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BERNARDO MUNK (UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY) - "You’re ultimately alone on the court. That solitude teaches you how to handle pressure and manage emotions in a way that few other experiences can."

Behind every match, every point, and every rally, there’s a story waiting to be told. And today, we dive into the journey of Bernardo Munk, a freshman at UC Berkeley...

Behind every match, every point, and every rally, there’s a story waiting to be told. And today, we dive into the journey of Bernardo Munk, a freshman at UC Berkeley who is already making an impact on the college tennis scene.

In this edition of Court Untold, Bernardo shares how he navigates high-pressure moments, his mindset and motivation within the Cal team, and where he finds the drive to keep pushing forward. He also reflects on the family-like bond the team has built and takes us through his junior tennis years competing in ITF tournaments—a journey that has shaped him into the player he is today.

You're a freshman right now, right? I wanted to ask you about the ITF. I did a little stalking and, wow, your progression has been incredible! I saw that in your first tournaments when you were 15, it looked like you were struggling to make it past the first or second rounds. It seemed tough to reach the final stages. But then, you made an incredible leap—you went on to win five ITFs! I noticed two of those wins were consecutive, and I thought, "Wow!" What changed during that time? How did you manage such a beastly progression?

Yes, well, now that you ask, it brings back some incredible memories. I’ve traveled so much for ITFs—probably to 50 countries and thousands of tournaments. It’s amazing to think about the journey from my first ITF to my last.

I started with a Grade 5 in Panama, right after arriving in the U.S. It was my first ITF, and I entered just to see how it would go and what the level was like. Guess who won that tournament I played?

Joao Fonseca. 

Really? 

Joao Fonseca played that tournament—a Grade 5—three years ago and won it. Watching him, I thought, "This guy is amazing." That Grade 5 was packed with players who later reached the world’s top 10, so the level was incredible.

What impacted my improvement in tennis the most was, apart from spending countless hours on the court and working extremely hard, the shift in motivation I experienced when I moved to the United States. Back in Spain, I played in Madrid and other national tournaments, but I wasn’t as motivated, and I didn’t take my training or fitness seriously. Moving to the U.S. changed everything. With access to ITF tournaments and the chance to improve my ranking, I wanted success more than anything.

I had excellent coaches, including Alvaro Betancur, a seasoned coach who had trained professionals. One of the most impactful changes I made was switching my racket. In Spain, I used a Head Extreme, but it didn’t suit my game as it gave too much power, causing me to hit balls long. One of my coaches recommended I try the Yonex, and from the moment I used it, I fell in love. It’s been my racket ever since, and I’ve stuck with it for the last four years.

The same model? 

Yes, the same model. I don’t dare switch to another racket because when I was in Spain, I kept changing rackets, trying different ones, but this one—I’m in love with it. I don’t think I’ll ever change. Once I started using it, I practiced harder, competed more, and traveled to more tournaments. I began to see what level I could reach, playing Grade 4 events and reaching quarterfinals. That year, I played about five ITFs—not as many as in later years—but it was a pivotal time.

At the end of that year, I knew I’d be leaving the academy to join another one about an hour and a half from IMG. Saying goodbye was tough because I had improved so much during that year. It was a year that marked me the most in my tennis journey, as my level went from a 9.8 UTR to 11.5—an incredible jump in just one year.

After leaving the academy, I immediately traveled to Guatemala to play two tournaments, a Grade 4 and a Grade 5, before heading back to Spain. I was determined to win and had an incredible drive. That mindset paid off as I won both tournaments, and everything started to click for me.

You won it, right?

I caught the two weeks, man, playing with my father as a coach, and I said, well, I'm going to show my father that this year has been worth it, you know, because my father was the one who, I mean, I didn't want to leave the academy, but my parents... 

It was going to be a year, what we had agreed was a year, but then, when the year ended, they asked me, hey, do you want to continue in the United States, seeing, when they saw that I had enjoyed it a lot, that I had improved tennis a lot, they asked me, well, do you want to stay? And I told them, well, yes, yes, the truth is that I like the United States much more than Spain.

I then made the semifinal in doubles in Orange Bowl, I made the quarterfinals in Indian Wells, winning titles, grades 1 and such, it's pretty hard, and it's not that I played so much before the summer, because I had this wrist injury, and that prevented me from playing a lot, and it was a mess, it was little by little, and of course, I was missing the grades 2 and 1 to win them.

I was going to ask you, now that you mentioned the wrist injury, what happened to you there?

Well, a few summers ago, I went to play a Grade 4 tournament in Slovakia. During doubles, I hit a backhand and felt something wrong in my wrist. With each shot, the pain got worse, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. For the next two or three years, I kept playing through the pain, even changing my grip to manage it.

