Waiting for Venus

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!Venus3by Bobby Chintapalli, Contributing Writer**

I stopped by Borders' downtown Chicago store the other day to check out the book signing Venus Williams held for her new book, Come To Win. In it, an “an A-list group of visionaries” tell Venus (and her co-author, Kelly E. Carter) how their competitive sports experience helps them excel in work and life.  Venus talked to an eclectic, impressive group of achievers, ranging from former President Bill Clinton to fashionista Vera Wang. Venus says she was looking for inspiration for her career off the court, when her playing days are over.

Don't panic, though. As she writes in the preface: “Let’s be clear: I’m not retiring anytime soon. At thirty, I still have game and can think of nothing more gratifying than traveling the world to play tennis.”

Venus explains what she learned from those she interviewed. I learned a few things myself, waiting for Venus to appear.

How to care for an autographed book

The animated, middle-aged woman next to me in line at the signing clutched her  copy of Come to Win. She explained what you don’t do with a signed book - things her husband didn’t know. I guess that accounted for the exasperation in her voice.

“You cannot lend out a book that has an autograph in it,” she declared, explaining that it once  took an entire week for her to retrieve an autographed book her husband had lent out. Her husband ultimately read that book, and committed faux pas no. 2.

"You cannot write in a book that has an autograph in it," my neighbor explained, characterizing her husband's violation of that rule as an  “idiot move.” The women gathered near us all wagged their heads in sympathetic agreement. For the record I’d neither lend out nor write in my favorite signed book, Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children.

Well, now the husband knows. . .

How to get a book autographed

It was 20 minutes past the scheduled start time of the signing session, and Venus was nowhere to be seen, except on the cover of several hundred books piled nearby. So her fans waited, chatted, wondered. Was Venus in yet? Could you take pictures with her? Was Serena still dating that rapper? Did they break up because she was bossy?

The chatter grew louder. A thin guy who works at Borders walked through the store, holding the book aloft for all to see, opened to a page that said only Come to Win. He had a big voice for a skinny guy, and it boomed out: “Did everyone get the memo? She’ll be signing this page.”

Thin Borders guy walked by again, bellowing: “I apologize, Everyone – I told you the wrong page."

Who knew that getting a book signed could get so complicated?

How to text all the important questions

About 35 minutes late, Venus entered wearing a casual top, tight jeans and braids. She was followed by a half dozen people and her racket bag. (Two hours later she would play tennis with kids at park district courts nearby.) Fans greeted her with a few squeals and scattered applause. Venus responded with an amiable smile that made it seem more like she was a statuesque friend than Venus Wimbledon.

A friend who had planned to accompany me to the signing got hung up in a meeting, so I was holding her book as well. I immediately texted her that Venus had arrived.

She texted right back: “Oh! How exciting! How does she look? Why r ‘celebrities’ always late?”

How to think like a pro

As we waited (it would take some 90 minutes), I got to know a bit about another neighbor in the line. We'll call her Linda. She was an affable  23-year-old former college player, who could think of one thing better than getting a signed copy of Venus's book - facing her across the net. Linda is on a pro track, and she has the telltale trademark: forearms of noticeably different girth. Linda competes at the ITF-tournament level, playing as many as three matches a day. Her goal for now is to get a ranking, but it’s on hold for a few weeks due to injury. She wasn’t sure if it was caused by all the matches, or all the driving it took to get to matches.

The enforced absence gave Linda a chance to make the signing. She said, half-jokingly, “It’s a good book to read if you’re going to interview for a job and you need to say something nice.”

Linda is a fan of Venus but others too – both of the Williams sisters for their athleticism, Justine Henin for her variety and Elena Dementieva for her work ethic. As we made our way past the unmoving paper faces of Adolf Hitler, Nigella Lawson and Bob Greene on our way to Venus, we talked about the game, the players… and the moonballs.

“You haven’t seen moonballs until you’ve seen college tennis,” she commented, adding that she most enjoyed playing the really good players, even if they were ranked much higher. Win or lose, she said, she always learned something.

“Don’t you get scared?” I asked.

“You can’t worry about losing,” she said. “You can’t think like that.”

That's a subject Venus touches on in her book, writing:  “[Since] so many of this book’s contributors… talk about the value of losing, I guess I’ll have to give some more thought to the idea that losses can be beneficial. It certainly seems to be the case in business."

Our conversation was interrupted: "Is this your book?"

I started. It was Venus, talking to me. She signed, and agreed to have her picture taken with Linda. As I fumbled with the camera, they exchanged pleasantries.

"I play tennis," Linda said.

"What division," Venus asked, "the 16s?"

Linda laughed: "No, no. I already graduated from college."

I wondered what Venus thought about that. Did she think Linda was chasing an impossible dream? Where was Venus at 16, Center Court on Arthur Ashe? Did she empathize with this aspiring pro? But all she said was, "But you look so . . .young."

"I'm not that young, but hopefully, I'll get to play you - soon."

It was a gutsy suggestion, for sure. But Venus didn't seem to take it as impertinent. How could she, when the title of the book she wrote is Come to Win. . .

Even if you come late.