The Hingis game was a connoisseur’s delight, an advanced form of tennis chess, propelled by a strategic mind honed through hour after hour of practice matches versus all kinds of playing styles. “I wasn’t that big,” Hingis told me once, “so I had to figure things out, whether I was playing an adult with funny strokes, or another junior. It was like a problem, something to solve.”
Able to rapidly detect weaknesses, spot the viable nooks and crannies of the court, and then deploy her own arsenal, Hingis was a subtle yet forceful disruptor, helping one opponent after another become an accomplice in her own demise. It’s one thing to be swiftly overpowered, the way Korda had beaten Rios. It’s arguably even more painful to be unraveled, strand by strand. Such was the genius of Hingis.
A major factor in the Hingis skill set was her devotion to doubles – and the excellent way she played it. At 15, paired with Helena Sukova, she won the ’96 Wimbledon doubles title. Remarkably, more than 20 years later, Hingis took both the women’s and mixed titles at the ’17 US Open.
Seeded first at the ’98 Australian Open, Hingis had a tough third round match versus Anna Kournikova, a 6-4, 4-6, 6-4 battle that’s a reminder of how well Kournikova could play singles. Not until the semis did Hingis lose another set. That came versus hard-hitting Anke Huber, Hingis the victor by the rare score of 6-1, 2-6, 6-1.
The second seed in Melbourne that year was Lindsay Davenport. But after getting past Venus Wiliams 1-6, 7-5, 6-3 in the quarterfinals, Davenport was upset in the semis by the eighth seed, ’94 Wimbledon champion Conchita Martinez. Armed with her own mix of severe topspin and biting slice, Martinez had beaten Hingis the first two times they’d played, those wins coming on clay in the finals of Hamburg ’95 and Rome the next year. But by ’97, Hingis had begun to solve Martinez, beating her at hardcourt tournaments in San Diego and Stanford.
Martinez started well, breaking Hingis’ serve in the opening game. But then she dropped her own delivery at love and never subsequently gained much traction. Though the rallies were often arduous during this 86-minute match, court positioning revealed much. While Martinez required room for her long swings and was often stationed several feet behind the baseline, Hingis’ much more compact backswings made it possible to dictate the tempo from just on the baseline or inside it.
On championship point, a Martinez down-the-line backhand went wide. Hingis had won, 6-3, 6-3, a victory that made her the youngest player in the Open era to successfully defend a Grand Slam singles title. ''Let me tell you one thing,” said Hingis, “to defend the title is much harder than to come in and win it the first time; there's so much pressure.”
Hingis also won the women’s doubles, all part of a glorious run that would see her take the singles and doubles titles in ’97, ’98, and ’99.
Bencic met Hingis when she was coached by Hingis’ mother, Melanie Molitor. Martina has also spent much time with Bencic. When it comes to playing style, Bencic is not as versatile, opportunistic, or fast as Hingis. But, as Hingis has admitted, she’s able to hit the ball harder. Like Hingis, Bencic’s technique is exceptionally concise, paired with efficient footwork and movement patterns that frequently take time away from opponents – and, like Hingis, in a nuanced way. At first, this rushed quality is hardly detectable. Over time, though, Bencic applies her own brand of cumulative pressure.
Sebastian Korda and Belinda Bencic have each started ’23 well. In Adelaide, Korda reached the finals, holding a championship point on Novak Djokovic before losing, 6-4 in the third. Also in Adelaide, Bencic won her seventh career singles title, along the way beating fourth-ranked Caroline Garcia in three sets and, in the finals, world No. 8 Daria Kasatkina, 6-0, 6-2. So while the past offers one set of useful memories, these two also figure to draw even more on what’s happened most recently.
