In this article, wrote in 2006 for Tennis.com, Miguel Seabra reveals the not-so-humble origins of the first Chinese woman to reach Wimbledon singles semifinals. She will donate her whole prize money to China's earthquake fund.
May 2006
After the UK had to give Hong Kong away, Portugal handed Macau back to China in the last day of 1999. And if prosperous Macau was just a small portion of land within the portuguese colonization that took place between the XIV and XVIII centuries, the chinese came to Portugal to jumpstart what seems to be an inevitable worldwide tennis colonization in the near future.
This last weekend, at the Estoril Open, chinese players completed a significant sweep that included both singles and doubles titles, highlighted by the first ever all-chinese singles final on the WTA Tour. If tsunami wasn’t a Japanese word, I would use it to describe what looms in the future for women’s tennis: a ‘yellow wave’, spurred by the recent success of chinese players on the pro tour and the focus on the Olympic tennis tournament in Beijing.
Actually, I was already expecting the chinese to dominate last years’ edition of the Estoril Open. I had seen several matches from China’s best players since 2004 and commented some more on TV; besides that, the father of Portugal’s Frederica Piedade, who played a lot of smaller (10.000 to 25.000 USD) international events in China, had already told me that chinese players would be a regular fixture in the women’s top 100 sooner or later. So, it wasn’t a big surprise that they left Portugal with the singles runner-up trophy (Na Li lost narrowly to Lucie Safarova in three sets) and the doubles cup (won by Li Ting and Tian Tian Sun), besides Jie Zheng getting to the quarters in singles. This year, they came back – and won everything, besides communicating better with the media and looking increasingly more open to the western world.
In 2005, Jiang Hong Wei – head coach of the National Training Center in Beijing – was the translator and spokesperson for every single player and everything concerning the chinese group, that included director Wang Guang-He. Coach Jiang said back then that the girls couldn’t express themselves in english, but I had already talked to Na Li at the Australian Open and it was obvious they understood what was being said in english, especially when the expressions «prize-money» and «sex symbol» came up during the pressers (someone asked if Na Li was considered a sex symbol in China and she reacted immediately). But Jiang Hong Wei always had the first and the last word: he translated the reporters’ questions to the players, listened to them and then answered back the press in english.
I met Na Li, the more extrovert of the Chinese players, again at the Australian Open this year and talked to her in english; she answered back in english, so I joked, saying «oh, so now you know more words in english besides prize-money?». She laughed a lot and said they would probably play the Estoril Open again this year. They did, and made tennis history: both Na Li and Jie Zheng dominated all their opponents in two sets to set up the first all-chinese final – and, like a chinese cookie, the outcome of that final was surprising… or not.
I knew beforehand that the Chinese team had a plane to catch around 4.20 pm on Sunday. Since the women’s final started at noon (the men’s final between David Nalbandian and Nikolay Davydenko was scheduled to begin at 3 pm), I thought there was the risk of having the start of the men’s final delayed and that they could lose that flight – chinese patience is legendary, so a long final was looming in the horizon…
As expected, it was a tight match and the first two sets lasted over two hours; both Na Li and Jie Zheng were going for each other’s more erratic forehands rather than their respective solid backhands. Na Li, more powerfully built and with a more powerful game, won the first set in the tie-break; then Jie Zheng, who has a truly awkward forehand, managed to win the second, 7-5. By then, Na Li was already complaining about muscular problems and cramping; she sat down, called the physio and never stood up again: she retired and couldn’t even get up to receive her runner-up trophy and didn’t go to the press conference afterwards.
Knowing of their flight arrangements, I asked portuguese chair umpire Carlos Ramos – who was on the chair for the final and who has enough experience, having already directed two singles Grand Slam finals – about Na Li’s condition. He said he was 100 per cent sure she really had muscle problems: in his opinion, she was not faking it and he actually saw the tightness of her leg muscles. Then I went to Na Li’s chair and asked her what she thought the problem was. «Because I lost last year, I wanted to win badly this year, especially this being the first all-chinese final. I was too tense and nervous; I got tired», she said.
