Stan Wawrinka: The Life Story Behind Tennis' Late Bloomer

2:24 PM PKT 31 min read

A tennis player seen from behind in a white shirt and black shorts holding his racket on a blue court before snowy pink mountains in mist with a crowd watching.
In this post
  1. A Farm Boy From Lausanne With a Racket in His Hand
  2. Turning Professional While Federer Took the World
  3. The Beijing Gold and the First Taste of Something Bigger
  4. Melbourne 2014: The Night Everything Changed
  5. Paris and New York: Proving Melbourne Was No Accident
  6. Knees, Pain, and the Long Road Back
  7. The Later Years and What Remains
  8. The Davis Cup Triumph in Lille
  9. The One-Handed Backhand as a Weapon
  10. My Take:

Stan Wawrinka spent most of his career in the shadow of another Swiss tennis player. That other player was Roger Federer, and the shadow was long. For years, Wawrinka was described as the second Swiss, the solid player, the man who worked hard and won a few tournaments but never seemed likely to win the biggest ones. Then, in his late twenties, when most players have already shown their best, he changed the story completely. He won three Grand Slam titles, he beat Rafael Nadal and Novak Djokovic in finals, and he forced the tennis world to look at him in a new way.

His story is unusual because it did not follow the usual path. The great champions of his time announced themselves as teenagers. Wawrinka announced himself slowly. He learned, he waited, he improved one part of his game at a time, and when the chance came, he was ready in a way that surprised almost everyone, including, perhaps, himself. His one-handed backhand became one of the most feared shots in tennis, a shot that could turn a rally in a single swing.

This is the story of a player who refused to accept the label that others gave him. It is about patience, about late growth, about a man from Lausanne who kept working when the world had already decided what he could and could not do. It is also about friendship, rivalry, and the strange luck of being born in the same country and the same era as the greatest player of all time.

A Farm Boy From Lausanne With a Racket in His Hand

Stanislas Wawrinka was born on 28 March 1985 in Lausanne, Switzerland. His family ran a farm, and his childhood was close to the land. He grew up in a place where work started early and where the seasons set the rhythm of life. Tennis was not the obvious choice for a boy from a farming family, but his parents supported him, and he began to play when he was young. The courts near his home became a second home, and the game slowly took hold of him.

As a boy, he was not the most gifted child on the court. He did not have the smooth, natural ease that some young players show. What he had was strength, and a willingness to practise for long hours. He hit the ball hard, and he learned to love the feeling of a clean strike. His backhand, played with one hand, was there from the start, and it would become the shot that defined him. A one-handed backhand is harder to learn than a two-handed one, and it needs perfect timing, but Wawrinka stayed with it.

His early coaches saw a boy who was serious about the game. He was not loud or showy. He listened, he worked, and he came back the next day to do it again. That kind of quiet discipline is easy to miss when a coach is looking for a star, but it is often the thing that lasts longest. Wawrinka did not win everything as a junior, and he did not arrive on the professional tour as a famous teenager. He arrived as a worker, and he had to earn every step.

The Swiss tennis system gave him a path, and he took it steadily. He played junior tournaments, he learned to travel, and he learned to lose without giving up. Losing is a large part of a young tennis player’s life, and the players who survive are the ones who can take a loss, go back to practice, and try again. Wawrinka learned that lesson early, and it stayed with him for the rest of his career. The farm boy from Lausanne was not in a hurry. He was building something slowly, and he did not yet know how far it would go.

Turning Professional While Federer Took the World

Wawrinka turned professional in 2002, when he was seventeen. The tennis world at that time was beginning to belong to Roger Federer, another Swiss player only a few years older. Federer was winning everything, and the whole country watched him. For Wawrinka, this was both a gift and a problem. The gift was that Swiss tennis had never been so popular, and young players had a hero to follow. The problem was that every Swiss player was measured against Federer, and no one could measure up.

In his first years on tour, Wawrinka won matches, lost matches, and slowly climbed the rankings. He won his first title in Umag in 2006, on clay, and it was a sign that he belonged at the top level. He was strong, he moved well for a big man, and his backhand could hurt anyone. But he was not yet consistent. He could beat a top player one week and lose to a lesser player the next. That pattern is common for young players, and it is also frustrating, because it makes a player wonder whether he will ever put it all together.

