So the U.S. goes to Moscow with only one blue-chip singles player, Venus Williams (Lindsay Davenport pulled out at the 11th hour because of the back injury she sustained during the Wimbledon final against the very same Williams). As a result, the U.S. goes down (full Fed Cup wrap here). Oh, sure, it might have been different with Lindsay on board. Then again, maybe not—just look at how the resurgent Anastasia Myskina took it to Venus in the first rubber of the tie. But there was a time, not long ago, when the U.S. could have sent the B team anywhere in the world and been virtually assured of a win.
Lindsay’s official statement on her withdrawal was odd—and telling, even though it’s easy to see why she may not have been thrilled by the idea of going to Moscow with Venus just a few days after the latter inflicted one of the most crushing of losses on Davenport in that epic Wimbledon final. Sure, camaraderie is all well and good, but that one had to hurt, big time. It was, at best, an awkward and ill-timed sojourn to Russia.
Still, the most interesting thing Lindsay could bring herself to say was: “. . . I have been advised by my doctors to tend to the injury so that I can prepare for the upcoming U.S. Open Series summer events in North America and the U.S. Open.”
What a slap in the face to Fed Cup. This further institutionalizes the notion that Fed Cup is a competitive afterthought—something the players will support if and when it really dovetails with their other, more pressing plans. OK, we all know that the U.S. Open, if not each U.S. Open Series tournament, is a greater prize than a Fed Cup win. But it doesn’t help anyone to put it so bluntly and it helps ensure that Fed Cup will never attain the status of Davis Cup.
I’m surprised that nobody read or edited her official statement and asked her to be a little more diplomatic. What would have been wrong with simply saying, “My doctors told me not to play for at least so-and-so number of days because my Wimbledon injury”?