Some portuguese press raised some doubts this monday about the ‘strange’ outcome of the final and mentioned Team China had to catch a flight; they even found funny the WTA Tour’s announcement that Na Li retired with... ‘heat illness’. I really can’t tell if there was something wrong about it, especially about what Carlos Ramos told me. Besides that, since Na Li lost last year’s final and is trailing Jie Zheng in the rankings, if there were any previous arrangements I guess the logical decision would be to favor Na Li (who actually won the first set)…
After receiving the winner’s trophy, Jie Zheng rushed to the Sponsors Village, where she had to collect a watch by Baume & Mercier worth around 2000 dollars and take a couple of pictures with it. On her way back, I asked her if she was to keep the watch – or if she had to give it to the Chinese Tennis Association man. She laughed and said right there that she would keep it, but afterwards I had to ask Jiang Hong Wei the same question. He laughed at it – he’s always in a good mood – and said: «Of course she is keeping it. We are more open than you think!». I answered back: «Well, since the Federation keeps the prize-money, why not the watch?», and he smiled again: «Don’t worry about her, she’s very rich in China!».
Actually, as he explained earlier in the week, the Chinese Tennis Association – who is responsible for their players’ formative years and pays for their coaching, equipment and traveling expenses – gets the check but then distributes a percentage of the prize-money. Then, they give away bonuses based on merit and rankings: when someone reaches the top 50, top 30, top 20 and top 10. Shuai Peng rebelled against it months ago (just like Natasha Zvereva rebelled in the late 80ies against the same situation before the collapse of the Soviet Union), but she’s back in the team; she withdrew from the Estoril Open, though – and I just didn’t remember to ask Jiang Hong Wei why.
Another interesting fact was that both Jie Zheng and Na Li had their own different coaches with them here in Portugal: Zheng was with Chen Li, who had a sunscreen mascara all over her face every time I saw her; Na Li actually has a swedish coach, Rikard Allgurin, in whom the Federation trusts enough to have him collect everybody’s prize-money, even though locker room reports say foreign coaches in China are paid very low wages. Since they were in a hurry to get to the airport (and by then the injured Na Li was feeling well enough to carry her bags to the transportation center!), I wasn’t able to talk a little bit more with them…
I’m not sure there’ll ever be a chinese number one, but I can see a lot of chinese players in the top 40, even in the top 30 – they’ll be the new wave in women’s tennis, replacing Russia. Chinese players are fast, resilient and their levels of concentration are pretty high; they are intense on court and motivated. Plus, the Olympic Games in their home country are a big deal; the medals distributed in the Olympic tennis event from 1988 on were the reason why the Soviet Union started investing in what was considered to be a capitalist sport in the beginning of the 80ies and since Beijing won the right to organize the Games in 2008, China started to pour big bucks in tennis as well and the sport is more and more popular over there – with the help of such big events as the combined Beijing Open and the exclusive Masters Cup in Shanghai.
Michael Chang had a lot to do with the opening of communist China towards tennis and those ATP events held in Beijing and Hong Kong in the 90ies. And gone are the days where a chinese player was considered to be an aberration: I still remember all the political fuss when serve and volleyer Hu Na defected to the US in the 80ies, though tenniswise she never made big headlines nor did better than 58 in the rankings. After her, Li Fang, Yi Jing-Qian and Chen Li (now Zheng’s coach) could manage a win or two here and there, but the new generation has been beating all those records: with a different mindset and institutional support, expect them to dominate the top 50 in four years time.
Why not? Some critics say they’re small; I say they’re fast and focused, plus they have a huge base where they can pick great athletes from. If you consider China’s incredible economic development, the cultural changes, the potential number of players and the impressive ‘production lines’ they display in every single area (including sports), there’s no doubt: with millions exchanging table tennis and badminton for tennis, the future of the sport has to be yellow – just like gold.
PS I: Wondering about men’s tennis in China? Well, Jiang Hong Wei says there are some juniors with potential; I think, just like in Japan, it’ll be the women carrying China’s flag at the top of the game. But they could try to convince NBA’s Yao Ming to do a Karlovic now and then...
PS II: I prefer writing Na Li and Jie Zheng – that is, putting the family name after the individual name. When they talk about each other, they say Li Na and Zheng Jie, but they told me either way is correct.
Miguel Seabra