He played Davis Cup for Switzerland, and he learned what it meant to play for a team and a country rather than only for himself. In Davis Cup, the crowd is louder, the pressure is different, and a win feels shared. Wawrinka liked that feeling. He also learned to play doubles with Federer, and the two men began to build a partnership that would matter later. They were very different players, and very different people, but on a doubles court they found a way to work together.

By the end of his early twenties, Wawrinka was a respected player, ranked in the top twenty, with a few titles and a reputation as a dangerous opponent. But the big prizes still seemed far away. The Grand Slam titles were shared between Federer, Nadal, and Djokovic, and no one else could break through. Wawrinka watched from the side, and he kept working. He did not know that his best years were still ahead of him, and that the waiting would make the breakthrough sweeter when it came.

The Beijing Gold and the First Taste of Something Bigger

The 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing gave Wawrinka his first great moment. He played doubles with Roger Federer, and the two Swiss players won the gold medal. It was a strange and wonderful result. In singles, Federer had lost early, and the Swiss team was disappointed. In doubles, the two men found a rhythm, and they beat the Swedish pair in the final. Wawrinka wore the gold medal, and he learned what it felt like to win something that mattered to a whole country.

The gold medal changed how people saw him. He was no longer only the second Swiss player. He was an Olympic champion, and he had won it with Federer, not behind him. The two men celebrated together, and the picture of them on the podium became a famous image in Swiss sport. For Wawrinka, the medal was proof that he could win on the biggest stage, even if it was in doubles. It gave him confidence, and confidence is a quiet thing that grows slowly.

In the years after Beijing, he kept improving. He reached the quarter-finals of Grand Slam tournaments, and he won more titles. He worked on his fitness, and he worked on his mind. Tennis at the top level is as much about the mind as about the body, and Wawrinka knew that his mind was the part that needed the most work. He could get angry with himself, he could lose focus, and he could let a bad point become a bad set. Learning to stay calm, to breathe, and to play the next point as if the last one had never happened, took years.

He also married, and he became a father. His daughter Alexia was born, and his life off the court changed. Family gave him a reason to work that was larger than tennis, and it also gave him a place to go when tennis was hard. The years passed, and he turned twenty-five, then twenty-seven, then twenty-eight. In tennis, twenty-eight is the age when people start to say that a player’s best years are behind him. Wawrinka was about to prove them wrong.

Melbourne 2014: The Night Everything Changed

The Australian Open in 2014 changed Stan Wawrinka’s life. He arrived in Melbourne as a good player, ranked eighth in the world, but no one picked him to win the title. The favourites were Nadal and Djokovic, as they had been for years. Wawrinka played well in the early rounds, and then he faced Djokovic in the quarter-finals. Djokovic had beaten him many times, and he was the defending champion. The match went to five sets, and Wawrinka won it. It was a long, hard match, and when it ended, the crowd knew they had seen something special.

In the semi-final, he beat Tomas Berdych, another strong player, and he reached his first Grand Slam final. His opponent was Rafael Nadal, the world number one, a player who had won thirteen Grand Slam titles by then. Nadal was the favourite, and most people expected him to win. But Wawrinka played the match of his life. He hit his backhand with power and confidence, he served well, and he took the first two sets. Nadal was hurt during the match, and he struggled, but Wawrinka did not let the moment slip away. He won in four sets, and he became the Australian Open champion.

The moment he won, he fell to the court, and the emotion was plain to see. He had waited so long, and he had worked so hard, and now he was a Grand Slam champion. The tennis world was stunned. A player who had never won a Grand Slam, at twenty-eight years old, had beaten the two best players in the world in the same tournament. It was one of the great surprises in modern tennis, and it was also a reward for patience.

After Melbourne, Wawrinka was no longer the second Swiss. He was a champion in his own right, and his name was known everywhere. He climbed to number three in the world, and he began to believe that he could win more. The Australian Open had shown him that his best tennis was good enough to beat anyone, and that belief is the most valuable thing a player can carry into a match.

Paris and New York: Proving Melbourne Was No Accident

Some people wondered whether the Australian Open had been a one-time event, a lucky run that would never happen again. Wawrinka answered that question in Paris in 2015. At the French Open, he played some of the best tennis of his life, and he reached the final against Novak Djokovic, the world number one. Djokovic had won the Australian Open that year, and he was chasing a career Grand Slam. Wawrinka was the underdog again, and he played like a man with nothing to lose.

