The art of navigating a tiebreak in tennis

There's a moment in every tennis player's life (whether recreational or professional) where everything hinges on a handful of points.

The court feels smaller, the crowd quieter, and every sound becomes sharper. That moment is the tiebreak. Whether it's deciding a set or, in some cases, the entire match, a tiebreak distils all the tension, fatigue and strategy of the preceding hour into a short, high-stakes shootout. And in that crucible, decision making and emotional control become everything.

Nowhere has this been more evident than in the 2019 Wimbledon men's final between Novak Djokovic and Roger Federer. The match was already monumental. Nearly five hours long, historic in its length and drama. At 12–12 in the final set, the rules dictated the introduction of a first-ever fifth-set tiebreak at Wimbledon.

What followed was a masterclass in composure. Djokovic, unflinching, played each point with cold clarity. Federer, who had held two championship points earlier in the set, showed brief signs of indecision. A serve-and-volley on a second serve (arguably an unusual choice under pressure)missed its mark. Djokovic won the tiebreak 7–3, and with it, his sixteenth Grand Slam title.

That tiebreak didn't come down to who played better tennis overall. Federer had won more points in the match. He had hit more winners. But Djokovic made better decisions when it counted most, and he kept a handle on his emotions.

That's the thing with tiebreaks. They're rarely about talent alone. They're about judgment under pressure.

This question of decision making under stress is central to understanding how to approach tiebreaks. During a regular game, a player has the space to recover from a poor shot or a misjudged tactic. There's rhythm, pacing, perhaps even the chance to feel your way into form. A tiebreak strips that away. It demands rapid, accurate choices from the very first point.

Suddenly, the cost of every decision goes up. That aggressive forehand you've been landing comfortably at 30–15 earlier in the set now feels riskier at 3–4 in the breaker. And the brain knows it.

Psychologists who study performance under pressure often describe a narrowing of attention during high-stress moments. Focus collapses onto the threat of "What if I lose this point?" and decision making can become reactive. In tennis terms, that might mean going for too much too early, hesitating on a serve toss, or abandoning the tactical plan. Even the pros aren't immune. At the 2009 US Open, Serena Williams found herself under pressure late in a semi-final against Kim Clijsters. Though not technically in a tiebreak, the match had reached a psychological boiling point.

Williams, frustrated and overwhelmed, lost control in a now-infamous outburst that ended the match with a point penalty on match point. It was a stark reminder of how even the most seasoned athletes can struggle when emotion clouds judgment.

Of course, the opposite is also true. Some players thrive in the tiebreak environment, precisely because they know how to manage that emotional surge. Andy Murray, in his prime, was known for his ability to ride out chaotic momentum swings and keep his head when matches became mentally taxing. Rafael Nadal, likewise, often turns to repetition and ritual (adjusting his socks, bouncing the ball precisely) to create a sense of control in moments of high tension. These aren't quirks. They are psychological strategies, honed over years, to anchor attention and stabilise emotions in pressure situations.

For the rest of us, the takeaway is clear. To perform well in tiebreaks, you need more than clean technique. You need a plan before the breaker even begins. This doesn't mean scripting every point, but rather having a sense of which patterns you trust. Perhaps a wide serve followed by a forehand? or a reliable backhand crosscourt rally? This pre-commitment reduces the mental clutter that tends to build in pressure situations. It frees you to focus on execution, rather than last-second indecision.

Emotionally, the goal is not to suppress what you feel, but to regulate it. Breathing techniques, self-talk and visual cues (like focusing on the strings of your racquet) can all help to interrupt spirals of doubt or panic. A player who can pause for a moment, take a breath, and reset after a double fault at 4–4 is already ahead of the game. What matters in a tiebreak is not whether you feel pressure, but how you respond to it.

In club and amateur matches, the emotional side can be even more pronounced. Without the polished routines of professionals, many players find themselves overthinking every decision. "Should I go down the line or play safe?" "What if I double fault?" "I was up 5–2, how did it get to this?" These thoughts are natural. But they are also distractions.

In the end, the best way to play a tiebreak is to treat each point as its own separate event; neither weighted by past mistakes nor burdened by future outcomes. Process, not panic.

There's a phrase in coaching circles that applies beautifully to tiebreak tennis: "Trust the work." The decisions you make in a breaker are often only as good as the habits you've rehearsed under less pressure. If you've practised your second serve under fatigue, or played practice tiebreaks in training, you're building a foundation for composure. Without that base, decision making becomes improvisation, and improvisation under stress is rarely tidy.

So the next time you find yourself at 6–6, take a breath. Recognise the moment, yes, but don't be consumed by it.

Settle into your plan.

Anchor your focus.

Make decisions deliberately.

Emotion may still knock on the door; but with preparation and presence, you don't have to let it take the wheel.

After all, a tiebreak might only a few minutes. But the players who handle them best are those who understand that the game within the game is mental. And in that game, clarity beats chaos every time.