Billie Jean King: A look at her achievements inside the lines

WATCH: Billie Jean King's impact on women's sports—presented by Gainbridge. Support Billie Jean King's legacy at womenssportsfoundation.org

Outside the lines is where the dialogue around Billie Jean King usually plays out. And why not? After all, the case can be made that no single athlete has accomplished more beyond the playing field. From politicians to schoolchildren, athletes to activists, in feature films and documentaries, in books and articles, podcasts and proclamations, the celebration of King’s legacy is justifiably extensive.

But what about King inside the lines? King has long said that only if she became No. 1 would she have a platform large enough to transform tennis and perhaps even the world. And a champion she was. King earned 39 Grand Slam titles—12 in singles, 16 in women’s doubles, 11 in mixed. She is one of only ten women to have won all four singles majors. And her whopping 20 combined Wimbledon titles ties her with Martina Navratilova for the most all-time at the All England Club.

Always Thinking About the Tennis

“The main thing Billie Jean had was a passion,” said her ex-husband, Larry King. “She was always thinking about how she was going to play and what she was going to do.” As one repeated example, Larry recalled the three occasions Billie Jean had knee surgery and how each recovery cycle kept her away from competition. You’d have thought a layoff would erode Billie Jean’s skills.

Guess again. Through that period, King engaged in powerful visualization and meditation techniques. Her engagement with those concepts began in the 1960s, a time when such practices were barely known. “And then she’d be even better,” said Larry. “It was amazing.”

Emerging on the global tennis scene in the early ‘60s, King captured attention with her self-directed motivational comments, intermittent thigh slaps, and enough energy to fuel a rocket ship. “The force of King’s outgoing personality affected everyone around her,” wrote veteran tennis journalist Rex Bellamy in the book, Love Thirty. “She thrived on challenge, on stress. Her creed was simple: Tennis had to be fun, it was more fun if it was hotly competitive, and nothing was more fun than winning.”

So immersed was King in the battle that there were times when opponents felt it best to avoid eye contact with her between points, lest they start to feel subordinate to that laser-like will.

“Her intensity was unbelievable,” said Tracy Austin. “You could feel it coming across the net.”

Billie Jean’s Southern California: Year-Round Sunshine & Public Courts

The origin story goes that from the day she first picked up a racquet at age 11, Billie Jean Moffitt knew her purpose in life was to excel at tennis. The great news was that Billie Jean’s education took place in the most tennis-rich part of the world, sun-drenched Southern California. In her hometown of Long Beach, King’s first teacher was Clyde Walker, a man quite expert on the fundamentals. Later, in her teens, she spent several months under the tutelage of former world number one Alice Marble, who showed Billie Jean how to best navigate the transition area of the court. Time with Marble also provided a first-hand look at the heart, mind and comportment of a champion.

Other Southern California-based players helped mentor King, including Grand Slam winners Maureen Connolly, Louise Brough and Darlene Hard. She also had the chance to study and compete at what was then America’s second-most important tournament, the Pacific Southwest Championships. Held at the Los Angeles Tennis Club, the “Southwest,” as it was known, was where King first closely observed such stylistic role models as Tony Trabert, Althea Gibson, Rod Laver, and many others.

“The history of the game was right in front of me,” King once told me. “I saw those great players and then read about even more. I could not get enough.”

Forward Movement Meant Everything

Such eagerness to charge forward with her chosen craft made King a natural net-rusher, a perfect fit for Southern California’s fast hard courts and the fact that three of tennis’ four majors were then splayed on slick grass. Along with Navratilova, King is the greatest volleyer in the history of women’s tennis.

“She saw the court, she saw the ball, and she understood tendencies,” said her longstanding mixed doubles partner, Owen Davidson. “Along with that, her footwork and technique were fantastic.” The King backhand volley was particularly dazzling, a shot she could execute no matter how compromised. Lobs existed to be terminated. “Her overheads were so consistent,” wrote Bellamy, “that one could spend months waiting for her to miss one.”

The launching pad for King’s volleys was her mix of exceptional quickness and unsurpassed court sense. “The ball tells me what to do,” goes one of her trademark sayings. But that knowledge was based on King’s relentless curiosity and study, from each opponent’s patterns to the score, the surface, and how such shot selection choices would in turn put Billie Jean in prime position to either sustain the rally or deploy her own strengths.