The final was a beautiful match. Wawrinka hit his backhand with extraordinary power, and he won in four sets. He became the French Open champion, and he had now won two Grand Slam titles on two different surfaces. The win was even more impressive because it came on clay, Nadal’s favourite surface, in a tournament that Nadal had dominated for a decade. Wawrinka had beaten Djokovic in a final, and he had done it with courage and skill.

A year later, at the US Open in 2016, he did it again. He reached the final, and his opponent was Djokovic once more. The match went to four sets, and Wawrinka won it. He had now won three Grand Slam finals, and he had won all three. He had beaten Nadal once and Djokovic twice, and he had never lost a Grand Slam final. That record is rare, and it tells you something about his character. When the moment was biggest, he played his best.

These three titles changed his place in tennis history. He was no longer a surprise. He was a great player, and his backhand was spoken of as one of the best shots the game had ever seen. He had also won the Davis Cup with Switzerland in 2014, beating France in the final, and he had become a national hero. The farm boy from Lausanne had become one of the most respected players in the world, and he had done it in his late twenties and early thirties, when most players are slowing down.

Knees, Pain, and the Long Road Back

After the US Open win in 2016, Wawrinka’s body began to break down. He had played hard tennis for many years, and his knees had taken the strain. In 2017, he had surgery on his knee, and the road back was long and painful. He missed months of tennis, and when he returned, he was not the same player. His movement was slower, his confidence was shaken, and he lost matches that he would once have won. It was a hard time, and it tested him in a new way.

He tried to come back, and he had some good moments, but the knee problems kept returning. He had more surgery, and he spent long periods away from the tour, working in the gym and on the practice court, trying to get his body back. For a player in his thirties, this is a lonely life. The tour moves on, new players arrive, and the world forgets you a little. Wawrinka did not forget himself. He kept training, and he kept believing that he could still play good tennis.

His personal life also changed during these years. His marriage ended, and he had to build a new life off the court. That is hard for anyone, and it is harder still when your body is hurting and your career is uncertain. He spoke little about it in public, and he kept his private life private. He focused on his daughter, on his training, and on the simple work of getting better, one day at a time.

In the years that followed, he played on, and he had moments that reminded people of his best tennis. He reached the quarter-finals of the French Open in 2019, and he beat top players in smaller tournaments. He was no longer a Grand Slam favourite, but he was still a dangerous opponent, and he still loved the game. The knee would never be perfect again, but he had learned to live with it, and to play with what he had. That, in its own way, was as impressive as winning the Grand Slams.

The Later Years and What Remains

In his late thirties, Wawrinka kept playing, and he became one of the oldest players on the tour. He played because he loved tennis, and because he still believed he could win matches at the highest level. He won a title in Umag again in 2023, many years after his first title there, and it was a sweet moment. He had come full circle, back to the place where it had all started, and he was still winning.

He also became a mentor and a respected voice in the game. Younger players looked up to him, not only because of his titles but because of his attitude. He had shown them that a career does not have to peak at twenty-two, and that hard work can pay off late. He had shown them that a player can lose many times, can be written off, and can still come back. That message matters to young players who are struggling, and it is part of his legacy.

His friendship with Federer also remained important. The two men had played together, won together, and pushed each other for many years. When Federer retired in 2022, Wawrinka spoke of him with respect and warmth. They were rivals in a sense, but they were also partners and friends, and they had shared a journey that no one else could understand. The Swiss golden age of tennis belonged to both of them, in different ways.

Today, Wawrinka is remembered as one of the great late bloomers in sport. He won three Grand Slams, an Olympic gold medal, and a Davis Cup, and he did it with a one-handed backhand that people still talk about. He did not have the longest career at the top, and he did not win as many titles as the three men who dominated his era, but he beat them when it mattered most. That is a legacy that no one can take away, and it is a story that will be told for a long time.

The Davis Cup Triumph in Lille

In November 2014, only a few months after winning the French Open was still fresh in his mind, Wawrinka played a different kind of tennis in Lille, in France, in the Davis Cup final. Switzerland had never won the Davis Cup, and the team had come close before, but the trophy had always escaped them. This time, with Federer and Wawrinka playing together, the Swiss believed they could do it. The final was played on clay, indoors, in front of a huge French crowd that sang and cheered for every French point. It was a loud and hostile place to play, and it tested every player who walked onto the court.

