By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
Do you remember when it was a big deal for Serena and Venus
Williams to square off in the finals of a Grand Slam tournament? For the record, they’ve done so 7 times with
Serena holding a 5-2 edge (they are 8-8 overall against each other). Well, they played in the finals at Wimbledon
a couple weeks ago and the match passed practically without mention, certainly
without major fanfare. Some of this
apathy has to do with decline of general interest in tennis, some of it to do
with the historic battle on the men’s side between Roger Federer and Rafael
Nadal. Still, these are the Williams
sisters; yet their showdown in tennis’ most storied tournament couldn’t even
grab the headlines in their sport (Federer/Nadal did), much less carve out a
healthy slice of Sportcenter. And did
you know Serena Williams played for the Washington Kastles, her Washington
D.C.-based team of the World Team Tennis (WTT) league, a couple weeks ago? Me either.
It was merely a footnote in the local sports pages. Did you even know she was on the WTT’s D.C.
team? Be honest. I didn’t.
What is happening here?
When did not just Venus and Serena, but Venus vs. Serena, at Wimbledon,
become bologna and cheese on Wonder bread?
(If you consider that an exciting lunch, my apologies…work with me
here) Combined these two women have
dominated tennis for a decade, winning 15 combined Grand Slam titles (Venus 7,
Serena 8). And from the moment they
arrived, the stale tennis establishment had no idea how to handle them. The sisters were not the next generation of
conservatively clad, light-hitting products of a privileged tennis
academy. Oh no, they were athletic,
powerful, expressive and, oh by the way, African American. They learned the game, not at the esteemed
Nick Bollettieri Tennis Academy, but on public courts in Compton, CA. They were taught by their eccentric and
controversial father Richard, a man whose brutal honesty and overbearing and
controlling nature left many concerned about his influence on his two young
daughters. To oversimplify, Venus,
Serena and Richard were different and unconventional. This made the media, opponents and fans uncomfortable, and this
discomfort often spawned criticism.
Certainly the outrageous Richard has provided much material to critique
and some of the criticism of Venus and Serena is justified. Have they always dedicated themselves to
being all they could be on the court? Flatly,
no. They have both had periods during
their careers when tennis was not a priority.
That has annoyed fans and many elite former players. The expectation of course is that any player
with such a gift for the game should be completely dedicated, single-minded in
their approach, until their physical abilities are exhausted. Yet tennis is only a component of Venus and
Serena the people, it does not define them.
Maybe Serena will squander a chance to be best player ever. Perhaps Venus will miss an opportunity to
challenge Martina Navratilova’s record of 9 Wimbledon titles (she’s won
5). But those goals seem less important
to the Williams’ than to tennis’ brass.
After a decade of excellence, albeit not always sustained,
and 15 combined Grand Slams, what did we expect from the Williams sisters? Would we have rather had them burn out at
age 22 like Tracy Austin? Or was our
expectation that they follow the path of Jennifer Capriati, who by 22 was fried
and revolting against the weight of premature expectations? Or what about Martina Hingis who holds many
of tennis’ “youngest ever” records? She
was #1 in the world at 17, retired at 22, attempted a comeback four years later
and is now serving a two-year ban for cocaine use. Is that what we wanted?
Would we have been more entertained had they possessed the competitive
drive of Chris Evert, a drive that often made tennis seem joyless for her at
times? They didn’t call her the Ice
Princess for nothing. For over 10 years
now the Williams sisters have spent an unfair amount of time under the
microscope, an on-going analysis so intense and overboard it blurred the line
between sports journalism and tabloid garbage.
Now it seems the media has poked and prodded them to the point of
exhaustion: the media’s exhaustion.
After all this time, the cynical research project has unearthed nothing
more than two accomplished, grounded and well-rounded individuals, which by
media standards is boring. So boring in
fact that little notice is taken of an all-Williams Grand Slam final. And hasn’t hindsight’s view dictated we view
their kooky father Richard with a little more respect? Maybe this guy had it figured out the whole
time. He taught his girls the game and,
despite awaiting riches, was extremely protective of their early exposure to
professional tennis. He also left them
with a deep love and respect for one another that transcends the game. Venus and Serena have never, regardless of
the stakes or the tennis establishment’s desire, enjoyed playing one
another. They are sisters first,
competitors second. Richard also
obviously taught them that the world doesn’t revolve around tennis as both
women have significant interests off the court. And for all the fuss Richard caused early in his daughters
careers, he stealthily slipped into the background as his little girls became
young woman.
At age 28 and 26 respectively, the Williams sisters are
likely entering the twilight of their careers.
I suppose, given its pursuit of controversy, the media’s lukewarm
reaction to this year’s Wimbledon final could be considered complimentary. I saw it as a missed opportunity. Now is the time to celebrate these young
women who, despite a constant watchful eye, have remained responsible and
dignified. They have consistently
represented themselves and their country well.
And with so many other interests and opportunities, they could be gone
from the court in a flash. They don’t
need tennis as much as tennis needs them.
These two sisters deserve our admiration, not criticism, our attention,
not apathy.
Extra Innings: Golf
is a game played mostly between your ears.
Want proof? This past weekend,
53-yr-old Greg Norman led the British Open after three rounds and finished tied
for third. Norman hadn’t won a
tournament since 2001 and hadn’t played in a major in three years. Yet he arrived at the Royal Birkdale course
to play a little golf on his honeymoon (he recently married the aforementioned
Chris Evert). After a couple squirts
from the Tin Man’s oil can, the veteran proceeded to shock and amaze the golfing
world. Now I won’t feel so bad the next
time my 60-yr-old dad schools me over 18 holes at Breton Bay.
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