<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
9806300183
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
980630
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Tuesday, June 30, 1998
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT; SPORTS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1C
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1998, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
WIMBLEDON FINDS FAULT WITH WILLIAMS SISTERS
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
WIMBLEDON, England -- In tennis, there are always two big stories: the reigning champions, and the
young turks on the horizon. In case you missed it, the horizon these days is
dwarfed by a pair of tall, gangly, American teenaged sisters named Venus and
Serena Williams. They hover like twin tornadoes. Both are unorthodox, fast,
wickedly powerful with their ground strokes, and as promising as a tooth that
bursts through the skin.
  
They also make the tennis world uncomfortable. But it is not, as some people
claim, because they are black. That's the simple explanation. But even
hoity-toity Wimbledon has had its share of black female players, including
Lori McNeil, a 1994 semifinalist, and Althea Gibson, a two-time champion.

No. What throws this sport off is not the Williamses' skin, but their
attitude. It is not, well, tennis. Basketball, maybe. Football, maybe.
American, definitely. But tennis? Or Wimbledon? Uh-uh. The Williams sisters at
the All England Club are like mustard on a scone. It may work. But it will
take some getting used to.
  
You see it in their attitude toward opponents, which borders on the
dismissive. You hear it in their self-predictions, which go way past bold. You
witness it at times such as Monday, when a small group of reporters came to
hear Venus, 18, after her 6-3, 6-4 victory over Chanda Rubin in the third
round. One of the first questions was about Serena, 16, who had been on track
to face her sister in their next match.
  
"Were you surprised when you heard she had lost?" one reporter asked.
  
"She didn't lose," Venus said curtly. "She retired with an injury."
  
A few eyebrows raised.
  
"This is your second Wimbledon," another reporter said. "How far do you expect
to go?"
  
"I'm at the point where I can do this now."
  
"You mean ...win the whole thing?"
  
"Yes."
  
More raised eyebrows.
  
"In your opinion, was playing Serena the toughest obstacle you had left to
winning?"
  
Venus nodded. "Serena is definitely the toughest player out there."
  
The toughest player out there? Is she serious? Pencils scribbled. Heads shook.
  
Then again, consider where we are.
  

  
That just isn't done -- here
  

  
In America, when a boastful kid predicts success, we smile. In America, if a
player scowls at an opponent, we call it "game face."
  
This is not America. So when Serena quit Monday with a strained left calf
while trailing Spaniard Virginia Ruano-Pascual, 7-5, 4-1 -- despite having won
the last game -- then said it was too bad, because she planned on winning the
tournament, well, that's going to raise eyebrows. You don't say that here. But
Williams, in her first Wimbledon, said it anyhow.
  
Or when Venus, a few months ago, said, "I plan to be No. 1 in the world before
the end of the year" -- despite being ranked No. 12 at the time and lacking a
single Grand Slam championship? You don't say those kinds of things in tennis.
But Venus said them anyhow.
  
Or when their father, Richard -- the son of a Louisiana sharecropper, who
learned tennis from books and videos and coached his kids himself -- admitted
his interest came from seeing a female player win a big check on TV?
  
"I knew I was in the wrong business," he recounted. "I said to my wife, 'Let's
make two more babies and become millionaires.' "
  
You just don't say things like that in tennis. But Williams said them anyhow.
  
And that, more than anything, is what brings out the cringes in the longtime
tennis types. Especially at Wimbledon, the high court, which prefers polite,
humble players who pay homage to the hallowed grass.
  
Compared to that, Venus and Serena are gunslingers kicking in the saloon door.
  
Of course, it doesn't help that they seem uninterested in protocol (Venus once
banged into an opponent on a changeover. Serena didn't bother to shake
Ruano-Pascual's hand Monday, later saying, "I guess I forgot.")
  
Wimbledon is not a place you forget your manners. And like it or not, the
Williams sisters are quickly going to face a crossroads: become more
tennis-like, or risk being outcasts the rest of their careers.
  

  
Others have paid the price
  

  
Not that any of it will affect their success. You only have to watch them play
to see their talent. Neither has developed a soft touch at the net, yet Venus
already is No. 6 in the world, and Serena is No. 20. Bud Collins, the NBC
analyst, calls them "the future of American tennis." Venus hit some shots
Monday that most men would have a hard time returning.
  
But just as the two girls benefit from their father -- who trained them
privately, educated them privately, and kept them off the circuit until he
felt they were ready -- so, too, do they pay a price for being so long outside
the tennis community. Simply put, they approach sports with a brashness that
we back home are used to, but most folks in tennis are not.
  
It's up to them to soften or not. Monica Seles paid for such bravado early in
her career. She realized it most poignantly after she was stabbed, and barely
a player came to visit her. Likewise, Marcelo Rios, the Chilean star, is
talented, brash, cocky -- and hated on the tour.
  
It would be a shame for the Williams sisters to have to run their whole
careers in the outside lane. Tennis should embrace them with all their skills,
just as they should embrace tennis with all its tradition. But like it or not,
they are coming over the horizon with the force of a twister. And it will be
interesting to see, between the family and the fraternity, which bends first.
  
To leave a message for Mitch Albom, call 1-313-223-4581.
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<DISCLAIMER>
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
COLUMN;WIMBLEDON;SERENA WILLIAMS;VENUS WILLIAMS
</KEYWORDS>
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