Wawrinka played the second singles match, against Jo-Wilfried Tsonga, a powerful French player who was dangerous on any surface. The match was long and hard, and Wawrinka won it in four sets, giving Switzerland a lead that they would not give up. He played with the same calm that he had shown in Melbourne and in Paris, hitting his backhand with power, serving well, and refusing to be beaten by the crowd. When he won, he celebrated with his team, and the Swiss fans in the stadium cheered. It was a team win, and it felt different from a singles win, because it was shared.

Federer then won his singles match, and Switzerland won the Davis Cup for the first time. Wawrinka held the trophy with his teammates, and he wore a Swiss shirt, and he smiled in a way that people had rarely seen. He had won three Grand Slams, he had won an Olympic gold medal, and now he had won the Davis Cup. He had completed a set of team and individual honours that few players ever achieve. The Davis Cup win also showed that he could play for something larger than himself, and that he could be a team player as well as a singles star. It was a proud moment for Swiss tennis, and it was a proud moment for a man from Lausanne who had once been called the second Swiss.

The Davis Cup also mattered because it brought Federer and Wawrinka closer together. They had played doubles together, they had won Olympic gold together, and now they had won the Davis Cup together. They were not rivals in the usual sense. They were partners, and they were friends, and they had shared a journey that no one else could understand. The Davis Cup trophy sits in Switzerland now, and it is a reminder of a year, 2014, when Swiss tennis reached its peak, and when Wawrinka played a central part in it.

The One-Handed Backhand as a Weapon

Every great player has a shot that people remember, and for Wawrinka, that shot was the one-handed backhand. In an era when almost every player hit a two-handed backhand, Wawrinka stayed with one hand, and he turned it into a weapon that could win matches on its own. He could hit it flat and hard, he could hit it with topspin, and he could hit it down the line, cross-court, or over the net with a flick of his wrist. When the ball came to his backhand, opponents knew they were in danger, because he could turn defence into attack in a single swing.

The backhand was not easy to learn, and it was not easy to keep. It needed perfect timing, and it needed a strong arm and a strong core, and it needed hours of practice. Wawrinka practised it every day, and he built his whole game around it. His coach, Magnus Norman, a former Swedish player who had also played with a one-handed backhand, helped him to use it more aggressively, to step into the court, and to take the ball early. That change made the backhand even more dangerous, because it gave his opponents less time to react.

In his Grand Slam finals, the backhand was the shot that made the difference. Against Nadal in Melbourne, he hit backhand winners that Nadal could not reach. Against Djokovic in Paris and in New York, he hit backhands that went past the best defender in the game. Djokovic is known for his defence, and for his ability to return almost any ball, but Wawrinka’s backhand was too fast, too heavy, and too well placed for even Djokovic to handle. It was a shot that could beat the best, and it did, three times in Grand Slam finals.

Young players today watch videos of Wawrinka’s backhand, and they try to copy it, but few can. It takes strength, it takes timing, and it takes courage to hit a one-handed backhand with that much power. Wawrinka had all three, and he used them to win three Grand Slams. The backhand will be remembered as one of the great shots in tennis history, and it will be remembered as the shot that defined a late bloomer from Switzerland who refused to accept the label that others gave him.

My Take:

I think Stan Wawrinka’s story is one of the most hopeful stories in tennis, and I say that because it breaks the rule that most people believe about sport. The rule says that if you have not made it by twenty-two, you will never make it. Wawrinka made it at twenty-eight, twenty-nine, and thirty-one, and he made it against the three best players of his time. I find that deeply encouraging, because it tells me that a person’s best years are not always the first years, and that a slow start is not the same as a failure. I think about the young players who are told they are too old at twenty-five, and I wish they could read his story first.

What I admire most is his patience. He did not panic when Federer was winning everything and he was still trying to win a small tournament. He did not change his game every year, and he did not chase a quick fix. He kept working on the same things, year after year, and he trusted that the work would pay off. That kind of patience is rare, and it is hard, because the world around you is always asking why you have not succeeded yet. I think Wawrinka’s answer was simple. He kept his head down, he kept practising, and he waited for his moment. When it came, he was ready.

