Richard, Venus, and her younger sister Serena had been known in tennis circles for a decade, but the sport still didn’t seem quite prepared for their prime-time debut in New York. It had been 25 years since an African-American—Arthur Ashe in 1972—had reached a US Open final, and Venus’s first Open coincided with the opening of the stadium that bears Ashe’s name. Despite those warm symbolic vibes, though, the Williamses were something distinctly new for tennis. Venus wore beads in her hair, bashed her serve harder than any woman ever had, shrieked with virtually every shot, and showed little interest in making friends with her fellow players.
“I’m tall, I’m black, everything’s different about me,” Venus said.
If anything, her father’s unfiltered sensibility was an even big shock to the tennis system, and Venus spent much of her time during press conferences answering questions about his comments.
“I think this is definitely ruining the mood [surrounding Ashe Stadium’s opening], these questions about racism,” she said.
For six rounds, though, nothing could stop Venus on the court. It’s hard to remember now, but in those days the jury was still out on whether she was hope or hype. Her father had touted Venus as a future No. 1 for years, yet to that point she had won just one match at a major. But after dropping her first set at Flushing to Larisa Neiland, Venus found her footing. For many, the future of U.S. tennis dawned during her third-round night match against Anke Huber. The German was seeded eighth, but by the time Venus had beaten her 6-3, 6-4, it was clear she was a cut above her athletically.
A few days later, in her classic semifinal with Spirlea, Venus showed that she wasn’t just an athlete; she was a world-class competitor who would never be satisfied with second-best. She won all the important rallies that day, and saved two match points on her way to taking the deciding tiebreaker, 9-7.
When Spirlea’s final backhand floated wide, Venus gave us a preview of celebrations to come: She bounced, pogo-style, to the net, screaming joyfully all the way. “Party Crasher,” Sports Illustrated called her on its cover the following week. Twenty years later, Venus is still the toast of U.S. tennis, and African-Americans—from Serena to Sloane Stephens—are the life of its party.