At the beginning of last year, I was in Turkey, and the pain intensified after another backhand. That’s when I realized I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I’d already spoken to people who suggested surgery, but I kept postponing it. However, in Turkey, the pain became too much, and I couldn’t play the following tournaments. I had hoped to compete in Roland Garros and Wimbledon, but with my wrist in that condition, I knew it wasn’t possible.

I decided to stop playing, return to Spain, and get surgery. Thankfully, it went well, and my wrist was fixed. I’ve heard of players needing multiple surgeries, but I was lucky to recover fully and quickly. I had the surgery in June, and by January, I was back on the court, having started to play again just 2-3 months earlier. The fast recovery was a blessing because otherwise, I would have missed this year’s season entirely.

Well, look, I'm going to ask you now about the beginning of everything, when did you start playing tennis, and why? 

When I was 4 or 5 years old, my father introduced me to three sports: tennis, golf, and soccer. I loved all three and played them until I was 10. By then, I was competing at a high level in tennis and soccer, while golf was more casual. One day, my father told me to drop golf as I wasn’t as interested, leaving me to focus on soccer and tennis.

At 11 or 12, juggling both sports became impossible. I’d have a tennis tournament one day and a soccer match the next, sometimes overlapping. My father sat me down and said, "You need to choose." I decided to give tennis a shot. I’d always enjoyed it more, performed better in tournaments, and felt drawn to it.

From that point on, I focused entirely on tennis. By age 10 or 11, I started taking it seriously—practicing harder, entering tournaments in Madrid and across Spain, and dedicating myself to improving. Since then, tennis has been a constant in my life, and now, here I am in California, continuing my journey.

And why tennis, man? Why did you choose tennis over football?

I’m extremely competitive—maybe too much so. When I lose a game, it might seem like I’m fine on the outside, but inside, it breaks me. Playing football in a team made that even harder because losing due to someone else’s mistake would drive me crazy. I couldn’t handle relying on others in that way.

Tennis, on the other hand, took me out of that environment and put all the responsibility on me. It’s an individual sport, and that’s what I love about it. If I lose, it’s on me, and the next day, I can go back to the court and work on what went wrong. Everything depends on my effort and focus.

I think that’s why I chose tennis. It’s more mental, more demanding, and entirely about self-improvement. I love the challenge of it, even though it’s difficult, because that’s what makes it so rewarding.

Yes, absolutely, I agree with that. Actually, the same thing happened to me.

When I was younger, I also played both tennis and football. I think I made the decision a bit earlier, maybe around nine years old, because that’s when I started competing a lot. 

So, yeah, I decided to focus on tennis because, like you said, it’s an individual sport. And honestly, there’s something special about competing on your own. I don’t know, man—it’s just different. There’s something about it that makes you fall in love with the game. Winning on your own, too—it’s a feeling like no other.

The adrenaline, of course, the adrenaline when you play alone is great

I’m going to ask you about the matches themselves. I want to know about handling pressure. What do you do in situations like a tiebreak or a third set to face it in the best way and give yourself the best chance to win?

I think it changes a lot in those critical moments. You have to be much more focused and take a step up. When those moments come, the nerves are overwhelming—especially during a tiebreak. The nerves are the worst, and if they didn’t exist, everyone would play perfectly. Some people handle them better than others, but I believe mental strength is the key in tennis.

When I’m about to play a tiebreak, I always close my eyes and take deep breaths to relax and focus. I take my time—go to the towel, adjust my strings—anything to stay composed. In those moments, it’s essential to slow down, think clearly, and avoid rushing. That’s when mistakes like double faults happen.

During short, high-pressure points, taking your time and planning your next move is crucial. That’s what I focus on—staying calm, breathing, and being deliberate. I think that’s the most important thing to handle those intense moments effectively.

I was going to ask you about dealing with losing streaks. I mean, tennis is a sport that, in the end, is very much about confidence, right?

What often happens is that when you string together a few good tournaments, your confidence skyrockets. And sure, your level might be consistent, but if you lose the first couple of rounds, it can totally shift the whole perspective compared to having two good tournaments. For you, when you're in a bad streak—let’s say you lose the first two rounds—how do you handle it? How do you maintain your confidence and keep going? What’s your approach to get back on track?

Well, I think I’m the best person to ask about this because I’ve been through it. One summer, I played 7 or 8 tournaments and didn’t make it past the first round in any of them—imagine that. Then, after my surgery, I played a few tournaments and matches, and I still couldn’t win until recently.