I also admire his backhand, and I do not mean that only as a tennis fan. A one-handed backhand is a beautiful shot, but it is also a hard shot, and many players give it up because it is easier to play with two hands. Wawrinka stayed with it, and he turned it into a weapon. That tells me something about his character. He did not take the easy road. He took the road that suited him, and he made it work. I think there is a lesson there for anyone who is told to be like everyone else. Sometimes the thing that makes you different is the thing that makes you great, if you are willing to work at it long enough.

The Australian Open in 2014 is the part of his story that I think about most. He beat Djokovic in the quarter-final, and then he beat Nadal in the final, and both matches were won with courage. I try to imagine what it felt like to walk onto the court against Nadal, knowing that almost no one expected you to win, and to play the best tennis of your life anyway. That takes a kind of calm that is hard to describe. It is not loud confidence. It is quiet confidence, the kind that comes from knowing you have done the work, and that you have nothing to lose. I think that calm is what separated Wawrinka from other good players who never won a Grand Slam.

I also think his friendship with Federer is more interesting than people admit. It would have been easy for Wawrinka to be bitter. He was Swiss, he was talented, and he lived in the shadow of a man who was winning everything. Many players in that position become jealous, and they let the jealousy ruin their own careers. Wawrinka did not do that. He played doubles with Federer, he won an Olympic gold medal with him, and he won a Davis Cup with him. He found a way to be his own man while also being a good partner. I respect that, because it is not easy to share the stage with someone greater than you and still believe in yourself.

The French Open win in 2015 is, for me, the proof that Melbourne was not luck. To beat Djokovic in a Grand Slam final, on clay, in Paris, is one of the hardest things in tennis. Djokovic was the best player in the world, and he was chasing history. Wawrinka beat him with power and with nerve, and he did it in four sets. I think that match showed that Wawrinka had changed. He was no longer a player hoping to win. He was a player who expected to win, and who knew how to win. That change in the mind is the hardest change in sport, and it is the change that separates champions from good players.

The US Open in 2016 completed the story, and it gave him a record that I find remarkable. Three Grand Slam finals, three wins, and no losses. He never lost a Grand Slam final, and he beat Nadal and Djokovic in those finals. That is a record that even some of the greatest players cannot match. It tells me that Wawrinka was at his best when the pressure was highest, and that is a rare quality. Some players play well in small matches and freeze in big ones. Wawrinka was the opposite. The bigger the match, the better he played, and that is why his three titles feel so special.

I also want to be honest about the hard part of his story, because it matters. After 2016, his knees broke down, and his career changed. He had surgery, he missed months, and he was never the same player again. That is sad, because he was at the top of the game, and he might have won more if his body had held up. But I also think the injury years show something important about him. He did not quit. He kept coming back, he kept training, and he kept playing, even when he knew he would not win another Grand Slam. That kind of love for the game is real, and it is not about trophies. It is about the simple pleasure of hitting a ball well, and of competing.

I think about his daughter, and about his life off the court, and I wonder how much of his success came from having a life outside tennis. He was not only a tennis player. He was a father, and a man from a farming family, and a person who knew that tennis was only part of life. That balance may have helped him stay calm on the court, because he knew that a loss was not the end of the world. It was only a tennis match, and life went on. I think many players would be better if they understood that, and Wawrinka seemed to understand it from the start.

What I learn from him is that late success is still success. We live in a world that celebrates young stars, and that forgets people who take longer. Wawrinka reminds me that taking longer is not a fault. It can be a strength, because the player who takes longer has learned more, has lost more, and has had to fight harder. When he finally wins, he knows what the win means, and he does not take it for granted. I think that is a better story than the story of a teenager who wins everything at once and never learns what it feels like to struggle.

I also learn from him that you do not need to beat everyone all the time. You need to beat the right people at the right time. Wawrinka did not dominate the tour. He did not win twenty Grand Slams. He won three, and he won them against the best, and that was enough. He did not need to be the greatest player of all time. He needed to be the best version of himself, on the days that mattered most. That is a lesson I think about often, because it applies to life as much as to sport. You do not need to be the best at everything. You need to be ready when your moment comes.

His one-handed backhand will be remembered, and I think it should be. It was a shot that could change a match in a second, and it was beautiful to watch. But I hope people remember more than the shot. I hope they remember the man who kept working when no one was watching, who lost many times and came back, who waited until he was twenty-eight to win his first Grand Slam, and who never gave up on himself. That is the part of his story that stays with me, and it is the part I would tell to anyone who feels that they have started too late.

