I first watched Anna Chakvetadze play in 2007, when she came to Stowe, Vermont, to represent Russia in Fed Cup. She's been through a lot since then, both professionally and personally. Once in the Top 5, she fell outside the Top 100 this summer and is still having difficulty winning tour-level matches. Of greater discomfort was the news that, in December 2007, robbers broke into her home, tied her up, and got away with money and jewelry. It's an event that Chakvetadze has understandably had trouble getting past.
That may all have something to with her emotional state on court—or maybe she's just a very emotional girl. Every time I watch Chakvetadze, she appears to be on the verge of a meltdown. She proved me right today in the Kremlin Cup quarters, but not before her adversary, fellow Russian Vera Dushevina, had a sizable one of her own.
After winning the first set 6-3, Dushevina continued to move Chakvetadze around the court with success and opened up a 3-0, double-break lead. Chakvetadze has a deliberate backswing that, when it connects, can produce winners from anywhere on the court. But get her on the run and she has much less time to set it up.
Then, as if someone flipped a switch, Dushevina caved. She surrendered both breaks in the next five games, stunning the Moscow crowd and emboldening Chakvetadze, who fist-pumped after each winner. She was reacting quicker, enjoying the rallies and building the points, stroke by stroke. Dushevina, still punch-drunk, was forced to hold serve just to reach a tiebreaker, which she did, somewhat surprisingly.
But that was just the first of many meltdowns. As Chakvetadze lost the first point of the tiebreaker, she dropped her racquet, stepped on it, and it looked as if the waterworks were coming. They didn't, but as she fell behind 0-3, I figured it was only a matter of time. Until she won the next six points. It was only a tease, though. Chakvetadze pressed on the pressure points, and Dushevina prevailed, 9-7. As Chakvetadze hurried to the locker room, her head was down and her hand covered it.
It was only a matter of time.
—Ed McGrogan