To me, the most important thing is not to give up. When you lose a match, it’s frustrating and shakes your confidence, but that’s the moment to reflect. The next day, you need to get back on the court and work on what didn’t go well. If your forehand was off, then focus on that. Tennis is a sport where you’ll lose more than you’ll win, and that’s something you have to accept. If you were winning everything, you’d already be number one in the world.

Step by step, what’s helped me the most is analyzing my matches. If they’ve been recorded, I watch them and work on correcting my mistakes during practice. Right after a loss, it’s tough—you’re angry and maybe even feel like quitting. But after a few hours, you realize the only way to get better is to work harder. That’s just how tennis is.

If you mess up on something one day, you need to go back and work on it the next. There’s no shortcut. The person who beat you has likely been working on the areas you haven’t. 

Tennis is physical, mental, and all about hard work. That’s the reality, and there’s no other way to approach it.

Yeah, giving yourself opportunities—that’s exactly it. If you lose the first seven rounds in a row, well, you just keep going. And maybe by the eighth, you make it to the second round. From there, you start building that confidence that wasn’t there before.

Totally, man. There's no other. There's no other in this sport.

What you say, man. In this sport, it's a sport of giving yourself opportunities. It's key.

That’s it. Now I want to ask you about something I didn’t get to earlier—the change from Spain to the United States.

Was it a change you liked? I mean, before even knowing much about the United States, did you feel excited to go? Or were you thinking, “Why am I leaving Spain?”

How was that change for you? 

Well, at first, it was pretty hard. I missed my parents, my family, and my friends—I missed everyone. Adapting to life in the U.S. was difficult, especially the schedule. Meals and training started much earlier than I was used to, with physical training beginning at 6 or 7 in the morning.

However, it wasn’t a huge shock because I had spent summers in the U.S. visiting family in Florida and training. I loved those summers—the weather, the heat, and the intense training sessions. So while the transition was tough, I was somewhat prepared.

The biggest change was being on my own without my parents. I had to do everything myself—clean my room, make my bed, wash my clothes, handle my homework, and focus on my training. At 15 or 16, that was a lot to adapt to, but it forced me to grow up quickly.

Looking back, it’s been incredibly useful. Now that I’m at university, I’m used to handling things independently, and it’s made life much easier.

But then I got used to it. And I think it was one of the best decisions I've made in my life.

I wanted to ask you about something from before. Did you feel like the competition was different between Spain and the United States?

In fact, it was something that caught my attention when you mentioned it. Because, for me, when I competed the most, it was in Spain. And, actually, we’re both from Madrid.

I competed in Madrid too, and I’m sure I’ve been to many of the clubs you've been to. And I felt like there was a lot of competition there. You know, you’d leave Madrid to play in the national team and all that, but even in Madrid, there were so many players pushing each other.

Did you notice that difference? Like, did the United States give you that level boost you were looking for?

Well, from my perspective back then, I was ranked among the top four players in Madrid in the U-10 and U-12 categories. The main competition came from players like Martín Landaluce, Rafael Jodar, and Luis Llorens. We were the ones consistently competing at the highest level, and the semifinals of the Madrid championships often featured the same four of us.

We all had our wins and losses against each other—sometimes I’d beat Martín or Jodar, and other times they’d beat me. But beyond that small group, there wasn’t much depth in competition. I played and won a lot of TTKs and other local tournaments, and it became clear that I needed a bigger challenge.

A Portuguese friend from my academy introduced me to ITFs, explaining that they were international tournaments with global rankings. I had no idea these even existed, and it completely changed my mindset. The ITFs opened a new world of competition, with players from all over the globe. The level was much higher, and many couldn’t even make it past the first or second round.

In Spain, traveling for ITFs wasn’t common, as most competition stayed local. While there are hidden levels of talent in Spain, the opportunities to compete internationally were limited unless you were part of the small group of players who traveled extensively. Going to the U.S. and training at specialized academies allowed me to compete in ITFs regularly, pushing me to grow and improve.

Looking back, maybe I could have stayed in Spain and played in higher categories, but traveling for ITFs from there would have been much more complicated. Playing ITFs exposed me to a wide variety of players and styles, which helped me develop my game in ways local tournaments couldn’t.

Tennis has always been seen as a bit of a lonely sport, that's something people often say. And I wanted to ask you about the sacrifice aspect. To reach a certain level, in your case, it meant leaving Spain and going to the United States, right? For you, that meant leaving your family behind.

I’m curious—did that ever make you feel lonely, even though you were improving so much? Did you ever question if all the sacrifice was really worth it? Like, when you were in that moment, how did you feel about it? Or was it something where, in the end, you thought, “This is what I signed up for"?

