Before the first ball was even struck, the 1997 French Open was being hailed as the most wide open Grand Slam in recent memory. For every potential contender, there was a nagging question. On the men's side, Pete Sampras was the nominal #1 seed, but he came into Paris without a '97 win on clay, his least favorite surface. Vaunted "King of Clay" Thomas Muster seemed the more likely favorite, but he too had struggled through miserable results on the European dirt. Defending champion Yevgeny Kafelnikov still appeared rusty in his comeback from the injury which put him out of the Australian Open. Spanish threats Alex Corretja, Felix Mantilla, and Albert Costa had never reached the semis of a Slam. Neither had flashy but mercurial Marcelo Rios of Chile. Chang, Moya, Bruguera, Courier, and Ivanisevic were all struggling as the men made their way to the "terre battue."

Likewise, the women's singles draw was long on question marks and short on sure things. Martina Hingis and Steffi Graf hobbled into Paris on wounded knees, while Monica Seles had failed to collect a title in '97. Mary Pierce -- inconsistent. Lindsay Davenport -- unproven at the Slams. Perennial contenders Arantxa Sanchez Vicario and Conchita Martinez -- slumping. Jana Novotna -- no fan of the dirt. Anna Kournikova and Venus Williams -- too green to be ready for the challenging red clay. Mary Joe Fernandez and Amanda Coetzer -- not strong enough in the era of "Big Babe Tennis".

It was a cynic's dream, with a hasty retort for every possible champion you could think of. However, didn't you all figure two of the above names would find their names printed in the French Open record books when all was said and done in 1997? There was no way to be sure which usual suspects would come through, but surely one big name man and one big name woman would be up to the task. Be honest -- none of you looked into your crystal balls and saw the trophies being kissed by Gustavo Kuerten and Iva Majoli.

This was a fortnight unlike any other, however. Being seeded seemingly a disadvantage; being famous seemingly a curse. One by one the brightest of the sport's stars fell back to Earth. Ivanisevic felled by Magnus Gustafsson, Courier ousted by Magnus Larsson, Sampras done in by Magnus Norman (the first week was a good time to be named Magnus). The Spanish Armada saw its fleet sink one by one: Moya was taken five sets by one qualifier, then shot down by another; Costa and Corretja were gone before the quarters; Mantilla gone before the third round; and '94 finalist Alberto Berasategui gone before he could even complete his opening match. A talented guy from Morocco named Hicham Arazi was too much for Rios, Patrick Rafter chipped and charged his way past Wimbledon king Richard Krajicek, and Michael Chang finally ran out of answers against two-time champ Sergi Bruguera.

Oh, and then there was this 20-year-old from Brazil named Gustavo Kuerten. He shocked the purists with his yellow and blue outfit, then shocked some of the best clay court players on the planet with his confident, multi-faceted game. Surely a young man who had never reached an ATP Tour final would wilt against the likes of Muster, Kafelnikov, and reigning Hamburg champ Andrei Medvedev. Surely in any other year, perhaps, but not in the topsy turvy world of Roland Garros circa 1997. Each was shown in the door in five dramatic sets, coming oh so close to victory only to have it snatched away by a skinny, amiable chap they call "Guga."

Whereas Kuerten was a new name to all but the die hard fans (most of whom discovered him earlier this year in Davis Cup play), all veteran French Open watchers knew Sergi Bruguera. They may have wondered where he'd been, however. Injuries and faltering confidence had left Bruguera searching in vain for victories. He got his game back together at the '97 Lipton, however, blasting Chang and Sampras out of Key Biscayne before losing in the final. After some shaky results back on his beloved clay, Bruguera put together another run at a French Open title. The rapidly diminishing crop of seeds made the task a little easier than it may have been otherwise, but the veteran deserved credit for holding it together where others had stumbled. He carried the momentum from his latest win over Chang into the quarterfinals, where Arazi showed his best and worst while exiting in four sets. When the smoke cleared with two rounds to go in men's singles play, the only pros left standing were one former champion, one fish out of water, one qualifier, and one "Guga".

The fish out of water was Rafter, whose relentless serve and volley game was finding surprising success on its least amenable surface. The still young Australian came to Paris a few years removed from "next big thing" status, his expected rise to the tennis stratosphere having been derailed by injuries and a fear of success. A more mature Rafter had been enjoying a fine comeback season, including a near victory over Pete Sampras in the Philadelphia final. Doubt about his clay court prowess was laid to rest when he left Krajicek, Mark Woodforde, and Galo Blanco in clouds of red dust on his way to the semifinals. He even made a gallant stand against Bruguera, taking an exciting first set tiebreak and coming awfully close to winning the third and fourth sets as well. Bruguera ultimately hit a few too many backhand passing shots, but not until Rafter had firmly reestablished himself as a classy contender.

The fourth figure in this bizarre pair of semifinals was totally unheralded Filip Dewulf of Belgium. Dewulf became only the third qualifier in Grand Slam history to reach the semifinals, conspiring with windy conditions to oust Corretja in the fourth round and ending Norman's dream run in the quarters. He didn't have enough left in the tank to beat Kuerten in their semifinal bout, but acquitted himself well with a solid performance. Not a bad run for a journeyman who came into the event ranked #122 in the world. Much like Rafter and Kuerten, Dewulf left his mark as a refreshingly humble player, genuinely thrilled and surprised to have accomplished so much in that surreal fortnight.

