MVN - Most Valuable Network

Justine Retires

Justine Henin has retired from tennis, still ranked No. 1, though in the throes of a mysterious (or maybe not so mysterious) slump.

She made the announcement at a press conference just minutes ago, and it certainly doesn’t sound like she’s going to change her mind: “This is the end of a child’s dream…This is a definitive decision…I started thinking about it late last year. I was at the end of the road…I don’t have the will to play one day more.” When her compatriot and long-time rival Kim Clijsters retired last year, she was married, and pregnant, within a few months. Kim had had one foot out the door for the past year or so, giving us the sense that her extra-tennis life couldn’t wait any longer for her to devote her full attention to it. Justine has said, “I take this decision without the least bit of regrets. It is my life as a woman that starts now,” and it really does feel that way doesn’t it? For all the press last year about Justine reuniting with her long-estranged father and siblings, opening up, and becoming more well-rounded as a person, there is still the sense that she has lived and breathed tennis with an exclusive intensity, preventing other aspects of her life from developing fully. That’s a lot of speculation, I admit, and she was, of course, married to Pierre-Yves Hardenne for more than four years between 2002 and 2007, but he seemed like such a blithe character in comparison with Justine that I always wondered whether he was more of a stress-relieving device than a deeply intimate companion.

Again, that’s some serious speculation, but Henin has been such a private and such a potent figure throughout her career, it’s hard to resist trying to analyze her. Seeing her perform at her best was the most pleasure I ever got from watching tennis or any other sport, but even more than her tennis, her face is what always fascinated me. She looked tortured after nearly every point, and the strain never seemed to be the result of just the particular moment in question, or the particular match, or tournament, and it never seemed to fully leave her, even when she wasn’t competing. The pressure she was under seemed cumulative, like the pressure at the bottom of the sea–combining the force of every meter of water between the eerie, alienated depths and the nearly forgotten surface. The surface for Justine may have been the moment of her mother’s death when she was twelve, and, in a way, perhaps her whole career was like a dream emanating from a visit with her mother to the French Open, and the promise she made that she would win it someday. She won it four times, and accomplished plenty more on the court, and now I suppose she feels it’s time to find a new place to surface, and learn to exist under the very different physical, mental, and emotional rules that preside over the world on the other side.

Her career-long coach, Carlos Rodriguez, will, no doubt, remain a life-long companion. Their bond has been more intimate than any I can recall in the tennis world. That harried face of Justine’s would look to him after nearly every point for support–not to mention tactical signals–so that you felt she really couldn’t have done it without him. At the retirement press conference, Rodriguez broke into tears and stated that “Because of her, I am somebody.” He’s right, of course, but I’d be surprised if she didn’t feel the same way about him. The falling out with her father, José, occurred in 2002, and since then Rodriguez had been seemingly her best friend and surrogate father as well as coach. Now, with the reconciliation, José has wasted no time in publishing a book, with the rather hegemonic title, Justine, My Daughter, My Champion. I have a hard time seeing Carlos ever publish a book about Justine, although if he did, he could certainly lay better claim to the “My Champion” part of José’s title–maybe the whole thing?

Much will be written about Justine over the next couple of weeks. Among other things, her place in the pantheon of women’s tennis greats will be discussed. Tennis historians will weigh her seven Slams against the double-digits of Court, Graf, Navritilova, and Evert. There’ll be some “pound-for-pound” talk (a woman Justine’s size competing in an era of giants) and there’ll be some “could’ve beens”, mostly centering on the 2006 season–when she made all four Slam finals but triumphed in only one of them–and, above all, on Wimbledon. Justine talked about Wimbledon a little today. I’m assuming it was in response to a specific question, but it might as well have been in response to the ones she knows will come, perhaps from a voice of pride in her own head as she adjusts to a life-style that means not only no more playing, but no more winning–no more chances to win.

Justine said: “Winning Wimbledon would not make me happier than I am. I could never dream of Wimbledon. It was destiny. I didn’t feel myself capable. It was too much for me.” All I have to say is, she was a set away in 2006, having won the first, against Mauresmo, 6-2, when suddenly her serve deserted her at the beginning of the second set. Mauresmo played well and served extremely well for the rest of the match, but when Justine came out in the second set it looked like just what she said: she didn’t feel capable, she was overwhelmed. She had the game to do it–at the moment she hadn’t lost a set yet in the tournament, just as she’d won the French without dropping a set–but somehow she didn’t believe. Why? Perhaps because the speed of the court put more pressure on her serve, and her awareness of her short physical stature, than any other surface. I’m sure that had something to do with it, but the whole, internal story is impossible to know. We all do know what happened the next year, though, against Marion Bartoli in the semis. Let’s just say that Justine was not only one of the most emotionally tough players on the women’s tour, she was one of–no, the most emotionally complicated. And for that reason, as much as for the beauty and efficiency of her game, she will be missed.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, May 14th, 2008 at 9:52 am and is filed under Kim Clijsters, Justine Henin, Tennis History, Wimbledon, French Open. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.