I Wanted to be Jesse Owens

The discussion in Helen W's Roland Garros Postmorten remains on my mind. That's how good it is. She asked what brings a person to a player, pointing out Mad Professah's assertion that those of us who play tennis competitively probably sympathize more with Raja, while those of us who don't probably identify more with Rafa.

I respect them both, though I don't count myself as a fan of either.

I don't play tennis very well. I certainly don't play it competitively. Many folks who have seen me hit a tennis ball would say I don't play tennis at all. I wouldn't disagree.

But for 12 years, starting at age 7, I ran track. Was pretty good, too. Held a national record in the 220 yard dash for a season. I also excelled in the long jump and triple jump.

I was an extremely competitive athlete. I played softball, football, basketball, even swam on my high-school team. But my heart belonged to athletics.

I wanted to be Jesse Owens.

But when I grew too fast one summer, when the extreme pain of the Osgood-Slaughters disease that made my knees feel as though they had separated in their joint, I lost much of my speed and had to settle for hurdles to remain competitive as a sprinter.

I did all of this on a deformed right foot that caused me to feel as though I had sprained my ankle after every practice, after every meet. I would limp home in severe pain. The pediatrician told my parents there was no remedy for my ankle pain short of surgery. But since the deformity was the result of the fusion of the navicular and cuboid bones, even that probably wouldn't help. All I could do was ice it down, tape it up, and get back on the track for the next practice, the next meet.

Or, quit sports altogether.

That wasn't an option.

I enjoy watching any athlete in any sport at the top of his/her game. That includes Roger Federer, whom I simply do not like.

My love for Serena Williams (a narcissist who is growing up) and Andy Roddick (a brat who is growing up) has mostly to do with the fact that these were the two players who brought me back to tennis after not following the sport closely for years.

It certainly helped that I like the way they play tennis. The way they serve. Bludgeon their forehands. How they don't take their gifts for granted but continue to work to improve their weaknesses. The way they have responded to career setbacks, including injury and tragedy, in Serena's case, and the emergence of a player at the height of his career who has (so far) kept him from achieving one of his biggest dreams, in Andy's case. The way they fight to the finish line, win or lose. How they keep coming back, despite what their naysayers say.

They ice down their ankles, tape them up, and get back on the court to face the next challenge.