After everything that had preceded the men's final, it was little wonder another upset was in the works. Despite two weeks of excellent play and a wealth of clay court experience, Bruguera had one thing riding against him -- that #16 seed which hung around his name like an albatross. Never mind that it took injuries to Boris Becker, Thomas Enqvist, and Todd Martin for the Spaniard to grab this final seed. A seed, any seed, made one an endangered species at this tournament. The gritty baseliner had his moments in the men's singles final, but a third French Open victory simply wasn't in the cosmic cards for Bruguera.

Instead, it was 20-year-old Gustavo Kuerten fending off break points with the self-assured serenity of a fearless tour veteran. Playing for the memory of a father who didn't live to see him turn pro and for a nation far more well versed in soccer than tennis, Kuerten breezed to a 6-3, 6-4, 6-2 victory. The lanky newcomer with the gaudy clothes, goofy grin, and friendly demeanor showed up at Roland Garros with a #66 ranking and left with a Grand Slam championship. The draw everyone said would be wide open was in fact even more wide open than anyone could have predicted, yielding a refreshing new star for a sport whose constellation is never too full.

With all the insanity on the men's side, the women's singles results actually looked rather normal for the better part of two weeks. Hingis and Seles looked stronger than ever and the only top 7 seed to fall short of the fourth round was Novotna. Even the fourth round "upsets" were able to elicit a knowing nod of the head. Davenport had once again came up short in a major tournament, squandering a big lead against Croatian teen Iva Majoli and Martinez apparently played another round of "what's my motivation?" by flaming out against scrappy Coetzer. It didn't even come as a huge shock when the diminutive South African followed the win over Martinez by vanquishing Graf in the quarters. Coetzer had sent "the Golden Lioness" packing in two previous matches this season with a tireless defensive game that drives Graf bonkers.

The other stars who fell short of the semifinals had little to apologize for. Pierce put up a good fight for the home fans against Seles before losing in two close sets. Sanchez Vicario scored a series of impressive victories before running into a seriously rejuvenated Hingis in the quarters. Fernandez gave Seles all she could handle in a see-saw quarterfinal which went to 7-5 in the 3rd. All the minor surprises and non-surprises left the tournament with a pair of intriguing semifinals: #1 Hingis vs. #3 Seles and #9 Majoli vs. #11 Coetzer.

All the headlines went to the former matchup. The first two meetings between Hingis and Seles had been lightning quick blowouts in favor of the current #1, but the gal with the grunt gave "the Can't Miss Swiss" a major scare on the green clay of Hilton Head. Hingis escaped that match by rallying to win a third set tiebreak, but would she be able to squeak past Seles again in her first tournament back from knee surgery? The answer was yes, but only barely. Key errors on big points cost Seles the victory she so desperately wanted to win for herself as well as for her ailing father. A jubilant Hingis passed the 2 1/2 hour test and advanced to a singles final which was virtually an afterthought after the dramatic semifinal.

If it's possible to advance to a Grand Slam singles final quietly, that is exactly what Iva Majoli did. None of her matches leading up to the title bout were televised in the United States; not even the semifinal against Coetzer. In a match full of service breaks, Majoli finally pulled through by a 7-5 third set count. Majoli had somehow found her way to her first Grand Slam final, but the next morning's headlines were not for her. Basking in the glow of a 40 match winning streak, Hingis was confident about a win in the final. The experts agreed, leaving only Majoli herself thinking this wacky French Open had one big stunner left over for the women.

Although the semifinals were played on Thursday and the final on Saturday, the tide may have turned on Friday. Her fitness still somewhat lacking after the long layoff, Hingis was embroiled in a marathon doubles semifinal. She and Sanchez Vicario fell to #1 seeds Gigi Fernandez and Natasha Zvereva in a 2 1/2 hour epic which went to 10-8 in the third. Perhaps the combined effects of this match and the singles tussle with Seles had sapped the last of Hingis's energy. It certainly looked that way on Saturday.

A surprisingly lethargic Hingis looked almost disinterested as Majoli pressured her time and time again with deadly groundstrokes. A long bathroom break and an injury timeout taken by Hingis succeeded only in sending more crowd favor her opponent's way. In an utter shocker, the Croatian sensation put together a nearly flawless 6-4, 6-2 upset of the world's #1 player. In warmly congratulating her former doubles partner, Hingis smiled for one of the first times all afternoon.

While the tennis world fixed its gaze on Hingis, Graf, and Seles, Majoli kept plugging away, overcoming adversity at every turn. Whether it was a 7-5, 4-0 deficit against Davenport, an emotional three hour duel with pal Ruxandra Dragomir, or the bad cold which kept her awake most of the night before the Coetzer match, Majoli simply would not let anything stand in her way.

Although very well liked by her peers and regarded for several years as the heir apparent to Monica Seles, Majoli's career appeared to have hit a big bad brick wall in 1997. Heartbreaking losses kept piling up, with match points in her favor turning into devastating defeats at the hands of Venus Williams, Jana Novotna, and Anke Huber. Majoli was becoming paralyzed when forced to close out matches, unable to hit a good serve to save her life in the late stages of an Amelia Island semifinal against Mary Pierce. Her season turned around with a title in Hamburg, however, and Majoli was back on track when her favorite Grand Slam tournament began.

In a year of upsets at the French Open, Iva Majoli saved the biggest surprise for last and jumped from relative obscurity into the annals of tennis history. After two weeks relegated to the back pages, Majoli's bright smile was front and center on that surprising Saturday. Something tells me we will be seeing Majoli and Kuerten flash their pearly whites for many years to come.