GALAXY GIRL

~ celebrating the silver anniversary of a golden summer ~

Tennis players usually get attention by winning big and winning often.  But legends operate on an entirely different plane of existence.  Legends need only appear. 

Which is what Venus Williams did last month when, with little notice, she accepted a wild card into a tournament in Washington, D.C. after not playing in more than a year (and playing only sporadically in the two years before that).  She still did some winning too; not big but not that it mattered.  At 45 years old she split two matches with quality opponents both ranked among the top 40 players in the world.  She even entered the doubles draw and won a round there as well.  All her matches were played before frenetic crowds who lived and died with Venus on every point.  And that’s not counting the many more, like me, who did the same in front of our television sets.  She was at it again this week in Cincinnati, saving a match point before falling to another player more than two decades her junior.  By the time she arrives in New York for the upcoming U.S. Open, fan frenzy for Venus should be at a fever pitch.     

By coincidence or design, we are enjoying this renaissance of Venus in what turns out to be a very special silver anniversary for her.  In the summer of 2000, Venus was getting attention the usual way by winning big and winning often as she produced the most dominant stretch of tennis in her long and illustrious career.  An electrifying 35-match win streak saw her claim six tournaments in quick succession: including Wimbledon, the U.S. Open, and the Olympics.  She was nearly as dominant the following summer when she became only the third (and still most recent) woman in professional tennis history to defend titles at both Wimbledon and the U.S. Open in the same year (it’s not Venus’ fault the Olympics aren’t annual). 

Television producers at the time invariably cued up the song “Venus” as her personal summer soundtrack, foregoing the 1960s original by the band Shocking Blue in favor of the 1980s Bananarama remake for that little extra girl-power-oomph.  It was an obvious choice, even if I had another anthem playing in my own head as I watched Venus roll through the tour.  Like any child of the 1970s and 80s, I had loved the series of animated vignettes known as Schoolhouse Rock!  And of all the cool characters that populated the series, none was cooler than Interplanet Janet; the galaxy girl from a future world mistaken for a shooting star as she traverses the universe.  As Venus hopped countries and continents scooping up all those trophies and medals, Janet’s song was the one I couldn’t stop hearing.       

Not that I was the only one making intergalactic connections to both Venus’ name and game.  When covering her wins, journalists could never pass up a good, celestially inspired headline (think She’s Out of this World! or Venus Rising!).  But there was one thematic detail we all overlooked and that turned out to be eerily prophetic; one that Janet herself points out on her guided tour through the galaxy: Venus, after all, is the second planet from the sun.  

While little sis Serena had sprung a surprise by taking the Williams family’s first grand slam singles title at the 1999 U.S. Open, Venus’ statement summers of 2000 and 2001 seemed to have restored order.  Heading into the 2002 French Open, her grand slam haul had risen to four while Serena remained stuck at one.  If I had been told then that one sister would win another three, while the other would go on to win another 22, I know where I would have placed my bet.  And I would have lost.  Because starting with that 2002 French Open, Serena completely flipped the script of the inevitable movie unfolding before our eyes.  She won four consecutive majors to sweep a non-calendar Grand Slam and, most amazing of all, she met and defeated Venus in the final of all four.  In doing so, she reclaimed the lead in the family grand slam tally; and this time she would never relinquish it.

As hard as it is to speculate on the dynamics of any family, we have all had unique front row seats to the Williams sisters.  We have seen them on court at their most intense in the heat of battle, and we have heard them in interviews at their most emotional in the immediate aftermath of dramatic victories and painful losses.  From all that anecdotal evidence, Venus saw her role in their relationship as one that was infinitely more protective and possibly more selfless.  I’ll never forget the sight of Venus, after losing that watershed French Open final in 2002, running to the stands for her camera so that she could take up-close photos of Serena at the trophy presentation.  And that’s just one of many moments where, win or lose, Venus had Serena front and center in her mind.  Don’t get me wrong.  Venus, like any other champion, loved to win and hated to lose.  She could be gleeful in victory and bitter in defeat…. when she was winning or losing against anyone other than Serena.  But Venus always found a way to limit her celebrations and mute her disappointments when it was her sister’s feelings that were involved.   

Serena?  Not so much.  She could be gracious and complimentary toward Venus as long as she was the one winning.  After she lost to Venus in the 2008 Wimbledon final, a win that remains Venus’ last major title, Serena rolled her eyes through a tense post-match press conference where the best she could muster, with some prodding, was a begrudging acknowledgment of happiness for her sister.  When a journalist remarked that she didn’t look so happy, Serena snapped back “I wonder why” and promptly walked out.  Even mom Oracene, usually the quiet one in the family (especially when compared to boisterous dad Richard), didn’t like what she observed that day and was unusually candid with the press herself when asked about Serena’s reaction to the loss.  A clearly exasperated Oracene sharply replied, “Well, she’s just going to have to learn how to suck things up!”  The only person who didn’t mind?  Venus, of course, who several times during her own press conference made a point of diverting attention from her victory by reminding everyone that Serena still had the better record overall.   