There were nights when I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering, “What am I doing here in the United States?” I missed my parents so much, even though I didn’t always realize it at the time. There was even a point when I tried to distance myself from them because I felt so lost. I thought it would make things easier, but it only made everything harder.

Eventually, I realized the best thing I could do was to keep them closer—call them more, talk to them more. In the beginning, I had stopped reaching out, which turned out to be one of the worst decisions I made. From the outside, people might think I was living the dream, being independent and in the U.S., but it was far from that.

The first few months, even the first year, were incredibly tough. I had good friends who helped distract me from the homesickness, but it was still hard. Then, during that first year, my grandmother passed away, which was another devastating blow. It felt like one thing after another.

Despite all the suffering and challenges, it was worth it. It was worth everything to reach the level I wanted to achieve. Looking back now, I can see how those experiences shaped me.

I want to ask you about your circle of friends. I mean, in the end, you went to an academy, so you were living with your friends almost all the time. How did that affect your growth in tennis? Do you think it had an impact? I’ve never been to an academy like that, but I’ve heard that there aren’t many adults around—most of the time, the coaches are the only adults. I’m probably generalizing, but from what I’ve heard, sometimes the atmosphere can be a bit wild—not exactly rowdy, but... I think you get what I mean.

Do you think that affected you as a person? How did you manage to avoid getting caught up in that and stay focused on your path to becoming a better tennis player?

 Well, I’m not going to lie—the first few months after I arrived, I made a lot of mistakes. I got caught up with the wrong group, did things I shouldn’t have, and got into trouble with the academy. Eventually, I had a serious conversation with the coaches, and they told me I needed to distance myself from that group. It was a wake-up call.

From that point on, I started spending less time with those who didn’t take tennis seriously and more time with people who had real goals and wanted to achieve something. That shift changed my mindset completely. I began focusing on improving and surrounding myself with people who shared my ambitions.

Now that I’m at university, I’m part of a team where everyone has the same goal: to win our conference championship. The competitiveness among us is incredible, and it motivates me every day. Being around people who push themselves to be better makes me want to work harder and improve too.

Of course, we’re still college students—we go out and have fun sometimes—but the strength of our team is that we hold each other accountable. If someone goes too far, the group steps in, and we bring that person back on track. We’re more than a team; we’re like a family. Having a circle like this, where everyone genuinely wants the best for each other, is one of the biggest reasons I’ve grown so much.

Honestly, I don’t think anything pushes you to reach your best level more than being surrounded by the right people. A good team, a strong circle of friends—those are the people who guide you and keep you focused on your goals. It’s something not every university has, and I’m grateful to be part of it.

In fact, where I went, I wasn’t part of the team, but I was friends with some of them. And there were people who really didn’y want it. It’s true, they were on the tennis team because they were good at tennis and liked it, but they didn’t have the ambition to win, right?

What I really admire about your situation is that you have a team where everyone is pushing for the same goal—everyone wants to win. And what’s beautiful about tennis is that all the people involved have grown up with the sport and have a competitive drive. 

They don’t see tennis as just a hobby; they want something more than that. That’s really amazing. The best part is that shared mindset.

The best thing about this team is that they don’t just care about themselves—they care about the entire team. We’re all pushing each other to improve, and there’s nothing better than that. The older guys, especially those in their final year, are the ones I look up to the most. They’re responsible, fun, and lead by example. They know when it’s time to work hard and when it’s time to have fun. I’m so happy to have them on the team, and honestly, coming here has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Initially, I had other offers, including one from Miami. Before deciding, I wasn’t even sure about going to university. I wanted to take a year to play professionally, but then I started thinking about balancing tennis with academics. I knew if I chose university, I wanted a school that excelled in both. Miami was a great option, but academically, I wanted something stronger.

Last year at the Orange Bowl, I was talking to a coach I know in Florida, and he mentioned the second coach from Berkeley. He introduced us, and we had a long conversation. I didn’t know much about the school, but the coach came to watch my doubles match in the quarterfinals. He loved my energy and enthusiasm on the court—I’m someone who celebrates loudly when I win a point, and that’s the kind of player they look for in college tennis.

After that, I got in touch with the head coach at Berkeley, and we had more conversations. Around this time, I was leaning toward Miami, but my brother, who has always been my inspiration, helped change my mind. My brother, who lives in Miami, has built an incredible life for himself. He’s a Cornell graduate and has always been someone I look up to. When I told him about my offers, he immediately told me, “You’re crazy if you don’t pick Berkeley.” He didn’t even hesitate.

He emphasized how strong Berkeley is academically and said he’d even cover the costs if needed. His words convinced me, and my father agreed. We had almost decided on Miami, but my brother’s advice made me choose Berkeley. To this day, I’m so grateful for his guidance because it’s been an amazing decision—both for tennis and for my future.

