It is common to look back at his potential as a youth and portray Gasquet as an underachiever. Perhaps this is true. But perhaps this just says more about the vast differences between junior tennis and the physically mature version of the game. For my part, I suspect that Gasquet performed quite well given the competition in his era and the limitations he had to work around. If you looked only at his signature shot—that casual, omnipotent one-handed backhand—you’d think everything in tennis came easily to him, and that his struggles were only due to a lack of diligence. A closer inspection reveals plenty of other challenges. The forehand technique was not nearly as pure as the backhand. With his modest stature—it seemed as though his six-foot frame consisted of more neck than legs—his serve never won him many easy points. And as the sport became increasingly athletic, he lagged behind the tour’s elite in terms of foot speed and ground-stroke power. I picture him stationed in his preferred zone a few feet behind the baseline, striking technically brilliant shots but struggling to find the offensive depth or defensive court coverage that his top peers could access. It is a testament to his shotmaking and self-preservation that he managed to have as much success as he did, for as long as he did.

He never won a title above the 500 level. But perhaps it’s cooler to be known for a particular shot than for any particular title. Gasquet’s legacy will always be that one-handed backhand. It looks as easy and fluid as the shot you might pantomime with the back of your hand while pacing around your living room, except his version somehow imparts world-class topspin and pace on a very real tennis ball. Given the decisive shift toward two-handers in the modern game, it seems fair to assume we won’t see another backhand like it.

But here I propose that we add just one more element to the Gasquet legacy. It should be familiar to anyone who has ever looked closely at his racquet, perhaps when he was wrapping a new overgrip around the handle at warp speed, as was his ritual during changeovers. The butt of his racquet flares out so dramatically that it looks like he has attached a doorknob to the end. Other pros, like Robin Soderling or Feliciano Lopez, have opted for a light flare, but none have taken it to such an extreme. A friend of Gasquet’s customizes the racquets for him, mummifying the bottom of the racquet in layers of leather grip, which Gasquet then covers with even more blue Tourna Grip. He said he uses this custom grip specifically to suit his backhand. He rests his pinkie finger right on top of the flared butt, and his wrist stays relaxed through the shot. One can visualize this bulbous shape “locking” the racquet in place inside his palm, preventing any slippage, even as he swings freely and expressively. For the sake of posterity, let us remember both components: the legendarily big backhand of Richard Gasquet, and the legendarily big butt that enabled it.