In the end, I think Stan Wawrinka’s career is a reminder that sport is not only about talent. It is about timing, about patience, and about the courage to believe in yourself when others have stopped believing. He believed, and he was right. He won three Grand Slams, he won an Olympic gold medal, and he won a Davis Cup, and he did it his own way, at his own speed. I admire that, and I think his story will give hope to players and to people far beyond tennis, for a long time to come.

I also think about the way he handled being second. For most of his career, every article about him began with the words Roger Federer. He was introduced as Federer’s friend, Federer’s doubles partner, or the other Swiss player. That must have been frustrating, and it must have been hard to hear, year after year. But he never complained in public, and he never let it make him bitter. He kept working, and when his moment came, he did not need Federer to be there. He won on his own, against Nadal and Djokovic, and he proved that he was a champion in his own right. That quiet dignity is a part of his story that I admire, because it is easy to be bitter when you live in someone else’s shadow, and it is harder to be patient and to wait for your own light.

The knee injuries also teach me something about the body and about time. He was at the top in 2016, and a year later his knees were broken, and he was having surgery. That is how quickly sport can change, and how quickly a career can turn. He did not get to choose when his body would fail him, and he did not get to choose how long his peak would last. He got three Grand Slams, and he got them in three years, and then his body said no. I think about how he must have felt, knowing that he could have won more, and knowing that his knees would not let him. He did not complain. He kept playing, he kept training, and he kept loving the game, even when it hurt. That love is real, and it is the reason he is still respected today.

I also want to say something about his coach, Magnus Norman, because coaches are often forgotten when we tell a player’s story. Norman was a former top player himself, and he understood Wawrinka, and he helped him to believe in himself. He did not try to change Wawrinka into someone else. He helped him to become a better version of himself, to use his backhand more aggressively, to stay calm, and to trust his game. That is what a good coach does, and it is a large part of why Wawrinka won his Grand Slams. I think young players should look for a coach who understands them, not a coach who tries to make them into a copy of someone else.

His daughter Alexia is another part of his life that I think about. He became a father, and his life changed, and he learned to balance tennis with family. That balance is hard, and it is harder still when you are travelling the world and playing tennis every week. He did his best, and he kept his private life private, and he focused on his daughter when he was at home. I respect that, because fame can pull a person away from home, and it takes strength to stay close to your family. His daughter will grow up knowing that her father was a champion, but she will also know that he was present in her life, and that matters more than any trophy.

Finally, I think about what his story means for people who are not tennis players. We all have moments when we feel that we have started too late, or that we have missed our chance, or that someone else is better than us. Wawrinka’s story tells us that those feelings are not the end. He started late, he was second, he was written off, and he still won. He won three Grand Slams, he won an Olympic gold medal, and he won a Davis Cup, and he did it at an age when most players are slowing down. That is a message of hope, and it is a message that I will carry with me. It is never too late to become the best version of yourself, if you are willing to work, to wait, and to believe.

Frequently Asked Questions

When did Stan Wawrinka win his first Grand Slam title?

He won his first Grand Slam at the Australian Open in 2014, beating Rafael Nadal in the final in four sets. He was twenty-eight years old at the time, and it was his first Grand Slam final.

How many Grand Slam singles titles did Stan Wawrinka win?

He won three Grand Slam singles titles: the Australian Open in 2014, the French Open in 2015, and the US Open in 2016. He won all three finals he played, beating Nadal once and Novak Djokovic twice.

What is special about Stan Wawrinka’s backhand?

He plays a one-handed backhand, which is rare in modern tennis, and it is known for its power and beauty. In his Grand Slam wins, the backhand was a key weapon that allowed him to hit winners from difficult positions.

Did Stan Wawrinka win an Olympic medal?

Yes, he won the Olympic gold medal in doubles at the Beijing Games in 2008, playing with Roger Federer. The Swiss pair beat Sweden in the final.

Why is Stan Wawrinka called a late bloomer?

He is called a late bloomer because his greatest success came in his late twenties and early thirties, much later than most Grand Slam champions. His first Grand Slam title came at twenty-eight, after many years as a solid but not top player.

What happened to Stan Wawrinka after 2016?

After his US Open win, he suffered serious knee problems and had surgery in 2017. He missed long periods, and he was never quite the same player, though he kept competing, reached the French Open quarter-finals in 2019, and won a title in Umag in 2023.

Sources

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