part of who he was, and because it made his game special. He was nearly two metres tall, and he moved well for a man of his height, and he hit the ball from a great height, and the ball came down on his opponents like a hammer. I think about all the tall children who feel awkward, and who feel different, and who wish they were shorter, and I want them to see del Potro, and to know that height is a gift, and that it can take you to the top of the world, if you work hard, and if you believe in yourself. He was tall, and he was proud of it, and he used it well, and that is a lesson for every child who feels different.

I also think about the knee, and about the pain he still feels, because it is a reminder that greatness has a price, and that the price is paid in the body, long after the career is over. He has said that it hurts to walk, and that it hurts to climb stairs, and that the pain is a part of his daily life now, and I feel sad for him, because he gave his body to the game, and the game took it, and did not give it back. I hope that medicine finds a way to help him, and I hope that he finds peace, and I hope that the people who loved watching him play remember the price he paid, and thank him for it, because he paid it for them, and for the joy he gave them.

And I want to finish with a thought about love, because del Potro’s story is really a story about love: the love of his family, the love of his country, the love of the crowds, and the love of the game. He was loved, and he loved back, and that love is what carried him through a decade of injuries, and what brought him back, again and again, when his body told him to stop. I think that is the greatest lesson of his life: that love is stronger than pain, and that a person who is loved will keep fighting, even when the fight seems hopeless. Del Potro was loved, and he fought, and he won, in the only way that matters, by never giving up.

Frequently Asked Questions

How did Juan Martín del Potro win the US Open?

He won the US Open in 2009, beating Roger Federer in the final in five sets, ending Federer’s five-year winning run at the tournament in New York.

Why is Juan Martín del Potro called the Tower of Tandil?

He earned the nickname because he is nearly two metres tall, comes from Tandil in Argentina, and hits a powerful forehand that towers over his opponents.

What Olympic medals did Juan Martín del Potro win?

He won a bronze medal at the London Olympics in 2012 and a silver medal at the Rio Olympics in 2016, where he beat Djokovic and Nadal on his way to the final.

Why did Juan Martín del Potro miss so much of his career?

He suffered repeated injuries, especially to his right wrist, which needed several surgeries, and later to his knee, which kept him off the court for long periods.

Did Juan Martín del Potro help Argentina win the Davis Cup?

Yes, he was a key member of the Argentine team that won the Davis Cup for the first time in 2016, beating Croatia in the final.

When did Juan Martín del Potro retire?

He played his last professional matches in 2022 and held a farewell exhibition, The Last Challenge, against Novak Djokovic in Buenos Aires in December 2024.