Initially, I figured that there were so many weird stories coming out of, or associated with, Australia this year, that the winner in this category would simply be Australian tennis. But then I got to thinking that the great island continent actually is no worse off or less confused than the U.S. when it comes to producing new, young champs.
Two elements of the Sorry Aussies story, though, beg to be treated together because of the striking similarities—and balance—they represent: the pathetic duo of Mark Philippoussis and Jelena Dokic. Think about it: one’s a guy and one’s a girl, but they’ve both played under the green-and-gold colors. Dokic immigrated to Australia from her native Serbia and Montenegro, largely to develop her tennis game. Philippoussis is a first-generation Aussie of Greek extraction and mighty proud of it.
Neither bears even a slight resemblance to your classic cheerful, competitive, no-nonsense, down-to-earth Aussie tennis players—the Rod Lavers, Evonne Goolagongs or Pat Rafters of TennisWorld. That Philippoussis and Dokic are prima donnas of nearly startling magnitude is a reality that also flies in the face of the conventional wisdom about immigrants pulling themselves up by the bootstraps.
In any event, in 2000, Dokic was a Wimbledon semifinalist who hit No. 4 in the world rankings; the following year, Philippoussis cracked the Top 10, ending the year at No. 9. But at the end of last year, both of their careers were in the toilet.
I’ll look at Dokic today, and return to Pou later in the week.
It’s been pretty much all downhill for Dokic since that enchanted Wimbledon run. You can lay some of the blame at the feet of her father, Damir, a drunk and truly bizarre tennis dad. He deserves his pre-eminent place in this Top 10 Horrible Parent List list (Note to Sydney Morning Herald : It’s deeply unfair to put Melanie Molitor in the same company as most of these clowns, because her daughter, Martina Hingis, is as well-adjusted and issue-free as you or me. OK, me).
If you’ve been reading Court Coverage (and yes, you will be quizzed!), you’ll know that the wheels have already fallen off Dokic’s much anticipated comeback - and in the typically confused, complicated, seeming irrational way that seems to characterize everything this poor kid does. Just check out the details on the coaching mess she’s embroiled in, peruse her recent record , and weep.
So where did it all go wrong?
The first time I saw Dokic, during the Wimbledon junior tournament in 1998 (she got to the semis), I remember thinking, “What’s the big deal?” There was little that set her apart from the legions of fair-skinned, blonde, pony-tailed, baseliners produced in the top-secret mold hidden somewhere in Chris Evert’s basement. Dokic had nothing like the beguiling combination of power and variety that distinguished Serena Williams, or even the manic ball-slugging ferocity of a young Monica Seles.
Even when Dokic had her great Wimbledon debut in 1999 (a 16-year old qualifier ranked #129, she beat the top seed - and World No. 1 - Martina Hingis in the first round, two-and-oh!), I wasn’t convinced. But she made steady progress, cracked the Top 10, and stayed there for two years. Dokic slipped out of the Top 10 in 2003, and it began to slide away more and more quickly from there. By the end of 2004, Dokic was out of the Top 100.
Dokic’s demise probably was precipitated by a combination of factors, including the repeated, sordid stunts pulled by Damir Dokic as well as the Dokics’s incessant – and opportunistic- hopping around the globe, looking for a home.
That twisted saga began when the Dokic’s, who are Serbs, sought refuge from the violence in the former Yugoslavia in Australia in 1994. They were welcomed with open arms, and by the end of the decade Dokic was playing Fed Cup for her adopted homeland. But it appears that the Dokic’s couldn’t handle stardom. Carried away by their own sense of importance, they began to feud with the Australian tennis federation (Tennis Australia) – at one point, absurdly accusing TA of “fixing” the draw of the Australian Open to ensure an early Dokic loss.
In 2001, the Dokics made good on a threat to return to Serbia-Montenegro. At the time, Dokic made some staggeringly blasé – and ungrateful - comments suggesting that there was nothing more to deciding which nation to represent (Australian or Serbia-Montenegro) in national competitions than personal whim or opportunism. It was still her planet.
Soon, though, she began fighting with her father. She bolted for Monte Carlo, and set up house there with Brazilian race car driver Enrique Bernoldi. Her father made accusations against her in public, and by 2004 the gory details were routinely being played out in print (here’s a pretty good example from Matt Cronin’s archives). And Dokic herself was talking about moving to – Australia.
At one point, Dokic tried to solve her post-Damir coaching woes by hiring my friend Heinz Gunthardt (he had formerly coached Steffi Graf). He was reluctant to take on the job but another friend whom I don’t know personally – Bernoldi – prevailed upon him. It was not a great experience, although Heinz laughs about it now.
From the stories Heinz told me, Dokic seems a remarkably needy, insecure girl. You’ve heard of high maintenance? Dokic turned out to be helicopter-grade maintenance – that’s 10 hours of maintenance for every hour of flight. Perhaps she’s changed; the current rash of stories out of Australia suggests she has not.
Dokic kindled some hopes late last year when she announced that she would play her first tournament in Australia since Damir packed the family up and left in a huff about four years ago. AAfter all, she’s been estranged from Damir for about two years now. Maybe she could make a fresh start. Damir himself confessed that it was a good idea, and recently said as much - although so much of what else he said is destructive and spiteful.
BTW: I can’t confirm the identity of the Croatian mystery boy, although I suppose it could be her former coach, Borna Bikic, of whom Dokic has said: “Bikic is a terrorist and a perfectionist. I am his soldier and he is my general. He controls all my life except my finances."
But the story took a turn for the worst a few days ago. In another proof that life is unfair, Damir proved prescient. Dokic’s comeback is turning into an unmitigated disaster, with former friends scorning her - and a first-round loss in Auckland in the first official match she’s played since last August.
I’ve seen more tragic stories unfold in tennis, but nothing quite as pathetic as this ongoing saga.