Much is made of an early interview from Venus’ childhood, where Richard harshly scolds a journalist for his line of questioning.  Now circulating on YouTube, and memorably recreated in the film King Richard, the moment plays out like a lion defending his cub.  Not so well known, but I think just as compelling, is a moment that reveals big sister Venus at her lioness best, and you can also track it down on YouTube.  It’s from a 2009 U.S. Open press conference with Venus and Serena after they had just won the doubles title as a team.  It was a routine victory for the sisters, but not so routine was the backdrop.  Less than 48 hours earlier, Serena had been eliminated in singles when she lost her cool after a controversial call had set up a match point against her; with the penalty that was then imposed for her outburst effectively ending the match. 

Serena was sharply criticized and heavily fined for her behavior but was allowed to remain in the doubles draw with Venus.  Facing the press after they won, the media pounced on Serena with question after question about her singles controversy.  As Serena was struggling to answer yet another, this one from a particularly condescending reporter, Venus politely stepped in and started speaking to give her sister some breathing room.  When the reporter dared to retort “I was asking her,” Venus tightened her shoulders, narrowed her eyes, and said, “Are you getting aggressive with me?”  She hadn’t even raised her voice, but it was as if she had changed the molecules in the room.  The reporter, who had been so rude just a moment earlier, was now the one stammering.  But Venus kept going: “Because I was about to say something and you interrupted me.  I let you say what you needed to say.  Thank you.”  Venus then proceeded to articulate a thoughtful statement on how the incident was both a commentary on the pressure of professional sport and an opportunity for personal growth.        

Serena is now among the most recent of many iconic female athletes, including other tennis greats like Chris Evert, who have spoken publicly about how it took motherhood for them to finally prioritize someone else after the necessary selfishness demanded of a life in competitive sport.  But Venus always seemed to have that instinct preternaturally.  She wasn’t the mother; she is in fact little more than one year older than Serena.  But that still made her the big sister, and she has spoken eloquently and lovingly through the years about just how much that has always meant to her.

None of this is to say that Venus should have won more, or Serena less.  Venus has always approached her profession the way she has lived her life; on her own terms.  First, she only played when and where she wanted to.  She didn’t chase ranking points and accepted the penalties when she skipped mandatory tournaments at the height of her career to better manage her own time and her own body.  Even when she was dominating in 2000 and 2001, the tour’s computer did not show her at the top of the sport.  After two consecutive (and frankly embarrassing) years of watching Venus win the biggest titles in the game and still finish no higher than number three in the world, the tour tweaked its points system to more appropriately weigh grand slam results (allowing Venus to finally, if briefly, reach number one in 2002 before Serena surpassed her). 

Just as importantly, Venus always played how she wanted to.  While she certainly improved and evolved her game over the years, she never strayed from her devotion to all-out aggression, which could mean a cavalcade of powerful aces and winners in victory or a landslide of double faults and errors in defeat.  Serena would develop the more nuanced technique, thanks in part to a greater willingness to utilize outside coaching resources.  Venus employed hitting partners and traveling coaches, but she mostly preferred to keep her tennis a family affair and always left the formal coaching titles to mom and dad.  One also gets the sense that she might not have loved the game as much if she had retooled her strokes by adding greater safety margins.  A self-described “big hitter” to this day, she loves playing fast and playing hard.  Watching Serena, I always had the impression that she just wanted to win the point by whatever means necessary.  But watching Venus, I had just as strong an impression that she would rather lose a point by staying aggressive and making an error than by getting back a safe shot that could set up her opponent to score an easy winner.  She has brandished her tennis racquet like a sword, living and dying by it.  Her life, her career, her terms.

Venus may be the second planet from the sun, but Venus Williams teaches us that you are always number one in your own story as long as you never lose sight of what you want that story to be.  Or, as Interplanet Janet might say, we are each the center of our own universe, which may sound selfish but is merely self-defining.  Just as she understands the geometry of a tennis court, Venus understands the geometry of success.  She knows that we are at our best when we are giving our best to the people and the things we love the most.  For Venus, those loves have always included being a big sister and being a big hitter; and she has been unwavering in her commitment to both.       

Serena needed to be the best.  Venus needed to give her best.  While both are admirable approaches to life, the latter is infinitely more replicable; more achievable.  Only one person in any given field can be the best, but everyone can give their best.  Everyone can learn from Venus. 

As she makes this latest appearance in the summer sky, however long it may last, let’s continue to appreciate Venus as the legend she is and will always remain.  And let’s also pause to remember the golden origins of that legend 25 silvery summers ago, when all the stars aligned for the tennis player with the heavenly name to both give and be the best.  A new century was dawning, old Pluto was still a planet, and Venus Williams was running faster, jumping higher, and hitting bigger than any woman in the world.  Make that in the entire galaxy. 

And most impressive of all?  Even in her own house.