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Post by Admin on Feb 26, 2020 18:44:21 GMT
How do you leave behind the only life you’ve ever known? How do you walk away from the courts you’ve trained on since you were a little girl, the game that you love—one which brought you untold tears and unspeakable joys—a sport where you found a family, along with fans who rallied behind you for more than 28 years? I’m new to this, so please forgive me. Tennis—I’m saying goodbye. Before we get to the end, though, let me start at the beginning. The first time I remember seeing a tennis court, my father was playing on it. I was four years old in Sochi, Russia—so small that my tiny legs were dangling off the bench I was sitting on. So small that the racket I picked up next to me was twice my size. When I was six, I traveled across the globe to Florida with my father. The whole world seemed gigantic back then. The airplane, the airport, the wide expanse of America: Everything was enormous—as was my parents’ sacrifice. When I first started playing, the girls on the other side of the net were always older, taller, and stronger; the tennis greats I watched on TV seemed untouchable and out of reach. But little by little, with every day of practice on the court, this almost mythical world became more and more real. The first courts I ever played on were uneven concrete with faded lines. Over time, they became muddy clay and the most gorgeous, manicured grass your feet could ever step upon. But never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d ever win on the sport’s biggest stages—and on every surface. Wimbledon seemed like a good place to start. I was a naive 17-year-old, still collecting stamps, and didn’t understand the magnitude of my victory until I was older—and I’m glad I didn’t. My edge, though, was never about feeling superior to other players. It was about feeling like I was on the verge of falling off a cliff—which is why I constantly returned to the court to figure out how to keep climbing. The U.S. Open showed me how to overcome distractions and expectations. If you couldn’t handle the commotion of New York—well, the airport was almost next-door. Dosvidanya. http://instagram.com/p/B9CBIXtJ1eP The Australian Open took me to a place that had never been a part of me before—to an extreme confidence that some people call being “in the zone.” I really can’t explain it—but it was a good place to be. The clay at the French Open exposed virtually all my weaknesses—for starters, my inability to slide on it—and forced me to overcome them. Twice. That felt good. These courts revealed my true essence. Behind the photo shoots and the pretty tennis dresses, they exposed my imperfections—every wrinkle, every drop of sweat. They tested my character, my will, my ability to channel my raw emotions into a place where they worked for me instead of against me. Between their lines, my vulnerabilities felt safe. How lucky am I to have found a kind of ground on which I felt so exposed and yet so comfortable?
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Post by Admin on Feb 26, 2020 19:51:21 GMT
One of the keys to my success was that I never looked back and I never looked forward. I believed that if I kept grinding and grinding, I could push myself to an incredible place. But there is no mastering tennis—you must simply keep heeding the demands of the court while trying to quiet those incessant thoughts in the back of your mind:
Did you do enough—and more—to prepare for your next opponent?
You’ve taken a few days off—your body’s losing that edge.
That extra slice of pizza? Better make up for it with a great morning session.
Listening to this voice so intimately, anticipating its every ebb and flow, is also how I accepted those final signals when they came.
One of them came last August at the U.S. Open. Behind closed doors, thirty minutes before taking the court, I had a procedure to numb my shoulder to get through the match. Shoulder injuries are nothing new for me—over time my tendons have frayed like a string. I’ve had multiple surgeries—once in 2008; another procedure last year—and spent countless months in physical therapy. Just stepping onto the court that day felt like a final victory, when of course it should have been merely the first step toward victory. I share this not to garner pity, but to paint my new reality: My body had become a distraction.
Throughout my career, Is it worth it? was never even a question—in the end, it always was. My mental fortitude has always been my strongest weapon. Even if my opponent was physically stronger, more confident—even just plain better—I could, and did, persevere.
I’ve never really felt compelled to speak about work, or effort, or grit—every athlete understands the unspoken sacrifices they must make to succeed. But as I embark on my next chapter, I want anyone who dreams of excelling in anything to know that doubt and judgment are inevitable: You will fail hundreds of times, and the world will watch you. Accept it. Trust yourself. I promise that you will prevail.
In giving my life to tennis, tennis gave me a life. I’ll miss it everyday. I’ll miss the training and my daily routine: Waking up at dawn, lacing my left shoe before my right, and closing the court’s gate before I hit my first ball of the day. I’ll miss my team, my coaches. I’ll miss the moments sitting with my father on the practice court bench. The handshakes—win or lose—and the athletes, whether they knew it or not, who pushed me to be my best.
Looking back now, I realize that tennis has been my mountain. My path has been filled with valleys and detours, but the views from its peak were incredible. After 28 years and five Grand Slam titles, though, I’m ready to scale another mountain—to compete on a different type of terrain.
That relentless chase for victories, though? That won’t ever diminish. No matter what lies ahead, I will apply the same focus, the same work ethic, and all of the lessons I’ve learned along the way.
In the meantime, there are a few simple things I’m really looking forward to: A sense of stillness with my family. Lingering over a morning cup of coffee. Unexpected weekend getaways. Workouts of my choice (hello, dance class!).
