Tennis Chatter

The Australian Open will be next week and I am sure it will generate a blast of smorgasbord stories. So before a wave of the famous Australian heat comes aburning, let us digress as early as now to other quirky matters.

Let’s talk about hair.

Last year, Britain’s number one player and currently no. 15 in the world rankings Andy Murray could not seem to make up his mind about a change of hairstyle. He admitted that his personal barber for a long time was either his girlfriend or himself…using nail scissors. That explains a lot.

So he passed the buck to his fans via a hair poll on his website. Sweet, isn’t it? Yeah, I thought so. I mean, once in a while the famous do have the temerity to ask ordinary mortals for help, right? What can you do? It’s a symbiotic world. He even shared matter-of-factly in one interview, “I never brush it when I get up in the morning, and I never put any products in it. I do wash it, though.” Well, that would do, Andy.

Eventually he had his thick unruly mop snipped for a good cause partly by DJ Scott Mills. The £10,000 raised went to Children in Need, an annual British charity organized by BBC.

Hmmm…what’s next? Dental bleaching?

On the other hand, Belgium’s Xavier Malisse scored some points last week. First, he focused on his focus problem which often was a thorn on his road to reaching his full potential. No reported tempers rising happened, another major point. He won his second ATP title in Chennai against Austria’s Stefan Koubek 6-1, 6-3 although the surprise of the week was snatching a feather for his professional cap from the much disappointed world no. 2 Rafael Nadal in the semifinals (Rafael, you are slipping in all surfaces but clay). He also won the doubles title with compatriot Dick Norman against, what do you know, Rafael Nadal and fellow Spaniard Bartolome Salva-Vidal! Xavier’s only title came at Delray Beach in 2005. Minor point: he was once linked to Jennifer Capriati.

Going back to the hair, last year I found this tennis player’s mane disturbing…and painful! Ouch! It was like a homemade facelift exercise. HAIRY-ble!

Good thing the ponytail went kaput this year. That was not a lucky charm at all. Let’s face the fact that Federer Jr. is not yet born. Xavier’s good looks now shine clearer and his confidence is obviously off to a good start.

No one has it all.

I was somewhat whining to my best friend who is at the other side of the world about some very lucky individuals seemingly having it all. With full wisdom she gently reminded me that they only look like it and I should know better.

The Belgian press has been reporting the rocky stage of Justine Henin’s marriage to Pierre Yves Hardenne. The personal problem cited for her withdrawal from the Australian Open has finally gained face and several speculations are now currently circulating the tennis community.

Justine always comes across to me as an extremely focused and determined giant despite her petite form. She can explode anytime in the court with her all-around game. These days betray that her life which is often characterized with mystery and aloofness has its fragility. For sure this setback shows in Juju’s face for hers is a countenance that seldom successfully displays a veneer of being “OK� in depressing situations.

Society sometimes loves to put an ambitious woman down as if she is an anathema to Mother Earth. Because of a woman’s multiple roles in society today, to achieve balance in their private lives is no mean feat. It is indicative of one’s priorities.

There is more to Justine, I am sure. Athletes know how to figure things out in difficult situations. That is their instinct. However, an athlete is foremost a human being before anything else. And suffering is part of being human.

As the saying goes, you cannot put a good woman down. People should know better.

This time nobody stole Jeca’s thunder. Jelena Jankovic opened 2007 with a win by earning her second title at the ASB Classic in Auckland, New Zealand. She convincingly defeated fifth-seed Russian Vera Zvonareva 7-6(9), 5-7, 6-3 in an almost three-hour match.

The 21-year old Serbian is one of most talented players to watch this year in the Sony Ericsson WTA Tour. It would seem that she is determined to put her experience during the first half of 2006 way behind her. The sometimes tempestuous player (recall the U.S. Open flareup with the umpire during her match with Henin-Hardenne) had the misfortune of losing her opening matches ten times in a row between January to May 2006. Out of sheer frustration, the 2001 former Junior No. 1 almost traded her racket for a college diploma.

She was the best student in all the schools she has attended (Serbian, French, American schools). The premium that Jelena is putting on a university education is a logical offshoot of having economists as parents in a close-knit family. It continues to be a big goal in her life. A very wise decision, indeed it is!

Jelena’s breakthrough year happened in May 2004 when she won her first WTA Tour singles title in Budapest. She had her taste of what the possibility would look like in the big arena of tennis in the second half of 2006 when she beat Russian Elena Dementieva in straight sets in the 2006 U.S. Open to reach the semifinals before eventual finalist Justine Henin-Hardenne took her out of contention.

Her mean forehand is a weapon of choice and her two-handed backhand is not to be underestimated in producing winners (ask Serena Williams how she struggled in their 2005 semifinal match in Dubai).

