Gazette MVP: Highland's Sarah Sgambati learns to control her emotions

Sarah Sgambati's demeanor on the tennis court won't remind anyone of Chris Evert or Steffi Graf, and that's just fine with the Highland senior and two-time Gazette MVP. Though she came a long way in improving her on-court demeanor while finishing with a 106-27 record in her four-year career with the Hornets, Sgambati will never play without emotion, because in many ways that's what makes her tick. An intense competitor who can't stand losing, Sgambati loves to pump her fist or shout "Let's go!" after winning a key point. If the 17-year-old held that in — or didn't outwardly express her frustration from time to time — she probably wouldn't be the player she is. "She does it to keep herself going and engaged," close friend and postseason doubles partner Maddie Pawlak said. "A couple years back I told her she looked like an idiot, but now I understand why she does it . It works, and I do it now, too. "She can't hide her facial expressions. You can always tell what she's thinking. She'll hit you with an eye roll or mutter something under her breath. Even if she could stop it, it wouldn't be her. That's what makes her who she is." A three-time All-Gazette pick and honorable mention selection as a freshman, Sgambati teamed with Pawlak to win the Suburban League American Conference Tournament championship at first doubles when they were ninth-graders. As a sophomore, she won a league title at second singles, then finished second at first singles as a junior. Sgambati saved her best for last, winning the SL American Conference Tournament championship at first singles — and the league MVP award — as a senior. She played doubles with Pawlak in the postseason, when they became the first Highland girls to win a match at the state tournament since sisters Pennie and Jaclyn Spirtos in 2000. "I did a lot for the team, but a lot of my accomplishments I really did for myself," said Sgambati, who helped the Hornets extend their SL American Conference team championship run to seven years. "I just wanted to win because I wanted to win, not because the school wanted me to win or the team wanted me to win. I wanted to do it." Sgambati did it, finishing 31-8 overall as a senior while facing some of the top players in the state. She did it her way, too, and takes great pride in getting better at controlling her on-court emotions. "I feel like I was a completely different person my freshman year," she said. "I was like a land mine on the court. It was bad. I was good (talent-wise) for a freshman, but, geez, I needed to calm down sometimes. "When you're in the moment you think everything you're doing is so rational, that everything is against you and you deserve to win. Nope. I was just being emotional." Pawlak had an up-close view of the explosions as Sgambati's doubles partner, but she also witnessed her friend's steady growth throughout her career. "This was her best year, emotionally," Pawlak said. "I don't think in any match she had a temper tantrum. In the past, freshman year, sophomore year, even junior year, she would have them. This year she did really well." Along the way, Sgambati and Pawlak's friendship grew. When they were sophomores, Pawlak beat out Sgambati for the first singles spot, with Sgambati moving to No. 1 their final two seasons. "We hated each other at first," Pawlak said with a laugh. "I hated her even before we went into tryouts as freshmen. Then we were told we were going to play together, so I learned to like her. "She's very funny. Her humor, she doesn't have a filter, especially when we're playing. If someone makes a bad call or does something stupid, she makes me laugh. That's what made me like her. The first few weeks it was a fake like, but then it was real." As her career progressed, Sgambati learned that by becoming unglued when an opposing fan said something or an opponent made a bad line call, she was only hurting herself. "I think I've grown a lot," she said. "I definitely don't get as upset as I used to. I don't yell at myself as much out of anger. I've calmed down a lot over the years, but it took a long time to do it. "I kind of put all my feelings deep down inside myself so they didn't get to the surface and turn into a weakness. A couple years ago, people would try to rile me up because they wanted to upset me. Now it doesn't rattle me. I'll laugh at them because they look stupid." The owner of a 4.5 grade-point average whose ideal immediate future would include studying pre-law at Stanford, Sgambati comes by her competitiveness naturally. Her father Tony, an assistant coach with the Hornets, played Division I college tennis, while her mother Tracey suffered in silence when her daughter was not playing well. Brother Ty, a sophomore, ran on Highland's state-qualifying cross country team. "We're very competitive," Sgambati said. "That's why I'm glad Ty quit tennis." From a playing aspect, Sgambati's game also grew over the last four years. When she started, if she hit a heavy forehand out, her solution was to hit the next one even harder. Now she knows that less can sometimes mean more. "When she started she didn't have control of her game," Highland coach Lisa Reynolds said. "She had one speed, and by the end she had many different gears she could go into. She could dial up what she needed to be successful. "She learned how to tailor her talent to help her win. She did that by believing she didn't have to hit it 150 mph, that she could use spin and change the height and depth of the ball in order to win points." Winning remains very important to Sgambati, who has not ruled out playing tennis at a smaller college, but she has learned that can be defined by more than the final score on the court. "It was maturing, but also not caring as much," she said. "The funny thing is, I don't think I cared as much this year as I maybe did my freshman year. ... I just let things roll off my shoulders more. "I would be lying if I said there weren't times when I thought about quitting, but I've been playing so long and there's no other sport I could really do. I just had to keep pushing because I'd put so much into it already. It would seem like a slap in the face if I just quit." Contact Rick Noland at (330) 721-4046 or rnoland@medina-gazette.com. Follow him @RickNoland on Twitter.