Tennis showed me the world—and it showed me what I was made of. It’s how I tested myself and how I measured my growth. And so in whatever I might choose for my next chapter, my next mountain, I’ll still be pushing. I’ll still be climbing. I’ll still be growing.
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Post by Admin on Feb 27, 2020 19:52:06 GMT
Maria Sharapova took retirement from professional tennis on Wednesday. Sports personalities from all over the globe paid tribute to the Russian with a horde of messages. Rafael Nadal also greeted Sharapova’s retirement news by recounting how she inspired millions of people around the world. Former World No.1 and five-time Grand Slam champion, Maria Sharapova took retirement from professional tennis on Wednesday. Sports personalities from all over the globe paid tribute to the Russian with a horde of messages. Rafael Nadal also greeted Sharapova’s retirement news by recounting how she inspired millions of people around the world. The Russian star decided to hang up her racquet at the age of 32. The persistent struggles with shoulder and arm injuries over the past 18 months created doubts about her future. The injuries also hampered her comeback to the top after the 2-year doping ban in 2016. However, the five-time major winner tried her level best before quitting on Wednesday. After needing 1 hour and 36 minutes to defeat Miomir Kecmanović 6-2, 7-5 at the Mexican Open 2020 on Wednesday, Nadal lauded Sharapova’s contribution to the sport on the day of her retirement. “She’s worked really hard from a very young age to achieve her goals. It’s a sad day because an icon is leaving, a reference in women’s sports. She’s given a lot to tennis. Above all, she’s been an example of passion for the sport,” Nadal said in the post-match press conference.
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Post by Admin on Feb 28, 2020 1:05:39 GMT
Maria Sharapova has hung up her racket on a 5-time Grand Slam-winning career that saw her dazzle as a teenage phenomenon, but then shot down by smear and scrutiny, as her name became mired in the murky meldonium scandal. It was a far cry from when she was just a child when her father borrowed cash to fly them both from Russia to the US to coach the spindly seven-year-old from the Ural region into tennis’ next superstar. A decade later, and the gamble paid off when Sharapova etched her name onto the All England club winners board by beating all-time great Serena Williams in the 2004 Wimbledon final. Aged 17, she was not yet old enough to toast her victory as the third-youngest women’s singles winner at SW19. From there, Sharapova’s stock soared as a court darling. The nubile, endearing star was a marketing dream and her backstory soon became as famous as her backhand, and the buzz around her rivaled in noise only by her on-court grunting. Sharapova would go on to sit atop the WTA rankings as world number one in August 2005, aged 18. A year later she added the US Open, and in 2008 won a Grand Slam title Down Under. It wouldn’t be until 2012 that Sharapova completed her ‘career slam’ of clinching all of the tennis majors when she won the French Open, and again winning at Roland-Garros two year later. She had by this time become the most decorated Russian to ever lace up a pair of tennis shoes and her image as the girl-next-door done good through the American Dream transcended sport into fashion and pop culture. But in the world of social media stars are built up to be torn down, and Sharapova’s pristine image came brutally crashing back down to earth faster and more furiously than a forehand volley in early 2016, when she tested positive for meldonium. Sharapova remained truthful. "I did fail the test, and I take full responsibility for it,” she said in a statement, admitting taking the drug for 10 years when it was legal, and claiming ignorance of the recent rule change. The Russian was the most high-profile of 127 athletes to test positive for the newly-outlawed drug, in her case while contesting the Australian Open. However, the World Anti-Doping Agency’s flimsy research into how long meldonium stays in the bloodstream led to some expected grey areas.
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Post by Admin on Feb 28, 2020 6:32:22 GMT
Late Wednesday evening, Grigor Dimitrov nearly saw his second-round match get completely away from him in Acapulco. But the Bulgarian regrouped from blowing a 4-1 double break lead, saving two match points before surviving in a decisive tiebreaker over Adrian Mannarino.
Earlier in the day, Dimitrov’s former longtime girlfriend, Maria Sharapova, announced she was stepping away from the game. There would be no organized sendoff for the five-time major champion, but Dimitrov, who fittingly channeled the Russian’s fighting spirit, had nothing but admiration for his once partner-in-crime.
“There’s so much I can say, [though] it’s not the place for me to say much. Maria is who she is,” Dimitrov told Prakash Amritraj. “Nothing but love and respect for that person. We’re great friends.”
Sharapova made the decision after injuries, particular her shoulder, took their toll, along with her ranking dropping outside of the Top 350. Though the 32-year-old didn’t get to soak up one final victory, Dimitrov has no doubt that Sharapova will maintain the same drive that propelled her to the top of her sport in her next chapter.
“I know one thing’s for sure: whatever she takes on, she’s going to do it at her best,” he said. “I’m sure we’re going to see a lot from her in the future.”
The seventh-seeded Dimitrov will take on No. 3 seed Stan Wawrinka on Thursday night for a place in the semifinals. Wawrinka owns a 7-4 head-to-head advantage, and has won five consecutive clashes.
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