The twilight of the tennis sandwich generation, foiled by the Big Three, Sinner and Alcaraz

PARIS — As the sun sets on another Roland Garros, it casts a shadow not just on the clay courts of Paris, but on a generation of men’s tennis players whose moment may have passed before it truly arrived.

This group — sometimes referred to as the “sandwich generation” — comprises men born in the 1990s who were once hailed as the sport’s next great champions. Yet through no fault of their own, they’ve spent much of their careers trapped between two dominant eras: the reign of the Big Three — Roger Federer, Rafael Nadal, and Novak Djokovic — and the meteoric rise of Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner.

These players, including Daniil Medvedev, Stefanos Tsitsipas, Alexander Zverev, Andrey Rublev, and Casper Ruud, were once positioned to lead the sport into a new age. But now, instead of lifting trophies, they’re grappling with lost potential and dwindling opportunities.

Over the past few days at the French Open, this grim reality has grown clearer. Medvedev, 29, the lone Grand Slam champion among them still competing, was stunned by Cameron Norrie, ranked No. 81. Casper Ruud, 26 and a three-time major finalist, fell to world No. 41 Nuno Borges and later revealed he has been battling a nagging knee issue. Tsitsipas, also 26 and once the sport’s brightest rising star, was defeated by Matteo Gigante — an unheralded Italian ranked outside the top 160.

Although Zverev (28, world No. 3) and Rublev (27, ranked No. 15) remain in the draw, neither is playing at a level that inspires real confidence. The golden chance for this group to cement their legacy seems to be slipping away, if not already gone.

The harsh truth is this: their window of opportunity never fully opened. Only two players born in the 1990s have claimed Grand Slam titles — Medvedev and Dominic Thiem, the latter of whom retired in 2024, citing the mental and physical toll of trying to match the Big Three and Andy Murray.

In the mid-2010s, when these players were emerging, the ATP was searching for a new generation to carry the torch. Zverev, Tsitsipas, Medvedev, and Italy’s Matteo Berrettini — who missed this French Open due to injury — were promoted as the future. Ruud and Rublev weren’t initially cast in the same spotlight, but Ruud’s trio of major final appearances against Nadal, Djokovic, and Alcaraz altered perceptions.

They’ve each had their moments. Medvedev spent 16 weeks as world No. 1 and captured the 2021 U.S. Open. All have won prestigious Masters 1000 events. Nearly all have reached Grand Slam finals. But today, with the exception of Zverev, none look likely to add their name to the list of major winners.

The numbers paint a stark picture. The Big Three collected 66 majors between them. Since then, Alcaraz and Sinner have dominated, winning the last five Grand Slams. In contrast, the “lost boys” of the 1990s find themselves in a holding pattern, watching as younger stars eclipse them.

In total, the Big Three, Alcaraz, and Sinner have combined for 1,034 weeks at No. 1. Medvedev’s 16 weeks feels negligible by comparison. Sinner alone has already spent over 50 weeks at the top — and counting.

More concerning than the statistics, though, is the body language, the frustration, the sense of resignation that’s begun to creep in. Medvedev, for instance, has repeatedly complained about the quality of tennis balls on tour, claiming they’re too heavy and slow. He argues that only players like Alcaraz and Sinner — capable of generating extreme pace from any part of the court — can thrive under such conditions. In response, Medvedev has taken to switching racket strings mid-match in a bid to adapt, but the results have been unconvincing, as seen in his loss to Norrie.

It’s true that the current combination of slow balls and fast courts benefits the explosive styles of the new generation. Medvedev, who once revolutionized the game with his defensive mastery and powerful serve, now appears increasingly outmatched. His approach — based on consistency and intelligent counterpunching — once challenged even Djokovic and Nadal. But now, that method seems outdated.

“It’s just tennis,” Medvedev said candidly after his latest defeat. The game evolves, and those who can’t evolve with it are left behind.

Tsitsipas expressed similar sentiments before the tournament began. “The level now is much higher than it was in 2021,” he said. “Players have matured. The game has changed. They now have what I call ‘second forehands’ — explosive, aggressive shots even on the backhand. I need to evolve, too.”

After his upset loss to Gigante, Tsitsipas admitted he hasn’t been using his experience wisely. “It stabs me rather than supports me,” he said. He had experimented with a new racket earlier in the year and seemed reinvigorated after winning in Dubai. But soon, back pain forced him to return to his old equipment. Now, for the first time since August 2018, he’ll fall outside the ATP’s top 20.

Ruud, like Medvedev, is set to drop out of the top 10. He has openly acknowledged how Alcaraz and Sinner have forced him to reconsider his approach. “They’re able to flip points around with a single shot, whether forehand or backhand,” he said at last year’s ATP Finals. “That’s something I need to work on.”

But five months later, progress remains slow. “My style struggles against aggressive, flat hitters,” he said in Madrid. “When they’re on, I don’t have many answers.”

Ironically, Ruud did go on to win that Madrid Open — his first Masters 1000 title — yet in Rome, he was demolished 6-0, 6-1 by Sinner. The look on his face said it all: he was watching the game move on without him.

Rublev, too, has tried to control the temper that has often undermined his talent. But his distant look and flat words after beating a much lower-ranked opponent in Paris said volumes. “They [Alcaraz and Sinner] are the best right now. I’m trying to get better. That’s all I can do.”

Zverev, for his part, still finds himself in a peculiar place. He reached the French Open final last year and the Australian Open final earlier this year, which — on paper — puts him closest to that elusive first Slam. But his crushing defeat to Sinner in Melbourne highlighted the gulf that remains between him and the new elite.

He has spoken about his mindset and extra training, but those efforts have not yet borne fruit. “If not for the Big Three, maybe I’d have one or two Slams already,” Zverev mused before this tournament. “Still, it was a privilege to play against them. I did enjoy it.”

It’s a familiar tale in tennis. One generation is overshadowed by the dominance of another. The same fate may one day befall Sinner and Alcaraz. For now, though, the players of the 1990s find themselves in a strange limbo — too young to be veterans, too old to be rising stars, and increasingly aware that their time may never fully come.

Enjoying every moment? Perhaps not anymore.