A pair of examples came in the last two rounds of King’s 1971 US Open title run. In the semis, playing Chrissie Evert for the first time at a major, King mixed up speeds and spins like a veteran baseball pitcher. She frequently sliced her groundstrokes and aimed much of her attack to Evert’s slightly weaker forehand. After winning that match 6-3, 6-2, King played a very familiar opponent, Rosie Casals, in the finals. Like King, Casals was a highly skilled net-rusher. But unlike King, she did not have a particularly effective backhand passing shot, hence making it possible for King to repeatedly direct her approach shots and volleys to that weaker side. King on that day earned a 6-4, 7-6 victory.

Having played baseball as a child, King had a natural, smooth throwing motion that helped her build an effective serve she could slice or kick with tremendous proficiency. “She could really direct it to the corners,” said Julie Heldman. “It propelled her forward.” Said Evert, “It was heavy, with lots of spin. It moved really well.” Most of all, King viewed her serve as a way to set up her next shot, quite often a sharply directed volley.

As you might expect in an era of wood racquets, one-handed backhands and fast courts, groundstrokes were deployed quite differently. “Her forehand and backhand were hit in a way that made it natural and easy for her to constantly get to net,” said Austin. King’s backhand was elegant and versatile, be it sliced or driven. While the former was superb at baseline exchanges and generating knife-like approach shots or the occasional drop shot, the latter was arguably even more of a differentiator, as it allowed King to effectively dip the ball past an incoming net-rusher. Though the forehand was not as formidable, King’s superb self-knowledge helped her understand exactly how to manage it properly.

All this skill and acuity made King a superb disruptor. In baseline rallies, she often refused to let her opponent find a groove. “She would mix it up all the time,” said Navratilova. “She didn’t want you to get into any kind of rhythm. And then she would go on the attack.”

Tennis’ Eternal Student

You’d be hard-pressed to meet a tennis player who studied the game with as much devotion as King. Consider ages 11 through 20 the years she earned her undergraduate degree. Much of that took place in her native Southern California. There was also a vital relationship formed with Frank Brennan, a New Jersey instructor Billie Jean met in her teens. For several summers, the Brennan home was her East Coast base, with Frank as a frequent coach. “My father was a serve-and-volley aficionado, so with Billie Jean he found a kindred spirit,” said Brennan’s son, Frank, Jr., who later became the women’s coach at Stanford. “Billie Jean always credited my father with being the first person to tell her she could be No. 1 in the world.”

There also came the chance to study abroad. In fall 1964, shortly before she turned 21, an Australian businessman named Bob Mitchell offered to pay her expenses for several months of practice Down Under. Usually in the autumn, Billie Jean minimized tennis and focused more on her schoolwork at Cal State Los Angeles. But this opportunity was too delicious to pass up.

Once in Australia, she commenced work with a legendary coach, Mervyn Rose, who finetuned her service motion, forehand, and also provided chances to practice for hours with everyone from her primary rival, Margaret Court, to Laver, Davidson, Roy Emerson, and many other Aussies who during that time were known as the best and fittest players in the game.

This was arguably the final, dissertation-like step in King becoming No. 1. In the summer of 1966, King won her first of six Wimbledon singles titles and began a three-year run ranked number one in the world. Said Court, “Billie Jean is the greatest competitor I’ve ever known.” As King herself once explained, “The better players—we just choke ten percent less.”

By 1972, having won all three other majors, King hungered to at last win Roland Garros. “California kids were the laughingstock on clay,” King told me about her first experiences on clay as a teenager. “We’d slide two or three feet. It was hilarious . . . I was pathetic at first.”

But by 1970, King won her first significant clay-court title, the Italian Open. Two years later, she pointed herself towards Roland Garros, heading to Florida for practice sessions with Evert on the clay. The hard work paid off, King that June beating defending champion Evonne Goolagong in the final.

The study. The skills. King savored both and refined them, again and again, through hours of pointed practice, sheer love of match play, and one overlooked but enduring asset: Everywhere she goes, King embraces the spirit of inquiry. In conversation, she will span the globe, from tales of interactions with world leaders to queries about how an iconic instructor taught the forehand. While King will turn 80 on November 22, the curious 11-year-old will be right there with her.