For the past several months, I’ve been wondering what happened to former world No. 1 Martina Hingis’ comeback bid in the WTA. If I can recall, she made it to as high as No. 6 overall last year after winning a couple of titles, though none a Grand Slam.
Until I learned of her alleged “cocaine” use that forced her to announce her second retirement (Just like Mike). The reason behind her first retirement was self frustration; she couldn’t match the muscled players like the Williamses and Mauresmo power for power and injuries started to nag her body. This time, she said she just wanted to avoid facing such “horrendous” accusation, and so retirement was the option.
You see, Hingis was my ex-fiancée. I proposed marriage to her during the Finals of the Australian Open in 1997 when she defeated Mary Pierce to become the first Swiss woman to win a Grand Slam singles event.
From then on, we were inseparable. We always spent time in the living room. I sit on the couch and she was on television.
What made me fell in love with her was her superb tennis. A close second was her charming smile. She was the best tactician on the tennis court. She outsmarted every opponent, playing decoy and then attacking with precision shots. She was the modern Navratilova, after whom she was named.
Success came to her at a very young age. Fame, fortune, and youth combined are very lethal, unless one has tremendous self-control. Hingis, perhaps, lost her self-control that her fall came so suddenly after a 209-week stint as World No. 1 in women’s tennis and setting several “youngest-ever” records in the sport.
She made a comeback in 2005, but she was never the same threat to the throne now held by Henin and eyed for by the Russians.
Since Hingis’ fall, my excitement watching women’s tennis has dwindled. Yeah, Sharapova is stunning, but only physically. The others who really master the women’s game are those who Hingis termed as “man-like.”
I longed for finesse, guile, and beauty in women’s tennis. Only Hingis rolled all these under one sleeve. But she’s gone.
I miss the Swiss Miss.
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