by Pete Bodo
Howdy, everyone. Tom Perrotta writes from Melbourne to say that he's be putting up another Ask Tom-type thread later today or tomorrow, inviting you to submit questions that he will try to answer for you from Melbourne. This time, I think it's going to be called, *Questions, Please*. Details will appear in his post.
With a very early meeting scheduled for this morning, I didn't make it too deeply into last night's broadcast schedule, thus I missed Venus Williams's loss to Carla Suarez Navarro. I did, however, catch a good bit of baby Serena's match with Gisela Dulko. No fear of falling asleep during that tussle, not with the voice of Martina Navratilova emanating from the box!
Those of you who have been fanatically trailing the women may feel differently about this, but from what I've seen, the Sun Goddess has cast a spell over the women's draw. I have this gnawing feeling that the challenging heat conditions at the very start of the event have had a dampening influence on the degree of dedication and the quality of play. I wonder if some of the women aren't backing off a little, emotionally, as they tell themselves: I knew it was going to be tough, but sheesh! I didn't sign on for this degree of hardship duty.
In fact, while I was otherwise occupied with the Tennis Channel on the TV, I caught bits and pieces of an interview in which Serena was going on at some length about the heat when the host interrupted to tell her that it actually wasn't very hot anymore. It seemed a funny moment - did anyone catch it? In any event, I've seen some pretty sleepy, dispirited tennis so far on the WTA side of the divide. I'm reminded of that scene in which a commanding officer barks out a call for a volunteer, and everyone but one unsuspecting recruit immediately takes a step. . . back. Maybe that's how this year's women's title will be decided.
The designated volunteer, in this case, just might be Elena Dementieva. Perhaps her day as a Grand Slam heroine really has finally arrived. She's certainly built up a good head of steam these past few weeks, and she's traveling with - easily - as much momentum as Dinara Safina, and a deeper reservoir of experience. Somehow, I can see it: Elena Dementieva winning her first (and maybe only) major in Australia, while all the other women are cooling their jets (and feet) with a pretty good built-in excuse for not putting up stiffer resistance. In any event, this window of opportunity is beginning to look more and more like an enormous set of French doors.
I must say that nothing that happens with the Williams sisters surprises me anymore, and that's a non-judgmental appraisal. More important, I'm not sure either of them gets overly stressed by an unexpected loss or poor performance. Gradually, over the years, they've figured out a way to rise above the cruel letters, the Ws and Ls, by which most players live. Oh, they say all the "right" things when interrogated by the media, but these girls must have the oldest souls in all of tennis. Their status transcends any indignity the draw might inflict on them; they're icons, waiting like everyone else for the paint to dry on their likenesses.
You'd have to be a fool to suggest that they no longer care - nobody with a choice in the matter gets on that plane to Australia without having some designs on making a statement there. But the Williams sisters have conditioned everyone (including themselves) to accept them as they are - mercurial, brilliant, unreliable, fierce, passive, brassy, coy and, more than anything, above it all. This condition isn't exactly something they chose, although the decisions they've made played a large role in establishing it. The only thing crazier than betting on them is betting against them. In a bizarre way, this has only added to the Williams mystique. Their improbability quotient has always been through the roof - why should it be different now?