I think you made a great decision with tennis. It’s given you both support in the sport itself and academically as well, which is amazing. I’m really happy for you, truly.

So, to wrap things up, I wanted to ask you a general question about tennis and what it has taught you in life. It’s a broad question, but I’d really like to know—when you reflect on your life and how tennis has been such a big part of it, how do you think it has shaped your values or your way of seeing life and setting goals?

I think tennis has given me everything. Through tennis, I’ve met so many people, including my best friends, like Andrés Santamarta. The relationships I’ve built have been incredible. Beyond relationships, tennis has also shaped my goals in life. It’s something I want to dedicate myself to completely, pushing to reach the highest level I can.

Tennis has taught me countless lessons, but the most important one is resilience. No matter how many times you lose or feel defeated, you can’t give up. There have been so many moments when I’ve lost matches and thought, “I don’t want to play this sport anymore.” But after a few hours, my mindset shifts, and I’m ready to get back on the court. The key is to keep working, no matter how many setbacks you face, until you turn those losses into victories.

Recently, after coming back from an injury, I went through a rough patch. I couldn’t win matches, my training sessions were terrible, and I felt lost. There were moments when I doubted whether this was really for me. But with the help of a team therapist, I worked through those thoughts, regained my focus, and improved my game. It’s a reminder of how tough this sport is. Few people understand how emotionally draining tennis can be.

Sometimes you don’t even know how to feel—whether to cry, get angry, or smile. The mental side of the game is as demanding as the physical, and managing those emotions is a daily challenge.

Tennis is unique because, while you have a team—coaches, family, and supporters—you’re ultimately alone on the court. That solitude teaches you how to handle pressure and manage emotions in a way that few other experiences can. It also shapes your personality, both on and off the court. Tennis demands discipline, resilience, and constant self-improvement, but it also gives you the strength to face challenges head-on. It’s hard, but that’s what makes it so rewarding.

This is the last question, then there are 2 more, but they’re short, fun-fact kind of questions. So, the last one is: If you could sit down with your younger self—whether it’s 12 years old, 15, or 16—and you had to tell yourself something to improve or to face a specific situation differently, what would you say?

Work harder now and never give up because, when I was younger, I used to give up too easily and didn’t work hard enough. If I could go back, I’d give my younger self a serious talk. I’d tell him that if he had been more responsible, more focused, and worked harder back then, he’d be at a completely different level now.

When I was younger, I lacked consistency and discipline, and that impacted my tennis. If I’d had those qualities earlier, I’d be a much more responsible and hardworking player today. I’d tell my younger self to push through, to work until his legs couldn’t go anymore, and to never give up. I’m doing that now, but I wish I had started sooner.

That said, I’m still young and have time to improve. I want to stand out and reach the level of players like Rafael Jodar and Martín Landaluce, who are excelling right now. I’ve competed with them before and know I can compete with them again. They might have started earlier or worked harder back then, but I know I have the potential to reach their level.

This sport is all about persistence. Improvements often come in jumps, sometimes from one week to the next, even though it’s a long-term journey. So, I’ll keep working, giving myself opportunities, and staying committed. Who knows? That next breakthrough could be just around the corner.

Two last questions that are out of curiosity, what do you prefer to win a Grand Slam or be number one in the world?

Of course, winning a Grand Slam is the ultimate goal. The adrenaline of winning match point, the entire stadium erupting, and that feeling—I don’t think any other tournament can match it. Being number one is great and shows you’ve won many tournaments, but a Grand Slam carries the most prestige. Winning one is the biggest achievement in tennis.

I totally agree. Even at lower levels, the feeling of winning a tournament is incredible. To imagine that feeling at the level of a Grand Slam must be unreal. It has to be an absolutely amazing experience.

Last question, who was your tennis idol growing up?

I don’t have one single favorite player because I like different things about all of them. But if I had to choose an idol, it would be Rafa Nadal. I’ve watched him since I was a kid, and he’s always been incredible. He’s the player who has put Spain on the map for tennis, and wherever you go—whether it’s the U.S. or anywhere else—everyone knows who Rafa is.What he’s achieved for Spain and tennis is unbelievable. He’s shown consistency, grit, and passion over the years, and that’s why he’s my idol.

That said, the player I’ve admired most in recent years is Jannik Sinner. As a thin player myself, I relate to him. He’s not bulky or extremely strong, yet he hits the ball so hard. 

His mobility, power, and fighting spirit inspire me. Plus, he seems like such a good person; his interviews always show his humility and character.

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