The doubles mastery, and radical fun, of Hsieh Su-Wei

For me most important is to having some fun, sometime you can laugh, even you losing 0-5 on the court, is not big deal. Hsieh Su-Wei, Australian Open champion in both women’s doubles and mixed doubles, on her priorities in choosing a teammate. Hsieh has won three of the last four women’s doubles majors, all with different partners.

When retired doubles star Peter Fleming was asked who, in his estimation, was the best ATP doubles team of his era, he famously answered: “John McEnroe and anyone.” That McEnroe was Fleming’s long time partner had less to do with the reply than the fact that McEnroe led them to seven Grand Slam titles in the early 1980s.

Much the same can now be said of Hsieh Su-Wei, although genius for doubles is perhaps the only thing the wispy 38-year-old from Taiwan has in common with the angry young man that was McEnroe in his prime. That Hsieh can enjoy great success while placing such an inordinately heavy emphasis on enjoying herself, while so many of her peers treat the game as a life-or-death enterprise, is as radical as her game.

And that’s very radical.

“It's incredible, because I was not expecting anything, and I just try to come back to enjoy,” Hsieh said in a press conference following the women’s doubles final in Melbourne. The remark was a reference to her 20-month hiatus, which ended in May 2023. Since then, Hsieh has been an equal partner in three womens’ doubles wins at the majors, along with her first major in mixed doubles.

“So for the first two Grand Slam (of my comeback), Roland Garros or Wimbledon (in 2023), I was not even nervous on the court in the finals. So I know this is gonna get into the head of the girls, because I was a little bit smiling on the court. I don't know. Maybe the opponent won't be happy.”

The remark had reporters laughing, as does so much of Hsieh’s quirky humor, especially as it is amplified by her halting diction. But the blithe 5'7" dynamo’s sunny disposition co-exists with a fearlessness when it comes to bumping up against the best players in the world. That includes the string of men whom Hsieh and Poland’s Jan Zielinski faced enroute to their mixed title, as well as Grand Slam singles champion and notable ball-basher Jelena Ostapenko, who partnered with Lyudmyla Kichenok in the final of the womens’ event. Hsieh and Elise Mertens won that final, 6-1, 7-5.

“For me is no problem, because even in the mixed doubles I'm not really the person afraid of a guy or even a woman,” Hsieh said, with signature aplomb. “So is not a big deal for me. Most important thing is, I need to control my partner on the court, to go somewhere I want her to move to make me feel comfortable.”

That may sound brazen, but like the ease Hsieh feels on a tennis court it’s a sign of her mastery. She is a capable team leader with a natural, instinctive sense of doubles. She has hands that would be useful for running a shell-game con, and such excellent feel and racquet control that the most effective strategy for her team is to create opportunities for Hsieh to dazzle with her stickwork at or near the net.

That’s where any resemblance to McEnroe ends, because the ball Hsieh hits wouldn’t rupture a wet Kleenex. Unlike McEnroe, Hsieh is a right-hander. While his serve was a vicious lefty hook, hers approaches the 100 m.p.h. mark only on rare occasions. She’s like the driver weaving around, doing 45 in the far left lane on the Interstate: she annoys the hell out of everyone else on the road, but almost always arrives at her destination without flipping over—or, in her case, out.

Hsieh doesn’t hit the ball as much as massage it, with both fists on the handle. Given her slender build, an onlooker may be left with the impression that Hsieh lacks the strength to hold and swing the stick with one hand. But that double-fisted approach nicely disguises her intentions. And, since she doesn’t seek Sabalenka-esque racquet-head speed, the grip gives her a stable platform—especially for the quick, in-close work.

Apparently, the cheerful demeanor that also sets Hsieh apart from the crowd didn’t have much to do with her appeal as a partner, as she learned during her hiatus. When she went looking for partners, many of the other women were leery. After all, she was in her mid-30s. Nothing funny about that. There was no guarantee that the magical quality of her game—for that’s exactly what it is—would still be intact.

“So it was not going really well at the beginning when come back,” she said in Melbourne. “Many people think I [can] come back great, winning all the tournaments. But no, no, all the girl was refusing me.”

Undeterred, Hsieh partnered with China’s little known Wang Xinyu to win at Roland Garros. At Wimbledon, she rejoined with another doubles stalwart, Barbora Strycova, who was on her last go round. They won the tournament. Suddenly, it was Hsieh allowing calls from erstwhile partners to go to voicemail.

I know this is gonna get into the head of the girls, because I was a little bit smiling on the court. I don't know. Maybe the opponent won't be happy. Hsieh Su-Wei

Early this year, Hsieh rekindled her partnership with the woman with whom she’d won the Wimbledon doubles in 2021, Mertens. They lost none of their chemistry—nor their like-mindedness.

“It’s amazing,” said Mertensm, who moved up to No. 1 in doubles, with Hsieh moving into her vacate No. 2 slot. “We have so much fun, honestly. Off court, on court. I mean, it's very fun to play with Su-Wei. I don't know what she's doing sometimes. . .”

Here the reporters interrupted her with laughter.

“But you know, on the big stages, when we play quarterfinals, semifinals, finals, we don't throw points away.”

Well, they haven’t yet. But as Hsieh said in answer to a related question: “I don't know what I'm gonna do any match or any time, so be ready.”