The Professionals

Howdy, everyone. Now that the smoke and din of the US Open have cleared, I want to say a few words about the player about whom I wrote next to nothing during the last Grand Slam of the year - Justine Henin. The odd thing is that I don't feel I can write about Justine without also writing about Roger Federer, which is a mixed blessing. Mixed, because I don't want to take away any of her luster, while at the same time contemplating The Sister of No Mercy and The Mighty Fed together is almost critical to understanding Justine's real worth.

Henin and Federer today represent a high-water mark of tennis in the Open era. Just yesterday, I wrote a column for Tennis, the mothership, on the traditional great divide in tennis: the difference between "skill-based" and "will-based" champions. You can also describe this as the divide between "artistic" players with "beautiful" games and the "pragmatic" (think Rafael Nadal) players whose games are not especially creative or smooth,but who win because they have great competitive spirit, courage, and drive.

This dichotomy ultimately taps into a serial debate here over why we love tennis - because of its appeal as a demonstration of skill and creativity, or a gritty physical and psychological battle in which only one thing really matters: winning.  To some, tennis is a demonstration and performance, like modern dance, somewhat hampered by the fact that it's competitive, and that winning counts. To others, it's all about the winning or losing, and success - or lack thereof - is all that really matters. In a way, it's a divide between romantics and realists, or, if you prefer, idealists and pragmatists.

The great thing about Henin and Federer is that each of them is a beautiful player and a superior competitor, so the divide is effectively bridged. Have there ever been a pair of No. 1 players who so fully represent the abundantly gifted as well as the fully-ripened competitor? The combination of Martina Navratilova and John McEnroe in '83 and '84 is the last pair I can think of, yet both of them were controversial, polarizing figures in ways that slightly tarnished the glow of their ascendancy. Pete Sampras and Steffi Graf, in the mid-90s, also come to mind. But they fall short because nobody ever accused Graf of having a beautiful game.

But besides representing the ultimate marriage between skill and will, the striking thing about TMF and TSNM is that they are consumate professionals. I know: yawwwn . .  .  It's a thorny, over-used, amorphous word, "professional." It's a gray word, with a faint patina of commerce and the unpleasant odor of work (as opposed to orgiastic, whoo-ee play!). The word is too often used to describe a somewhat mechanical, dull kind of duty-doing that is an enemy of spontaneity, passion and joy. In the dictionary, "skill" and "expertise" come up only in the third or fourth definitions of "professional", while the definition of a pro as someone who performs a specific task for money appears higher.

Nevertheless. . .

Alright, I know that some of you are thinking of Henin's past controversies and transgressions against your notion of sportsmanship. Well, there's this bridge. Look over the rail. See that water? It's not the same water that was there 30 seconds or 5 days or 9 years ago. And, of course, it won't be the same water that is there 30 seconds from now, and this is about the now.

If you flip through Henin's presser, you'll notice the recurrence of certain words: tough, intense, professional, emotional. . . Of these, I think the most intriguing word is "emotional." It's bizarre that someone who is so unskilled at expressing emotion, thereby failing to generate sympathy or empathy in so many, uses that word so often. Henin sometimes seems to exist inside the bubble of the self to an extraordinary degree, which in and of itself is not exactly a sympathy generator. Yet what was once a soap bubble has become a resiliant, puncture-proof and therefore entirely safe bubble. And as Justine has grown more secure in it, she has been more able to express her emotions, although the difference between expressing the word and expressing. . . emotion. . . remains great.

That's alright, we all have a cross to bear, and if has seemed in the past that Justine has lugged hers around, staggering and lurching from one Grand Slam title to another.  That  was a bit tedious, but  more a matter of  personality than, well, professionalism. In fact, if Henin has been guilty of anything, it may be allowing the "it's all about me" mentality of a professional jump like a spark between two different wires, the personal and professional. Her major transgression - and this goes right to the heart of her inexcusable pull-out in the Australian Open final - has been obliterating the boundaries between Justine the (presumably) decent, sensitive person and Henin the dedicated professional. Nobody ever accused this girl of not giving herself entirely to the job.

And that, at the end of the day, has bought Henin to this juncture - seven majors and counting. That's one fewer major than Serena Williams, and one more than her sister, Venus. The tortoise and hare scenario is at work here; Justine may end up with more majors than either of the Williamses, and in the history books that's all anybody will care about. Her recent feat, beating the Williams sisters in back-to-back matches and bagging the US Open title was remarkable. And the way she handled her moments of triumph was no less so.

Considering the volatility of her rivalry with the Williams sisters, Henin showed great restraint when, following her win over Venus, a reporter asked her if she was "disappointed" by a reference Williams made to not feeling entire 100 per cent.

She replied: "No, I don't care. I mean, I'm focused on myself and I don't care. I just want to be a little bit. . . (here she bit her lip, it seems) no more comment about that. It's better."

It's better.

Taking the high ground on that one was not merely wise, it was extremely professional. Why should one of the great moments of the tournament, as well as Justine's career, be marred by sniping and trash-talking? How does it look for tennis, or Justine and Venus, if the reportage of the match winds up focused on whining, carping, or exchanging barbs? Avoid the controversy and everyone wins.

A little later in the presser, Justine said of the Williamses: ". . . I mean, they both have a lot of personality, and a lot of character, and I think they are both great champions. I can admit that, and it's tough to play against them."

We all know that Justine went through a rough patch early in the year, missing the Australian Open (among other things) because of her divorce. Of that, she said at one point: ". . . There were many other things in my life going on, probably much more important than my tennis. But I was a bit concerned about professionally how I was going to come back on the tour."

This struck me as as astonishing statement of personal responsibility and of love for the game, and it was nice to see that the game has loved her back.