At Wimbledon 2025, where the grass courts of the All England Club hum with the dreams of tennis titans like Carlos Alcaraz, Emma Raducanu, and Novak Djokovic, one man works tirelessly behind the scenes, helping these stars shine. Adam Jones, a 27-year-old Briton ranked 1,513th in the world, is one of Wimbledon’s unsung heroes, serving as a hitting partner for some of the sport’s biggest names. For the past four years, Jones has been a vital cog in the Wimbledon machine, mimicking opponents’ styles to prepare players for their matches. Yet, despite his critical role, he earns just £125 a day—a modest sum compared to the millions at stake for the players he trains. His story is one of passion, perseverance, and a love for the game that keeps him grinding, both at Wimbledon and on the unforgiving Futures Tour.
Jones’s role as a hitting partner is far from glamorous, but it’s indispensable. Stationed at the Aorangi Park practice courts, he tailors his game to replicate the playing styles of upcoming opponents, giving stars like Alcaraz, Raducanu, Djokovic, Amanda Anisimova, and Belinda Bencic a competitive edge. For instance, before Alcaraz faced Jan-Lennard Struff, known for his booming serve, Jones positioned himself a meter inside the baseline, “nuking serves” to mimic Struff’s power. “It’s a great gig and a fun way to earn some money,” Jones shared, his enthusiasm undimmed by the modest paycheck. The role demands versatility and precision, as he adapts to the unique challenges each player’s next opponent presents, from Djokovic’s relentless baseline game to Anisimova’s aggressive groundstrokes.
Born in Birkenhead and trained in Wrexham and Bath before moving to California, Jones is no stranger to the grind of professional tennis. A player himself on the ITF Futures Tour—the lowest rung of the pro ladder—he knows the financial and emotional toll of chasing a dream. “The Futures Tour is a rat race, the finances are absolutely brutal,” he admitted, recounting a recent tournament where he earned just $37 after a qualifying loss, while hotel costs soared to $150 a night. To save money, he once spent six hours hiding in a train toilet from London to Glasgow. Yet, his time at Wimbledon, where he’s one of about a dozen hitting partners, offers a brief respite. The £125 daily rate, supplemented by a food allowance and access to racket stringers and physios, provides a small but welcome boost.
Jones’s journey has been shaped by both sacrifice and opportunity. Last year, he traveled for six months with top player Donna Vekic, enjoying elite facilities and luxury hotels. But the pull of his own ambitions brought him back to the “jungle” of the Futures Tour. “It’s funny because when I was traveling the world with a top star, I actually missed the Futures,” he said. “You’ve got to remember where you came from. Remember the grind.” His ultimate goal is clear: to return to Wimbledon not as a hitting partner but as a competitor, ideally in doubles. “Next year I want to be back at Wimbledon—playing doubles. That’s the goal,” he declared, his focus set on climbing the rankings through Futures events in Illinois and the ATP Challenger Tour.
The contrast between Jones’s modest earnings and the fortunes of the players he trains is stark. Wimbledon’s 2025 prize pool totals £53.5 million, with singles winners pocketing £3 million and even first-round losers like Raducanu earning £63,000. Yet, Jones harbors no resentment. His love for the game and the thrill of standing across the net from legends like Djokovic, a seven-time Wimbledon champion, fuel his drive. “When people see you’re a tennis player and see you’re at Wimbledon, they think you have loads of money and live a luxurious life,” he noted, debunking the misconception with a laugh. For Jones, the real reward is being part of Wimbledon’s magic, even if it’s away from Centre Court’s spotlight.
As Wimbledon 2025 unfolds, with Alcaraz chasing a third straight title and Raducanu battling to reclaim her 2021 US Open form, Jones remains the invisible force helping them prepare. His story underscores the grit behind the glamour, a reminder that every forehand winner and diving volley owes a debt to those like him, toiling for love of the game.
Leave a Reply