She only had 92,000 reasons to win the Australian Open.
After all, just five months ago, Serena Williams imploded in New York and her late night x-ranted rant, prompted many to say that she should be banned from even playing in Melbourne. Instead she was fined $92,000.
Serena was not pleased. And it’s not such a swell idea to get little sis Williams mad. Remember that when her then-boyfriend, NFL star Lavar Arrington, told her to take a hike, the jilted gal went on a crazy-good tear, winning the Serena Slam as she collected four straight Slams. Now again, after her big humiliation in the Big Apple, she was more-than-motivated.
Okay, at the U.S. Open, she had lost to the Belgian mommy, Kim Clijsters. Now in Melbourne — looking like a mummy in all her bandages — she was determined to provide on-court first aid for her battered ‘n tattered reputation. Focused and powerful – her serve on fire and winning her doubles matches with sister “V” on her off days – she plowed through a beloved Aussie (Sam Stosur), a Belarus basher (Victoria Azarenka) and a rising Chinese dynamo (Li Na).
It hardly seemed to matter who was on the other side of the net. Yet, on other side of the draw — a cloud was on the horizon. There loomed her greatest rival, yet another twentysomething Belgian star forging an unbelievable comeback – the mighty mite, Justine Henin — inch-for-inch the craftiest competitor the woman’s game has ever produced.
But, in the beginning, conventional wisdom told us it would be a modest miracle if the feisty Lady of Leige (Belgium) survived her side of the draw. Her “quarter from hell” featured the likes of Elena Dementieva, Kim Clijsters and Svetlana Kuznetsova.
But Henin has always relished spitting in the face of conventional wisdom.
- Little ladies don’t win in this era of “Big Babe Tennis.”
- One just doesn’t ever quit in the final of a Slam (think of her ‘no mas’ moment at the ’06 Aussie final).
- You never, ever just walk away from the sport when you’re No. 1.
- You always go to the dance with the game that got you there.
But “Ms. Impossible is Nothing” is nothing if not stubborn. So, inspired by Mr. Wonderful Roger Federer and Mommy Dearest, Kim Clijsters, and determined to finally win Wimbledon, she fell back into the welcoming arms of tennis, the alluring lover she abandoned just 20 months ago.
But always the Euro-thinker – uber intense, never quite at ease and addicted to challenge – it was not enough just to come back with her old, tried and true game based on speed, defense, grit, smarts, dazzling variety and the most beautiful backhand God ever created. How boring?
Instead, the little engine that could would re-tool her package (that had only gained her seven Slams) into a much bigger, grass-court friendly game: heavier serve and forehand, bold net-charging forays, and an “I’m in charge” first strike mentality that attempted to dictate points.
And it worked! While her once fierce draw imploded as No. 2 seed Dinara Safina, Svetlana Kuznetsova, Clijsters, Maria Sharapova and Jelena Jankovic bid adieu), she handily took care of business, sweeping aside three Russians (including Dementieva and Nadia Petrova,) two fellow-Belgians and Jie Zheng — one of those delightfully surprising, who invited you to the semis, Chinese stars.
So, having plowed the field, Justine was now ready to harvest her championship.
But not so fast. Women’s tennis (drum rolls please) had at last produced a sizzling final. Justine’s foe would not be some not-ready-for-primetime Russian who would meekly lay down and fold her tent (think Safina or Dementieva), a sweet teen wannabe (like U.S. Open finalist Caroline Wozniacki) and it would not be one of those all-Williams family semi-snooze-fests.
No, here was a dream final featuring the two fiercest champions of our era: the back where she once belonged lightweight battler and the heavyweight bomber who, despite having 11 majors in her trophy case, very much needed to show the world a thing or two. Here were two No. 1s who had 18 Slams between them, yet inexplicably had never met in a major final.
Keenly aware of the moment, the American who has called herself “Rebel X” and says “you need a wild streak…You need to put it out there that you’re reckless and unpredictable,” predictably began the battle with an imposing ace.
But oh-so-predictably, Henin promptly fought her way to three break points in the first game. But, in a precursor of the destiny of the day, the Belgian could not convert. Serena held. Again in the third game, Henin had two more break points. Again she fell short. Dispirited and wondering “what if,” Justine played a loose game and was promptly broken at love to go down 1-3. Let the see-saw battle begin!
Seeking to attack at every opportunity, unwilling to retreat to her traditional wheels ‘n savvy defensive style, with all it’s sprints and slices which open the court, Justine powered on and managed to break back to even the set at 4-4.
But her supposedly new serve, which had been problematic throughout the fortnight, again faltered. Hitting only 41 percent first serves, she gifted a key double fault and a backhand error, giving Serena her second break, which allowed Williams to go on to claim the first set, 6-4.
Now the stat sheet screamed out, the match was over. After all, Serena had won all 40 of her previous Aussie Open matches in which she won the first set. It’s true that Henin had, in her last Aussie Open final, quit with a stomach prob. But today, she had other ideas. Almost broken again, in the second game of the second set, she bounced off the ropes, surviving two break points to hold serve. Emboldened, she broke Serena at love, only to be stopped in her tracks, as Serena broke back. But Henin’s new-look aggressiveness was at last trending in the right direction. Flowing more freely and attacking Serena’s (best in the game) second serve, Henin found her groove, winning 15 straight points and five straight games en route to sending the match into a decisive final set, where as Boris Becker told us, it’s all about the mind and who wants it the most.
So a key question shouted out loud: is there any better closer in all of tennis, in all of sports than Serena (“tap that fury”) Williams? If Reggie Jackson was “Mr. October,” Serena is “Little Ms. Crunch Time.”
Never mind that Williams and Henin exchanged breaks early in the third set. Williams just stepped up, said enough is enough, and despite her fatigue, grabbed the match by the throat. Power and will in place, her imposing serve soared to a devastating dimension her diminutive foe just couldn’t handle .
Finally, this Aussie picture was coming into focus. An inspired lightweight was trying, almost deperately, to handle the blows of a great heavyweight sluggr, picking it up in the final breathless rounds. Now Henin, for all her heart, seemed over matched, as the Floridian — sensing history, tasting redemption – created seperation, winning the last four games and blasting a laser backhand to the open court to claim the championship bout 6-4, 3-6, 6-2.
Yes, Serena had defended her title (the first time she’s ever won down under in an even year). Her fifth Aussie title gave her her 12th Slam overall, tying her with her pal, another fiesty lady, Billie Jean King.
But more than this, it put all the (I’m going to shove it down your throat) ugliness of New York in the rear view mirror.
American sports fans who forgave the likes of Kobe Roberts after his rape trial, Alex Rodriquez after his steroid admissions and a lad named John McEnroe after his terrible tantrums, will now probably forgive Ms. Serena, who gave us more than 92,000 reasons to figure out that her competitive heart – intense and unflinching — is as grand as it is fierce.