Jelena is one of the most animated and articulate tennis players in the tour. She is currently ranked no. 12 in the world.

Here’s to the hope that she will be more consistent this year.

There is an unwritten professional ethic that unless you are dead or dying you have to do what you have to do.

The recent earthquake in Taiwan left our network cables in tatters. Our virtual reality has been in total blackout for days.

Repair has been like a crawling hundred year old turtle. Timing is the key to log into the internet nowadays otherwise one gets a daily dose of frustration. Most people have lives to live outside their PCs as well, yes, thank God! Even calling overseas is tedious and telephone operators’ ears and noses are actually breathing fire from hearing customer complaints coming at full merciless speed. Lest we forget, customers are always right. Despite delays and to make up for some days’ absence beyond my control I will try to do multiple postings in a day.

In fairness I am pretty sure that network servicemen are working overtime to fix the problem. Cables were supposed to be buried underneath the ocean so frogmen are now starting to grow gills in their long exposure to water.

Since internet service is a marketing construct brought about by technological outburst, Asia went catatonic for a while when all electronic lines were disabled after the earthquake. Pre-internet days are dragging things in slothful pace. You can feel a silent panic happening since isolation is not anymore a sound policy today. Something in this manner: “No internet? Fine! Still no in connection? How long would this go on? Tennis season is already starting and I have deadlines! Oh, my, what should I do? I have forgotten how to write long hand now!�

Here’s the scoop: this is the best time to stop and smell the flowers.

For the longest of time I could not digest the reason why some people play tennis until midnight on any given working week. I initially thought it was just for health reasons but when I learned the hours they spent in the tennis courts around my beautiful city, I began to scratch my head in wonder.

Learning the sport was gradual. In my mind I was spitting expletives on how in the world the grip can affect the spin of that small yellow ball. Coming towards a beginner’s face it should have been engraved with “eyes on the ball!� since that rule is as staple as hearing in music appreciation.

How I finally got to learn the grip, the stroke, the serve, the bloody footwork, heck, the proper breathing, and my preferred battle cry is another story I will elaborate some other time. For now, suffice it to say that once I have learned the sport, I wondered no more about the hours “wasted� in playing it. It was one of those seldom times that I relinquished my freedom to complain. I had my fill of that with soccer, badminton, softball, volleyball, basketball, mountain climbing, even chess! Not tennis. While learning, I was a picture of patience. Once I have become competent, I long for more and more hours to play if only my arms and shoulders allow.

The very freedom tennis provides the individual to attack the ball is astounding. Execution is instinctive yet calculated. The joy of mental estimation is inescapable. It is artistic yet very physically demanding. The court becomes a microcosm of life in motion and you as the player are alone to figure your way around it. That is the very reason why the on-court coaching started by the WTA last year is a gag. What brings out the hysterics is the reaction of some players who insist (like robots) that they play by instinct yet openly cheat in front of millions (code: banana fingers).

Tennis is also an expensive sport. I studied it seriously the moment I landed my first job. One look at me and my first instructor’s initial concern was “I will understand if you find it too expensive and quit later on.� It is different being underestimated for your looks; it is another matter if you are underestimated for your capacity to pay. He made it totally easy for me to kick him out.

Curiously, some of my young court associates talked about playing the sport in their old age, imagining themselves calling each other up in that exaggerated wobble of old people’s voice, “Hey buddy! Tennis tonight?� Conversations like that often illicit laughter and playful bantering.

Oddly enough, I do not see it as an impossible scenario (old men and women swinging rackets is recreational to the eyes). Only one reason will move us to continue this sport: LOVE.

You cannot be serious! I am no McEnroe but that was my initial reaction to Martina Hingis’s recent engagement to 28-year old Czech Radek Stepanek. Currently in Queensland as a top for the Mondial Australian Women’s Hardcourt championships, she broke the news to colleagues while practicing at the Gold Coast. She is currently sporting her signature sparkling smile coupled with a new diamond ring.

Love proved to be lovelier the second time around as the pair were said to be childhood sweethearts before they went about their separate business as teeners. They hooked up again last June. He was her hitting partner during the WTA Championships in Madrid. She was a picture of a supportive loved one during Wimbledon and the Madrid Masters.

Publicly, the 25-year old Hingis has been known to date Magnus Norman, Ivo Heuberger, Justin Gimelstob, Sergio Garcia, and Julian Alonso. She was also linked to England soccer star Sol Campbell and the man who successfully prosecuted her stalker, Florida Assistant State Attorney Christopher Calkin.

Stepanek and Hingis are quite a peculiar pair. She is the inimitable Swiss Miss, he is known to execute the worm dance victory celebration. Fashion-wise she is not a drag at all, he once wore a hideous-looking striped black and white umpire shirt during a match. Alright, opposites attract. And love rules!

