By GARY SHELTON, Times Sports Columnist
Published July 3, 2005
WIMBLEDON, England - And in what may be interpreted as a final argument for the jury in the "Venus Doesn't Care Enough" trial, the following image may be considered:
She was 3 years old again, and the world was simply too much fun to sit through. Venus Williams bounced again and again, as if a child skipping rope, as if Centre Court had turned into a trampoline.
She bounded and she beamed, and she fell onto the grass. After a moment, she rose and sat in a chair, her head lolled back, but she didn't stay there long either. She stood and hopped around a little more, as if she could not keep her feet on the ground, her smile from her face or her joy from her heart.
This was Venus, the stoic one, detached and distant. This was the Williams sister who was too hard to read, too vague to understand, too passive to compete. This was the player whose career had been lost in the starlight.
Gee. Maybe she cares a little, after all.
Gee. Maybe she cares a lot.
Venus Williams reconquered the Earth Saturday. In the longest women's final match in Wimbledon history, she came from behind to beat Lindsay Davenport, the No. 1 player in the world, 4-6, 7-6 (7-4), 9-7.
And she hopped.
And she grinned.
"I was just so excited," Williams said. "I can't help myself when I get excited. I show it all. I could have jumped for a lot longer."
It was a sweet scene, a snapshot of rebirth and recommitment. Venus had turned into yesterday's news. It had been four years since she had won Wimbledon - since she won any Grand Slam, for that matter - and her world ranking had fallen like Mike Tyson's. Lately, all the talk about Venus concerned her flawed game and her fragile confidence.
This, then, will be remembered as the tournament where Venus showed she still has a fighter's heart. Williams was not as honed in against Davenport as she had been in the semifinals against Maria Sharapova, and her game seemed to tune in and out like a distant radio station. Whenever a point needed winning, however, it belonged to her.
"Every time the chips were down for Venus, she played great," Davenport said. "I had a lot of chances, and I felt she never allowed me to take advantage of those chances. She just took it away from me every time I got up. Whenever I was about to shut the door completely, it was like, "Oops, let's open that back up."'
Think of a boxer against the ropes, a mountain climber clawing up the ledge. Davenport won the first set, and then jumped up a break in the second. Venus came back. Davenport surged ahead in the third set, and she had a chance to go ahead 5-2. Venus came back. Davenport had a break point for match at 5-4. Venus came back.
Not since 1935, when Helen Wills Moody did it against Helen Jacobs, has a woman fought off a match point to come back and win. Never had a woman seeded as low as 14th won the title.
"For sure, it has special meaning," Williams said. "I was the 14th seed. I wasn't supposed to win."
Given all of that, her age (25) and her ranking (16), her competition and her critics, her surroundings and her success, how does a player keep from jumping up and down like a fan at Live 8?
And she smiled.
And she jumped.
Not far away from the exultation, a father remembered a girl who, at the age of 3, hopped the same way.
"When Venus was small, we used to have a game called "Let's Make Those Legs Strong,"' Richard Williams said, grinning. "The girls would hop around like that. This reminded me of that. It was hard to keep the tears from my eyes.
"It's the most fun Venus has ever had winning a tournament. When you're ranked No. 16 in the world, it's hard enough to win a Grand Slam. But to do it against someone like Lindsay Davenport, who is no slouch, is special."
Someone suggested to Williams they have never seen his daughter so happy.
"Neither have I," he said.
For a long time, Richard Williams will tell you, his daughter has struggled with her confidence. Serena, Venus' younger sister, had won the last half-dozen Grand Slams in the family.
"I would tell her she could be No. 1 again," Richard said, "but she had to want to be No. 1."
With Serena eliminated early in Wimbledon, this turned into Venus' show. History is filled with acts who are better as singles than as part of a duo: Paul Simon comes to mind. So do Cher and George Michael and Dudley Moore and Bob Hope and Batman.
Maybe Venus is like that, too. Maybe she needs to think of this as her solo CD. On her own, it was easier to see Venus' determination, her resilience, her passion.
Ask Davenport, who was good enough to win most of the lesser points on Saturday. On the big points, however, Williams suddenly grew bigger and stronger, and Davenport kept backing up.
"She deserved it," Davenport said. "I mean, she deserved to win, absolutely. She fought hard and she played well when she was down. She was great."
That's Lindsay, old good-sport-Davenport, a player who never grunts and seldom groans. Davenport would not blame her bad back or her bad bounces. Venus Williams just happened to pick the wrong day to give up apathy for her. Davenport simply was run over by a comeback story.
Now what? Venus looks as if she is back, and perhaps that can stir Serena into getting into proper condition again.
"Look at Martina Navratilova," Richard Williams said. "She can still beat some of the girls out here. I told Venus that if she wants to, she can be No. 1 until she's 34. I haven't seen anything to make me change my mind.
"For her critics, that's a pretty good way to answer. I can't think of any better way to say it."
