The First Qin Emperor would not have been disappointed with warrior David Ferrer. He probably would have immortalized him in his stunning mausoleum as one of his best generals at the head of a column of the incredible terracotta army. Centuries later, as well as those warriors, David Ferrer has just been discovered.

To dig into his past, into his inner self, is to discover a brave, demanding person, a natural-born competitor who has always remained loyal to those closest to him.

Ferrer grew up surrounded by tennis. His elder brother, Javier, was Spain's 12 and under champion and he himself earned a sports scholarship in Barcelona after promising junior results. But the transition from the junior circuit to professional tennis proved to be a very hard test.

In 1999 in his home town of Javea, Ferrer endured many periods of self doubt. Little progress was made, results weren't coming and hard questions about his future abounded. Each morning Ferrer would arrive at practice riding his small motorcycle, but within minutes it was obvious to coach Javier Piles that his interest had waned. Piles, who remains Ferrer's coach, employed drastic measures to motivate his young charge.

"When he didn't want to work I would lock him up in a dark room of two by two meters and I would put a lock on it so he couldn't get out," says Piles. "It was the room where we would store the tennis balls. I would tell him that his working schedule was from 9 to 12 and that if he didn't want to work he would remain there punished. I would give him a piece of bread and a bottle of water through the bars of a small window. After a few minutes we would hear David asking other trainers from the club for some help to get out but we wouldn't pay any attention."

Upon reflection, the punishment room was a metaphor of Ferrer's potential: Many people knew of his promise, yet no one seemingly could unlock it. Disenchanted, Ferrer hung up his racquets and took a job as a construction worker. "I wanted to quit tennis, but I didn't give up going out with my friends, so my father told me that if I needed money to have fun, I should make it working," Ferrer says. "I think in a week I learned to value many things. That is something difficult to achieve when you are 17 and have doubts about your future."

Ferrer spent a week loading bricks into a wheelbarrow and working from sunrise to sunset. He was exhausted and his weekly paycheck was just 30 Euros. That night, Ferrer called Piles to tell him that he would be on court at 9 am sharp the following morning.

Having experienced what working life is like for the masses, Ferrer realized that the life of a tennis professional was a more attractive proposition. He dedicated himself to the game and Piles never again had to lock him in the punishment room.

"The room is still there in the club, full of tennis balls," says Ferrer, who is one of the toughest competitors on the ATP Tour. "I think I have been the only tenant and Javier has never again threatened to put me back in," he adds with a laugh. "It was a very complicated stage in my life because, being barely 17, you don't really know what you want. Javier did what he should, like when a teacher punishes a student in school because of his bad behavior. Deep down he just wants his best. Once in there I didn't think much, I just wanted him to open the door so I could try to go train with more strength."