Heard that Kirsten Dunst’s grandmother wanted her famous petite granddaughter to be with the Swiss world number one Roger Federer. Kirsten once portrayed the character of a professional tennis player in the 2004 movie Wimbledon alongside Paul Bettany.

It has been a universal fact that Roger’s main asset is not really his superior play nor his sublime court artistry. It is Mirka! Why his opponents take the long road to figure him out is a puzzle. They only have to study Mirka if they want to beat Federer. She holds THE key! She is his Delilah, yes. Not even Kirsten’s Marie Antoinette can upstage Mirka in Federer’s life.

The young couple has become a comforting duo to gaze at over the years. They look so in sync and at home with each other, a rarity in the sports world as well as the current times.

The best Christmas gift that Lindsay Davenport must have received this year is her baby which is due in early summer. By the time she gives birth she will be 31 years old, a waning age for an athlete, sad to say. As the saying goes, hope for the best but expect the worst. If she ever decides to come back, although she earlier said that she “can’t imagine playing again,� she has to need a magic wand to play at a one hundred percent level to withstand the merciless tour.

Lindsay’s retirement has always been in between the lines of her interviews for some time now. I remember during this year’s U.S. Open where Andre Agassi’s farewell act was its marketing magnet, Lindsay was coy about a possible similar sendoff in case she decides to take the big “R�. After all, we are talking about one of the pillars of American women’s tennis.

Always under the radar, Lindsay was never known to lay her cards on the table (No definitions needed. Let others dig it themselves, God help them.) One can never picture her with an entourage fencing her from us mortals. She has always been the picture of grace, class, and earthiness. Now, a family with husband Jon Leach (they look kind of similar, don’t they?) is in the offing.

Having swung a tennis racket forever (she has one of the best ground strokes in the circuit), one can only imagine her excitement to embark on a new page in her young life. Yes, she is still young to have a long life ahead of her.

Not everyone can start life anew. As a wise saying goes, when a door shuts, a window is wide open.

We will miss Lindsay but we do wish her the best.

The holiday bug is generally characterized by generosity. For naturally generous people, giving is just their personality at work. For the tightwads, the holidays act like a dark force, a specter lurking over them egging their conscience to “give some love on Christmas day, man!�

Time is such a gift in this dog-eat-dog-and-master world. Capping his busy and bountiful year (he became the first tennis player in history to earn $8 million prize money in a single season), Roger Federer took an official trip to India recently in behalf of his work as a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador. No, he was not busy doing his ambassadorial wave while donning his famous Wimbledon off-white jacket but sat down with the tsunami-affected children of Tamil Nadu, the hardest hit of the tsunami that rocked Asia in 2004. Gee, it seemed like yesterday. Time does fly, doesn’t it? Yet for the victims, it seems that the clock has not ticked at all.

It is refreshing to see an insanely successful young man give something to the suffering humanity. Yes, I wrote “humanity� as opposed to tennis fans, sponsors, tennis associations and federations. Part of Roger’s charm is his willingness to be exposed to the other side of glamour. From the pages of Vogue to facing the tsunami victims, he makes the transition smooth because one can sense that he is compassionate by nature. The man cried buckets when he won Wimbledon and held the Australian Open trophy, for crying out loud! Oh, and expect him to shed more tears of joy when his face will be reflected in the shiny French Open trophy in 2007.

Expectations are high from those who have far less to those who have it in plentiful. Roger Federer shared his precious time to inspire the children of the east this holiday season. In return, they subtly taught him the priceless meaning of appreciation. To state the obvious, The Champ aced 2006 even off the court.

It is that time of year when sports columns are devoted to its
annual wrap-ups…the best, the worst, the comebacks, the meltdowns, the funniest, the most memorable, the least memorable (alright, the last one was a stretch).

As this is my maiden post, I have nothing to wrap-up. I could actually produce one but it would be like doing the best research of your adult life only to be told the very next day that someone else had written and published exactly the same thing a month before.

I can, however, wrap myself warm during this cold season’s late nights. My tennis racket is not exactly comforting me in those moments but it brings out the sweat off my palms during early evening matches with court associates. The latter would mean people who work extremely hard during the day and who turn tennis court habitués after office hours. In my milieu, they are the ones who shout expletives when a forehand goes long or an attempted cross court shot goes anywhere but in the court; those who celebrate a winner with a yelling “Yes!�; those who I swear cannot sleep on nights they lose a friendly match; those who have an encyclopedic knowledge of tennis equipment (one almost seems to be the human Google); the loved ones who ad infinitum support the previous types, to name just a few.

The end depends upon the beginning. I heard it in a movie once. I choose a fiscal year so the end of 2006 is my beginning.

I think I just had my most memorable Christmas gift this year.