main

Since I was born, I have always preferred the thrill of one-on-one sports. As a tennis amateur, I grew up trying to imitate, albeit with little success, the stilish moves of the greatest champions. I admired John Mc Enroe and his genius, I loved Monica Seles and her courage. Well and fondly I remember the Parisian clay and the Wimbledon grass, the fierce battles with Ivan Lendl and Steffi Graf. And then came the age of an amazing girl...



Take an American player born in Germany, give him the temper of an Irishman, make him lefty. Add pure genius at 100%, shake well and you have John Mc Enroe. Never has any player brought tennis nearest to an art than John Mc Enroe. All the greatest champions have had scores of imitators that drew inspiration from them. But "The Genius" was never imitated by anybody. He was inimitable.	Monica is the most courageous tennis player I have ever seen: she hits the ball with the whipping movement and trademark grunt that have made her famous, she plays like her life depends on every point. Despite a troubled career, or perhaps because of it, Monica is the player I look at most fondly, the one she played the best matches I can remember, the one I cried for when she was stabbed.	Martina is cunning, gifted, intelligent. She doesn't play attack or defense: she plays. She moves deftly, striking the ball with the grace of a natural gesture, all the while cajoling, grinning, joking, juggling, like an artist who constantly strives to reach perfection. Martina is beautiful, charming, intelligent. Much more important, she is a girl before being a player, a real person and not just another robot. She has a joyous, simple approach to life; she loves dancing, movies and every kind of sports you can name. Yes, incidentally, she's the best in the world at tennis, but what dazzles and overwhelms me, like a moth attracted to the flame, is her bright smile.