Jo's Journey

“Sorry, guys,” Johanna Konta said to reporters after her three-hour, 4-6, 6-4, 8-6 win over Ekaterina Makarova in the fourth round of the Australian Open on Monday. “I’m like a broken record.”

How many athletes have you heard apologize for repeating—over and over, with a glazed look in their eyes—the same post-game cliché?  In the U.S., at least, it’s assumed that every player will constantly inform the world that he or she “took it one day at a time” and “just tried to stay focused.”

Maybe it’s an English thing. Over the years, women tennis players from the U.K. haven’t had to give many post-win interviews Down Under. With her marathon victory over Makarova, the 24-year-old Konta, who moved to England from Australia 11 years ago, became the first British woman to reach the Aussie Open quarterfinals in 32 years.

So what did Konta, who shot up 103 spots in the rankings in 2015, feel like she had to apologize to us for? What note does this "broken record" keep repeating? Something, it seems, about "the journey" and "the process." To cite a few recent examples from her press conferences:

“This journey started when I was about 8 years old.”

“My journey has been the way it has been for a reason.”

“Everyone has their own journey, their own career. This is mine.”

“I’m a big believer in the process, I’m a big believer in progression. It didn’t happen before because it wasn’t meant to.”

“So yeah, no, it’s an ongoing process.”

Konta is obviously having, as comedian Jon Stewart used to say, a moment of Zen.

Her win over Makarova was a journey in itself. By the third set, only a sparse crowd remained in Margaret Court Arena to watch what had become a compellingly taut contest. Neither player could open a lead or get the better of the rallies for long. Konta and Makarova both hug the baseline, but neither has the blazing power to end points from anywhere on the court. The result was a series of often lengthy and entertainingly varied points.

Despite her easygoing rhetoric, Konta doesn’t have a free-flowing game; even the way she bounces and catches the ball before going into her service motion—she looks like she has it on a yo-yo—is done with meditative precision. On both of her ground strokes, she uses an abbreviated backswing and hurriedly pulls over the ball.

Sometimes, though, when it comes to style and athleticism in tennis, less can be more. Compare Konta to Madison Keys. The American does have the power to end points with one swing; the problem is, she knows it, so she tries to do it too often. The energetic Konta typically seems to be tying one shot to the next, building her way toward a higher-percentage putaway. And while her talk about keeping things in perspective can sound like just that—talk—in the waning moments on Monday Konta stayed more upbeat and even-keel than Makarova, and it made a difference.

“I really enjoyed the match for what it was,” Konta said. “It was a very high-level match against a very, very good player. I took it as such. It’s all about dealing with the given situation, whatever that may be, and however that may arise during a match.”

As serene as the 47th-ranked Konta sounds at the moment, it’s hard to imagine that, as recently as 2014, she believed her journey would take her so far, so soon. Last season, after reaching the ripe old tennis age of 23, she was cut loose by the U.K.’s Lawn Tennis Association, which ended its financial support. If the move was meant as tough love, it worked. Konta moved to Spain to train with Estaban Carrill and Jose-Manuel Garcia. Just as important, the often-anxious player began working with Juan Coto, another Spaniard, on her mental game.

“The team I have now,” Konta said on Monday, “have done a great job with me in simplifying things, and also putting things into practical terms which I’m able to utilize when I’m out on court.”

While her team has taught her to “stay in the moment” and “try to control only what she can control,” Konta will admit that she hasn’t always been quite so calm. Last fall, when she was asked what people might see if “we were to go and pull junior tapes” of her matches, Konta suddenly had quite a few thoughts to share.

“Oh no,” she interjected before the reporter could finish the question. “No. Oh, back in juniors, no. Have a conversation with my parents. No. no. Even at home, have a conversation with my parents. No, no ... I am quite a tightly-wound person. I talk a lot. I cry. I laugh. I’m quite emotional. So ... no.”

OK, so this Zen thing is new for her. And so, it seems, is Konta’s game. The same woman who lost in the first round of Australian Open qualifying in 2015 is now in the quarterfinals, and can stand toe to toe from the baseline with anyone; last year she recorded wins over Garbiñe Muguruza and Simona Halep. Konta’s mid-career turnaround should be inspiring to her fellow players, and her presence a welcome one for fans. She’s articulate and open, and she has, as she says, lived a little. Not everything has been about hitting her next backhand harder than the last.

“I have a life outside of tennis, believe it or not,” Konta says.

Last week in Melbourne, Konta's journey took her to a place she never thought she would go: A win over one of her idols, Venus Williams. In Wuhan last fall, she led Venus, 5-3, in the third set before losing four straight games and the match. This time Konta led by a set and 5-0 before losing two straight games. Was she going to trip at the finish line again? Was she going to lose her newfound cool? Not this time. She held her nerve, and her serve.

It was all, Konta might say, part of the process. Her moment of Zen continues.