Serena Williams is through to the semis, after crushing an injured Amelie Mauresmo, and you'd almost think she'd read my previous posts, judging from some of her post-match remarks. What stands out most is her spirited response to suggestions that the Williams dynasty is crumbling:
"I don't appreciate that language, to be honest with you. I'm tired of not saying anything, but that's not fair. We've been practicing really hard. We've had some serious injuries. I mean, I've had surgery. And after surgery, I got to the finals of Wimbledon. I don't know too many people that have done that.
"{Venus} played a player yesterday that just played out of her mind and Venus made some errors that she probably shouldn't have made. And to top it off, we have a very, very, very, very, very close family. To be in some situations that we've been placed in in the past little over a year, it's not easy to come out and just perform at your best when you realize there are so many things that are so important.
"So, no, we're not declining. We're here. I don't have to win this tournament to prove anything."
Isn't it great that Serena has decided to tell us what she really thinks? Wouldn't it be better—for everyone—if she, and even more importantly, Venus, did so more often? The thing is, these girls have a great story, one of the most amazing, inspiring stories ever, and not just in tennis—in all of sports. Today, though, they're disconnected from their fan base and the public at large, cowering behind a shield of self-pitying defiance and coy silence.
Note to Serena: If you're tired of not saying anything, speak honestly and freely and openly more often. If we don't have sufficient compassion for what you're going through, tell us what you're going through or, alternately, keep quiet. You can't have it both ways, you know. You can't expect us to feel your pain if you won't talk about your pain.
And one other thing: You're the bomb, Serena, no doubt. You're to tennis what T.O. is to football and Shaq is to basketball. And you're charming and vivacious and slightly nutty and all those other groovy things. So stop making statements like the one you delivered after beating a woman (Mauresmo) who said that all you had to do, because of her injury, was get the ball back over the net.
Analyzing your chances, you said, "I just feel my advantage is going to boil down to me playing my shots. Like I said, if I play well then it's hard to beat me."
You and Venus should stop telling the world how much better you are than everyone else—even if it's true. Let others, or your racquets, make that kind of statement. It should be a piece of cake.